“I absolutely could not,” Gwen puts in, a little overloud. “Clumsy fingers, me.”
“You said you do needlepoint very well,” Montson says, still somehow confused.
“Not as well as a modiste would,” Beth explains.
Gwen fights the urge to roll her eyes as Beth gives a more detailed explanation of what goes into a season gown for Montson.All the while, her thumb continues to draw hypnotic patterns against Gwen’s pulse. She wonders if Beth can feel the way her heartbeat is jumping through her gloves.
Lady Demeroven and Father exit the patisserie, balancing baskets of biscuits with a pot of tea and cups, followed by an employee who walks a truly mammoth platter of goodies over to their table. Gwen keeps an eye on Father and Lady Demeroven as they head to their table, but it is difficult with Beth’s fingers between hers and the absurd array of baked goods placed down before them.
They’ve pulled out all the stops here—biscuits, cakes, canapés, and sandwiches, with a full tea set. She hopes Father at least persuaded Lady Demeroven he could pay for this. Gwen knows that Beth’s success with Montson is important, but this is... excessive.
“Excellent!” Albie says, grinning eagerly with Montson.
Beth smiles and then looks over at Lady Demeroven, her eyes lighting up. Gwen follows her gaze, watching as Lady Demeroven laughs at something Father says while they bicker over the biscuits, and squeezes Beth’s hand.
“Going surprisingly well, isn’t it?” Beth mutters.
“Yeah,” Gwen agrees, leaning in to whisper in her ear. The scent of her lavender perfume pervades Gwen’s senses, sweet and lovely. It’s a moment before she can find her words. “Maybe group outings are the way to go?”
“We’ll have to plan some more surprise encounters, I think,” Beth whispers back, turning her cheek to catch Gwen’s eye. Gwen swallows hard and nods, her breath catching as their eyes meet, close and secret. Between the perfume and the sun andBeth, she’s a little bit dizzy.
Beth’s fingers curl against Gwen’s and Gwen feels herself shiver in anticipation. The promise of more intrigue and scheming and time simply spent with Beth flutters through Gwen’s chest. She feels her cheeks pinking with pleasure and is about to make another suggestion when Lord Montson passes Beth a plate piled high with sugar and crème and biscuits.
“What are you two whispering about?” he asks.
“Nothing,” Gwen says quickly, leaning back into her seat with regret.
“I was telling Lady Gwen about my tree house,” Beth says instead, her hand slowly slipping from Gwen’s.
Gwen feels the loss of her touch like a cold draft, all that warmth and comfort and fun sliding away. Beth uses her newly freed fingers to pluck the pistachio macarons from her plate to slide onto Gwen’s, as if in consolation.
“Tree house?” Albie asks.
“Miss Demeroven wants to build a forest tree house,” Montson explains.
“I’ve wanted one since I was small,” Beth admits.
“Oh, there’s a marvelous spot on my father’s estate. We could put yours next to mine,” Gwen says eagerly, a little pride surging through her as Beth turns back to her, eyes alight.
“You have one?” Beth asks.
“Father and I helped the staff build it one fall,” Gwen says, glancing over toward Father and Lady Demeroven, who arelaughing. “Maybe you can come see it later in the summer. We could bring books and spend the whole day up in the tree.”
“I’d like that,” Beth says, beaming at her.
Gwen feels an answering grin spread across her face as shefrees two profiteroles from the croquembouche to place onto Beth’s plate—her favorites.
“If her grove is too perfect, I’ll happily supply your wood,” Montson says.
Gwen glances his way and finds him watching Beth’s excited nod fondly. Gwen bites back a quick retort that she and Father have more than enough wood. If it means Beth’s tree house will be on her land, she can allow Montson the expense.
“I didn’t know you and Lord Havenfort built that yourselves,” Albie says, looking rather impressed.
“We had some help,” Gwen admits. “But Father insisted we do as much as we could. Nearly broke all of our fingers and I fell out of a tree, but we managed. It was fun.”
“Lord Havenfort’s a good man,” Albie says with a smile.
“The best,” Gwen agrees.
