“He’s north of London now, with his own home and wife and I suppose children soon,” MissPine says, her voice softer, more contemplative. “It must be nice to have Mr.Tisend home for the season.”
Rosalie glances ahead at Christopher. “It is.”
MissPine smiles and they walk toward the end of the tree line that will open onto the pond. Shadows dance across her face. Rosalie has to look away.
“Now, tell me, did you really used to put on a pair of hisbreeches and run through the woods every day until you were fifteen?”
Rosalie splutters, catching herself on a narrow yew tree before she falls over in surprise. “What?” she nearly shrieks.
“So it’s true,” MissPine says, grinning at her.
“I will kill that boy,” Rosalie says, her voice rough. Howdarehe? She glares at Christopher where he and Mr.Dean are now standing at the edge of the pond.
“Oh, I used to do the same with Richard. You’re hardly special,” MissPine says.
Rosalie looks up at MissPine, who’s smiling a bit mischievously. “And what excessively unladylike activities did your brother wheedle you into?”
“Sorry, Mr.Tisend already told me that you were nearly always the instigator.”
Rosalie shakes her head. “What did you get your brother into, then?”
“There may or may not have been days where we nearly got lost in the claypit mines when we went to work with Father and subsequent nights we didn’t get dinner,” MissPine says with a shrug.
“And were you dressed as a good little girl the whole time?” Rosalie pushes.
“Oh, no, I looked like a common mine boy. It was delightful.”
Rosalie can’t help but smile, imagining a smaller MissPine dressed in dirty pants and a shirt, mucking about in the mine with her brother, causing all kinds of trouble. She wants to ask MissPine about her childhood. Wants to talk more aboutEmma. Wants her opinion onPride and Prejudice. Wants to know what she thinks of the assertion that the author is a woman.
But the rest of their group are quickly catching up, stompingthrough the underbrush to emerge on the shore of the pond in a rowdy, lightly sweaty crowd. Henrietta and Mr. Rile look rather cozy, while Mr. Sholle is leaning around Amalie to get a glimpse at Miss Pine.
Aunt Genevieve finally steps out of the woods behind all of them, giving Rosalie a look. She really ought to be commanding her suitor’s attention. It’s why they’re here.
Rosalie’s just going to ignore how every single part of her body screams in protest as she steps away from MissPine. She beckons everyone forward until they’re all standing in a semicircle by the edge of the pond. Mr.Dean isstilltalking about his world tour.
“I thought perhaps the gentlemen could teach us to skip rocks. We’re the only ones here and we won’t be bothering anyone,” Rosalie suggests.
“A marvelous idea,” Aunt Genevieve says, a little overloud, causing everyone to giggle.
“Mr.Rile, you’ll show MissRaught. Mr.Sholle, MissPine. Mr.Dean with me, of course,” Rosalie says, ignoring the pleasure she gets in the narrowing of MissPine’s eyes. “And Christopher, perhaps you could show MissLinet, as Mr.Fortes was busy this morning.”
Christopher grins at her and leaves Mr.Dean to sidle up to Amalie. Mr.Rile and Henrietta head right for the edge of the water, bending down to find the perfect smooth rocks. Mr.Sholle bounds over to MissPine, who gives him what seems like a genuine smile and takes his arm to walk down a ways to find their own rocks.
Rosalie watches them go before tearing her eyes away to look across the lovely small pond. To the right sits the Palladian Bridge, a beautiful Bath stone–covered walkway with arched,open walls that casts part of the pond in shadow even at the height of midday. The grounds across the pond are manicured and verdant, sloping gently up to tall, just-budding trees. It’s a lovely tableau.
“Good show!” Mr.Rile’s loud encouragement to Henrietta breaks the silence and Rosalie can’t help but laugh.
“Shall we?” Mr.Dean asks.
“Please,” Rosalie says, taking his arm and letting him lead her down the row to the other side of Christopher and Amalie, who are bickering over the best stone to choose.
Amalie’s hem is muddy and Christopher’s standing in the water, but they look so happy. Rosalie watches in amusement as they elbow each other for the best spot to throw. Meanwhile, down the line, Mr.Rile and Mr.Sholle are using this opportunity to wrap their arms around Henrietta and MissPine.
Henrietta’s blushing grin is visible even at a distance. She and Mr.Rile make a good pair, his broad chest at her back, both of them bright-cheeked. MissPine looks distinctly less comfortable with Mr.Sholle, though Rosalie thinks she’d step away if she felt truly ill at ease.
Still, it niggles at Rosalie’s brain—maybe it’s a step too far to encourage Mr.Sholle. Maybe she doesn’t like the idea that MissPine might not hate having him wrapped around her.
A massive plop pulls Rosalie from her spiraling thoughts and she looks down the line to find Henrietta pouting.
