“There is a blanket to our left in the shade,” Sir Montague said. “Come, ladies, join me and we shall sit together.”
“What an excellent idea,” Tabitha tittered. “You think of all the best ideas, Sir Montague.”
Sir Montague, a lady on both arms, led them slowly to the blanket and sat them down. “Allow me to procure you both something to drink,” he said. “It really is extremely hot.”
Theo searched for Nathanial in the crowd, and was just in time to see Mrs Stanton, copper curls bouncing, approaching him with a smile on her face. The lump in Theo’s throat grew, and her mouth dried.
“Don’t you think Sir Montague favours me?” Tabitha asked in a whisper as soon as he had left. “He was so assiduous in showing us to the shade, and you know, I am inclined to freckle if I am in the sun too long.”
Theo blinked, surprised that Tabitha could have deceived herself so utterly. “Oh,” she managed.
“Have you noticed? I have my maid bathe my face in lemon juice every night, and I’m sure that’s made a difference in fading them.” Tabitha motioned to her complexion, which was robust, with no freckle in sight. Theo wondered if the contrast was intentional, givenshehad a smattering of freckles across her nose. “Can you believe two months ago we had snow?” Tabitha asked with a little laugh. “I declare . . .”
Theo tuned out Tabitha and her comments about the weather and looked again in search of Nathanial and Mrs Stanton. It would be like sipping poison, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. Was Mrs Stanton placing another possessive hand on his arm? Did he accept affection from her when he wanted nothing to do with Theo?
But Mrs Stanton was not with Nathanial after all. She was standing with Sir Montague by the refreshments, their body language taut and defensive. After a few seconds, Mrs Stanton broke away, her head held high, and Sir Montague walked back towards them, two glasses in his hands.
“Wine for Lady Tabitha,” he said, handing her a glass partially filled with red liquid that made Theo’s stomach lurch to see it. “I thought you may enjoy it.”
Lady Tabitha looked as though she had been handed the moon itself. “Oh, you aresoconsiderate,”she twittered.
“And lemonade for the Duchess.” Sir Montague’s dark eyes lingered on Theo’s a fraction too long. “You looked as though you might favour something a little lighter and more refreshing.”
Theo smiled and took a sip. The bitter sourness of the lemonade almost overpowered her, and she wished they had thought to add some more sugar.
“The Duchess is feeling the heat,” Tabitha said suddenly. “Perhaps it would be sensible to leave her for a spell until she’s feeling better. Here, Duchess, have my fan.”
“You are too kind,” Theo said dryly.
“If we take a turn along the shore, I’m sure by the time we’ve returned, the Duchess will be feeling quite the thing.” Tabitha sat up straighter, clearly delighted by the plan that had resulted in her claiming Sir Montague’s time for herself. “What say you, Sir Montague?”
“An excellent plan,” he said smoothly. “We shall be back for you soon, Duchess.”
“Enjoy your walk,” Theo said, not finding she minded. Their absence would give her ample time to think about Nathanial and the way he was steadfastly ignoring her. Perhaps he really had given up caring after all.
Sir Montague’s dark gaze was on her again, but after a moment he offered his arm to Tabitha and they left. Theo turned her attention to the party around her. There were boats pulled up on the shoreline, a few commandeered by small groups. Laughter hung on the air, as bright and warm as the sunlight.
It was a beautiful picture, and one Theo should have enjoyed. She might have enjoyed it had she been with Nathanial. Had Nathanialwantedto be withher.
She contemplated her lemonade, but it reallyhadbeen too sour, and the thought of consuming more made her stomach turn. She poured it in the grass. Perhaps they would make a fresh batch with the appropriate amount of sugar soon.
To her surprise, she had not been sitting alone more than five minutes before Sir Montague sauntered back to take his place beside her, sprawling across the blanket as though he had been born there. “I’m surprised I haven’t already been superseded,” he said. “Are your hordes of admirers absent today?”
“I suspect I’m less admired than you think.”
“A beautiful duchess who has Society at her feet?” He tilted his head to look at her, a calculating expression in his eyes. “Or perhaps they don’t dare approach you when you look so forbidding.”
Theo had to laugh. “Forbidding? Me? You must be mistaken.”
“I’m never mistaken, little mouse, and you are indeed forbidding. If I did not know you so well, if we were not such old friends, I would never have dared approach you.”
“Liar,” she said, prompting a bark of laughter from him. His edged charm and mocking laughter were so far removed from Nathanial’s curls and grey eyes, but although Sir Montague looked the part of the hero, she was no longer sure he could sweep her off her feet.
How could he, when her every first thought went to another man?
“I am very glad I know you, Duchess,” he said.
A wave of dizziness came over her, and she pushed it aside, forcing a smile for his benefit. “You are an incorrigible flirt.”
