“May I introduce my daughters, Celeste and Colette,” the duchess said warmly.
Ella smiled as the girls bounced to their feet and hurried over.
“Hello,” the older one said, dropping into a curtsy. “I’m Colette.”
“And I’m Celeste,” her sister added.
“I am Beatrice,” Beatrice said, smiling. “And this is my friend, Ella.”
Ella was grateful Beatrice handled the introductions because her throat felt tight. She couldn’t speak as she took in the sight of the two girls. They looked so much like she had at their age—though their hair was darker, likely inherited from their mother’s beautiful brown locks. Their dresses were finer than anything Ella had ever worn, but their eyes... Their eyes mirrored her own, and it was like looking into a reflection of her younger self.
Her knees felt weak, and she stumbled back slightly, grateful for Dietrich’s steadying hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she managed to choke out when the girls turned to her expectantly.
“I’m so excited for our picnic!” Colette said, bouncing back to the blanket.
Ella’s throat tightened further as a memory flashed through her mind: a similar day, with a similar blanket and a similar basket, but with an entirely different woman.
For the first time, she remembered her mother.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned toward Dietrich, who looked down at her with quiet understanding. He didn’t say anything, but he reached out and squeezed her hand briefly before letting go and stepping toward the blanket, a basket in hand.
When had he exchanged her horse for a picnic basket?
Beatrice urged Dietrich to join them, and the young ladies joined her until he gave in, giving Ella a sideways glance as he sat next to her on the only open place left on the blanket.
“Come join us, Ella,” Beatrice said quietly, sounding rather like a mama duck encouraging her duckling to jump in the water.
Ella took a deep breath and joined her family on the picnic blanket.
She didn’t want to waste another moment with them. She’d already spent far too long without them.
With everyone enjoying themselves, it didn’t take long for them all to become fast friends. Ella could hardly believe these people were her stepmother and sisters. The urge to tell them she might be their sister nearly overwhelmed her, but she stopped herself. Her father should hear it first. She didn’t want him to be the last to know.
Dietrich caught her eye, and she smiled slightly.
He was right. He’d done a good thing. Without him, she never would have found her family, and she couldn’t imagine not knowing them.
Even if he shouldn’t have done it the way he did.
The sunshine was beautiful, but the wind began to pick up, and Ella shivered.
Dietrich noticed immediately. He glanced at the groom standing by the carriage, who hurried over with another blanket.
“Thank you,” Ella said, smiling up at the groom.
“Thank you, John,” Dietrich added.
The groom smiled and retreated to stand by the carriage again.
“I wouldn’t want anyone feeling cold,” Dietrich said as he wrapped the blanket around Ella’s shoulders.
“That would be a pity,” Duchess Vaughn agreed, nibbling delicately on a piece of cheese.
Ella watched the duchess, doing her best to mimic the dainty, mouse-like bites. If this was her family, she had a lot to live up to.
The wind continued to pick up, and while the blanket helped, Ella’s hair whipped against her face. She glanced at Beatrice and the duchess to see how they managed the inconvenience, but both had their hair neatly pinned back. Something she should have done.
