“One, two, three,” the boys counted in unison.
“Very good! We can note that this is a paperbark maple, which is a deciduous, trifoliate tree,” she said confidently. “Let’s look at the sky. Tell me now. What do you see?”
“Clouds,” Philip said proudly, leaning back onto the blanket and looking up.
“Birds,” Arthur said, lying down next to his brother.
“Very good, but can we be more specific? What descriptors can we use?” Miss Lewis asked, lying down next to them.
They were a portrait of scientific comfort. Ambrose, however, looked like a man sitting on a bed of nails. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored frock coat, his tall frame awkwardly perched on the edge of the blanket. He held a sandwich as if it were a legal document he didn’t quite trust, and he took a small bite. A small leaf floated down on top of the trio.
“This is aQuercus Robur, Lord Philip,” Miss Lewis said, pointing to the leaf as she grabbed it and passed it to him. “Or an English Oak, as it is more commonly known. Do you see the rounded lobes?”
“It looks like a hand,” Philip whispered, fascinated as he twirled it. “Don’t you think so?”
“Exactly so! A Titan’s hand.” She looked up, leaning on an elbow, her green eyes catching the light as she glanced at Ambrose. “Wouldn’t you agree, Your Grace?”
Ambrose cleared his throat, shifting his weight onto his other leg, trying to be casual in such an unusual setting for him. “It is… a very sturdy specimen. Perhaps it could be used for paper making.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Everything is business with you, Uncle. Miss Lewis says it’s for magic.”
“Magic, you say?”
“She told us so the other day!”
“I said thedruidsthought it was for magic, Lord Arthur,” she corrected with a soft laugh. “Although, who am I to question the druids?”
The sound of her laughter, clear and genuine, seemed to almost vibrate through Ambrose. He felt a slight grin tug at his lips as he watched her, his gaze lingering on the way her curls were beginning to escape her pins. He felt a strange, uncomfortable warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sun.
“I’m going to find a magic leaf!” Arthur suddenly shouted, jumping to his feet. “I’ll beat you to it!”
“Me too!” Philip cried, scrambling after him. “We’ll both get one, Arthur!”
The boys bolted toward the sloping bank of the Serpentine lake, their laughter echoing across the water. Miss Lewis’ smilevanished, replaced by an expression of maternal alarm as they darted about. She brought her hands to her face.
“Lord Arthur! Lord Philip! Not so close to the edge!” she called out. She scrambled up from the blanket; her skirts bunched in her hands. “Stay away from the reeds! It is slippery!”
The boys didn’t stop. In their excitement, they began a game of tag, running dangerously close to the slick, muddy lip where the grass met the water. She did not wait for him to get up. She took off at a run without Ambrose, her boots flying over the turf.
“Wait! Boys, stop!”
She reached the bank just as Arthur made a sharp turn. Her foot hit a patch of moss-covered stone, slick as ice. For a heartbeat, she was suspended in the air, her arms windmilling fruitlessly.
With a sharp gasp and a spectacularsplash, Ambrose saw her vanish into the cold, dark water of the lake.
“MISS LEWIS!” the boys screamed in unison.
Ambrose was already moving. He didn’t stop to remove his coat or boots. He sprinted the remaining distance and launched himself into the water with a powerful dive.
The cold was a shock, but he saw the flash of her white chemisette beneath the surface that pulled him like a moth to a flame. He lunged, his large hand catching her tightly around thewaist. He hauled her upward, her head breaking the surface as she gasped for air, clutching at his shoulders for balance.
“I have you,” he growled, his voice thick with a sudden, primal protectiveness. “I have you, Imogen,” he whispered, using her familiar name aloud for the first time, pulled by the gravity of the situation.
He kicked toward the bank forcefully, his muscles straining against the weight of their heavy, sodden clothes. Ambrose hoisted her up onto the grassy verge before hauling himself out, water cascading off him in thick sheets.
The twins were trembling, their faces pale. Philip sobbed openly.
“Is she dead? Did I kill her?” He asked, rubbing his eyes frantically.
