“Did she do the portraits of the children?”
Margaret had been watching the terrain as they climbed, but at his guess, she glanced at him in surprise. “She did.”
“There are two children as the subjects of most of them but there is a third child in the background, almost like a shadow.”
Not many noticed the details of her mother’s artwork. The Countess of Danbury had been very popular in thetonand most of her acquaintances had merely gushed at how prettily she’d captured her children's’ likenesses.
“Hugh and me,” she said. “And our brother. I was born a twin. The other child lived only a week. He is the third child in the paintings. He is always painted to be the same age as she paints me. If you look closely, he wears angel wings.” She swallowed hard. The portraits never failed to move her. “His name was Andrew.”
Sebastian continued walking in silence.
“You have one brother? Do you have any sisters?” She would turn their discussion away from her. She had become far too maudlin as of late.
“I have one brother. His name is Andrew, as well.” He smiled sadly in her direction, but it did not make Margaret feel sad at all.
“I have always loved the name.” She smiled over at him. “Do you pester him, as any older brother worth his weight does but also brag about him when he is not present?”
“How do you know me so well, Maggie?” He laughed. She liked that he would call her Maggie. She ought to feel old when she was with him but she hadn’t felt their difference in age on the beach the day before, nor did she feel it today.
“Tell me about this young man who must suffer to have you for an older brother,” she ordered as they hiked up the dirt that had turned to half sand and rocks by now. The picnic spot was the highest point below the house. It also overlooked the steepest cliff.
“Although dashing in his own right, Andrew isn’t nearly as handsome as his older brother.” His eyes twinkled at her, and she could not help but smile at his cocksure words.
“But who is?” she agreed.
“Indeed.”
“You are as humble as you are good looking,” She smiled at her joke.
At first, he laughed, until he realized she’d insulted him. “And you are as witty as you are old.”
“Not good of you at all, My—Sebastian.” But they both laughed.
He adjusted the canvas that he carried under one arm. “Andrew, I believe, however, is smarter than me. He recently finished school, top of his class, and has shown a keen interest in the management of my father’s estate. He spends most of his time there. He will be handed ownership of his own estate that is nearly as large when he reaches five and twenty.”
“Tell me about your father’s estate—the one that will one day belong to you.”
“Fey Abbey. It is similar to Land’s End in that it is perched near the sea. It is not as large, but it runs along the coast, in northeast Essex.”
“You areveryfar from home, then,” she observed. “Ah, and speaking of the sea.” They emerged from behind the uplift to a cleared area and Margaret was pleased to see a blanket spread on the ground and a small table set up beside it. The basket would be filled with culinary delights.
But Sebastian was not looking at any of that. He’d lowered the supplies onto the ground and strolled farther to gaze at the phenomenal view. Margaret followed and stood beside him quietly. She’d always enjoyed standing at the edge, feeling the wind rush up the face of the rocks carrying with it the scent of the ocean.
Neither of them spoke. Words were not really necessary when one’s senses were so completely overcome by such a spectacular visual.
“Thank you for bringing me with you today.” He finally broke the silence between them.
Again, the silence had been comfortable.
“Between Hugh and I, I was always considered the more reckless one—when we were younger.” She had forgotten.
Standing here now, she remembered how she’d edged herself to the steep drop off and how Hugh would beg her to back up. She had not been afraid, and it had been unkind of her.
She had not been reckless in much of anything throughout her marriage or since then.
She clenched her jaw because she’d suffered more losses during that period despite exercising so much caution.
She moved her toes closer to the edge and gazed down to where white frothy waves crashed violently into the jagged rocks. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that she felt a cool mist.
