Drawing a shaky breath, she firmly placed her feet on theground and reached up to hand herself into the coach once again. She wanted to slap his hands away as he assisted her up. He was a betrothed man. She would not allow herself to…to what? To remember? To feel? To trust?
“Thank you,” she muttered. At least she hadn’t landed in the mud. That would have been too humiliating. Once in the carriage, she found Glenda sitting beside Mary facing forward, leaving the backward-facing bench for Lilly to share with Michael.
“Since we’re eating, I thought Mary should face forward,” Glenda explained. “Remember that last time? She got ill, remember? When she ate those kippers while riding backward?”
Lilly remembered.
Nobody wanted Mary to get sick.
So Lilly slid to the opposite side as Michael climbed in behind her. This most certainly was not what she’d had in mind. She needed to find a topic of conversation to distract herself from his…maleness.
“The sky looks to be clear today. I think we will be lucky and not meet up with any rain.” Oh, that was brilliant, Lilly. Sparkling conversation indeed.
Glenda agreed, and then Mary turned and opened her window to allow some air to flow into the carriage. Everybody else turned to do the same with theirs.
As the carriage pulled onto the road, Mary and Glenda proceeded to distribute the bread, cheese, and fruits from the basket. Eating while riding was a delicate enough task, normally, even more so for Lilly as she attempted to do so without bumping into Michael any more than necessary.
He seemed to have no such qualms.
He touched her as though all was right with the world. As though she were a stranger on the mail coach. He was such a man!
Resigned to his proximity, Lilly gave up and simply delved into the offerings.
It must have been the wine, for once fully sated, she found she’d enjoyed the meal thoroughly. Leaning back, she pondered. “Why does food taste so much better when eaten out of doors?” The breeze flowing through the carriage was cool and fresh.
“Must be the novelty of it.” Michael’s gaze teased. Was he too remembering other picnics they’d shared together? He leaned forward and searched the basket. “What, no lemon tarts?” They had been her favorite.
Lilly cocked her head at him slightly. He’d remembered.
“I haven’t had a lemon tart in ages.” Lord Beauchamp hadn’t allowed the kitchen to keep sweets available. Even after his death, cook had followed his decree.
Lemon tarts.
Such a small detail for him to have recalled.
Feeling at ease, comfortable even, against her better judgement, Lilly leaned back and glanced sideways at Michael. “Do you still visit Edgewater Heights? I imagine you travel often.” She’d remembered him saying his father owned estates throughout most of England.
“It’s currently leased out,” he said flatly. “Business decision. It’s getting dicey, keeping the dukedom profitable. Requires new investments and such. Important to keep up with the times.”
“Oh…” Lilly remembered the home he’d taken such pains to show her.
It had been set in a lush valley, a few miles from the sea. She remembered he’d acquired a gentle mount for her to learn to ride with him. They’d explored his lands leisurely.
There had been old ruins to climb around on, hills they’d rolled down, and a lovely stream which dropped down creating the prettiest waterfall. They had gone swimming under it…and more. “That’s so sad. I imagine the tenants are happy living there. It’s such a lovely home.”
It would have been their home. They would have raised their children and grown old together there.
But no, Michael had become the duke. They would have moved to his estate near Exeter and kept residence at the ducal seat. She would have been a duchess.
Except upon becoming a duke, Michael hadn’t come for her.
It wasn’t meant to be.
Theyweren’t meant to be.
“Do you spend most of your time at Summers Park then?” she asked.
“As much as possible. If I’m not checking on the other properties, though, I am often required to be in London,” Michael answered matter-of-factly.
