She took the parasol from her mother and gave her a tight smile. “Thank you.” She turned to Baron Sylvestor. “My maid is over there with the others. Give me a moment, and I’ll fetch her.”
He nodded. “Take all the time you need.”
She headed toward the cluster of maids. One of them nudged Betsy, who looked over at Sophie, then got up from where she was sitting on a blanket on the grass and walked to meet her.
“We are going on a stroll to the pond with Baron Sylvestor,” Sophie said.
Betsy winced. “It’s awfully hot.”
Sophie held up the parasol. “Apparently, that’s what this is for. Will you join me under it?”
At least that would both protect Betsy and keep things from getting too intimate with the baron.
“If that’s your wish.”
Together, they rejoined Baron Sylvestor. Sophie looked around for Nicholas and found him watching her, the corners of his mouth turned down. She met his eyes and tried to silently convey that she was doing this because she had no choice. She wasn’t sure whether he received the unspoken message, but he tilted his head in acknowledgement.
Baron Sylvestor led Sophie through the gardens, past the manor, and toward the pond. Sophie kept Betsy under the parasol with her so that when they had to pass through a gap in the hedgerows, the baron was forced to go first, leaving space between them.
They started across a field along the path hugging its edge. It must have been somewhere around here that Sophie and Nicholas had ridden their horses previously, but her spatial awareness had never been good, and she couldn’t be certain if they were in the same place or just somewhere similar.
“It’s all very green,” she said as she gazed at the horizon. Everything around them was either trees or grass, so she felt justified in that statement.
“I love it,” Baron Sylvestor said. “Just wait. I know you’re aware of how beautiful the pond is to look at, but going out on it will be quite an experience.”
As they passed from one field into the next, the trail deviated from the edge of the land to the center. Unfortunately, that meant less shade from surrounding trees.
“It isn’t too much further,” he assured her
Sophie scowled. She remembered exactly how far it was, and while she liked the outdoors, there were appropriate times and places for long walks such as this, and the height of the afternoon on the hottest day of the year certainly wasn’t the most appropriate choice.
He must have caught a glimpse of her expression because he laughed. “It’s not that bad. I promise, it will be worth it.”
“I certainly hope so.” The words sounded teasing, but she meant them.
Finally, the pond appeared up ahead.
The massive willow tree towered over the seat, immersing it in shadow, but the rest of the pond shimmered in the sunlight. The sun must have risen higher since he’d first arranged for a boat to be brought out, because there wasn’t much shade at the edge of the water at all.
Sophie was glad to see that the boat was relatively new, so she didn’t have to worry about leaks or about dirt getting on her dress. As they reached the shore, she motioned to the seat beneath the tree.
“Betsy, you may as well wait there. We’ll be within view the whole time.”
Betsy glanced longingly at the seat and then back at Sophie. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be remiss in my duty.”
“Quite sure.” There was no sense in both of them cooking beneath the sun for no reason.
“Very well, my lady.”
Sophie kept the parasol, since Betsy wouldn’t need it, and Baron Sylvestor quickly claimed her free arm. He walked her down to the water’s edge, where he was forced to release her so that he could tug the moored boat closer to the dry stones.
Sweat dripped down the backs of her legs, and she was tempted to hike her skirt up and wade into the pond. If it had been Nicholas with her rather than the baron, she might have done so.
The baron—and really, oughtn’t she know his first name by this point?—unmoored the boat and held onto the side of it with one hand while extending the other to her. She took it and climbed as gracefully as she could into the rowboat.
There was a small wooden seat at each end, so she sat on one, and he gave the boat a push before jumping in and sitting on the other. He used one of the oars to propel them into deeper water and started rowing.
His shoulders and arms strained against his shirt with each movement, and Sophie felt for him when she noticed the fabric sticking. She was far too hot even without exerting herself, so she couldn’t imagine that working up a sweat like he was would be very pleasant.
