“Yes,” he nodded, “We do as we can with farming and raising chickens for food, but it is still a task to house, clothe, and educate them. Every wet season, we hope no one gets ill because our homemade remedies do not work all the time.”
Ariadne did not dare tell him her suspicions about why and how the money had gone missing. That was between her, Cedric, and his steward. “I have gone over the books, and I realized that this year, eighteen pounds are missing from your donations.”
From his tight smile, she knew he knew it too; he probably hadn’t said anything, as it felt like questioning authority.
She handed over four ten -pound notes, and he recoiled as if struck. “Your Grace, this is entirely too much. I?—”
“It’s my pleasure,” she stopped him. “The additional three are from me personally, and I would like it if you used them to give the children new suits for this upcoming Christmas.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Your Grace. Your generosity is very much appreciated. Would you like to meet the children?”
Her heart leaped. “I’d love to.”
“So,” Isolde linked Ariadne’s arm with hers as they meandered through Hyde Park.
It was the day after her visit to the orphanage and the second day of Cedric’s visit to Manchester, and when Isolde had arrived earlier that morning, she had questioned her sister’s sudden arrival, but did not do so too much.
“How does married life treat you?” Isolde asked.
“Married life is… an adjustment,” she replied honestly. “Cedric works a lot, and I almost never see him some days.”
“From what some of my friends have told me, that’s not that odd,” Isolde shrugged her slim shoulders clad in white muslin. “From what I understand, most married couples of the ton barely spend two minutes together a day.”
“That is not how Mama and Papa did it,” Ariadne replied.
They crossed the long, wide green area near Speaker’s Corner and headed towards Rotten Row, the infamous racing course. The Serpentine River was just in the distance.
“I don’t think you should expect the marriage Mother and Father had to be like yours, especially with how your marriage started,” Isolde said as she gazed out to a trio of lords across the way. “But you could try.”
There was a host of people riding up and down the Row in their perfect habits on their beautiful horses. It was a lovely day. The sun was out. The green leaves upon the towering trees shimmered a beautiful, effervescent green.
One day,she promised herselfone day, I’ll be just as good as them.
“At least, mother is not rushing to marry us off as quickly as she would a few months ago,” Isolde lifted a gloved hand to shield her face. “Mayhap I won’t have that trouble on my hands… ever.”
“Trouble?” Ariadne teased. “You think marriage is trouble?”
“I do not… relish the feeling of being under guard all the time,” Isolde said warily. “I want my autonomy.”
“You are so different from me,” Ariadne laughed, “I wanted to marry, but marry someone I love. You don’t want to marry at all.”
Isolde blushed, “I wouldn’t know the first thing about homemaking.”
“That’s fair,” Ariadne said. “You were allowed to run amok while mother focused on Celestine and had to hunt Marigold out of the library to eat.”
She watched Isolde stare at a magnificent onyx stallion and the man leaping off of him. She shook her head softly, knowing her sister was picoting herself atop that horse, racing pell-mell across the meadows near their country home.
The lord spied on Isolde’s look and lifted his hat to show a head of burnished copper hair before he winked an impish green eye at her.
“We should go back,” Isolde spun on her heel. Her face was red like a tomato.
Laughing, Ariadne followed her sister back to the waiting carriage. The footman helped her into the open-air carriage, and she fixed her skirts.
“Do you want to get an ice at Gunter’s?” Ariadne asked. “It would be a shame for you to go back home and not try something new.”
“I’d like that,” Isolde replied. “Thank you.”
“Someone is staring at you,” Ariadne smiled.
