Luckily, Eleanor didn’t have to figure out a single strand of weaving lace. She relaxed then, too, and listened to Grayson tell them where he took Asher and how he taught the boy to canter evenly and levelly.
Mrs. O’Connor brought out the tin of biscuits.
“We should discuss when you want to leave,” Grayson said, “and give Lady Angsley some notice. Lord Angsley leaves tomorrow. Perhaps we should do the same.”
Surprised, as Eleanor thought he would want to stay as long as possible in order to see their treasure hunt through to the end, she glanced at Mrs. O’Connor.
The woman’s face was emotionless as they’d already discussed this very matter. Indeed, Eleanor had talked with Lady Angsley earlier about an extended stay while she worked on something with Grayson’s mother. When her ladyship had pressed the matter, Eleanor had told a small lie about wanting to learn to make lace as a present for her own mother.
Dear God, don’t punish me for lying,she prayed, though she knew in her bones it was a sin.
Lady Angsley, a little nonplussed but agreeable all the same, approved the extended stay at once.
“I would very much like to stay longer,” Eleanor told Grayson. “Your mother and I were just getting started.”
He stared at the pile of lace on the chair. Then he frowned. “I thought you hated needle work.”
Eleanor opened her mouth, then closed it.This was the problem with lying,she thought.One eventually got caught.
“Making lace is not needle work, my boy,” Mrs. O’Connor said with conviction, as if he were a dunce to confuse the two.
“In any case,” Eleanor added, “we can try ourpicnicagain in the morning, perhaps?”
“Very well.” He winked at her, apparently pleased to have another day for their adventure if the weather cooperated. Then he twisted his mouth with displeasure.
“Mum, I think we should get some biscuits from the Angsleys’ new cook. These are inferior to anything they have at the hall.”
“Bring me some next time, then,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “You are a wonderful son.”
*
The next morningwas sunny, and Eleanor rejoiced as she tossed the covers back and hurried to dress. She knew Grayson would be ready and waiting.
“There’s my adventurous girl,” he said as she hurried into the library. “I can’t think many females would be eager to jump up early out of a soft bed for an outdoor adventure.”
Warming down to her toes at his praise, she said, “More than you think, I would warrant.”
In truth, though, she didn’t know any other women who quite enjoyed the natural world as she did, nor who would grow gleeful over climbing a rock.
“I have only encountered those who wouldn’t dare get their dresses torn or dirty,” Grayson confessed, “or their gloves soiled or their hair knotted, for that matter.”
Eleanor knew those women. They were the ones during the Season who never had a hair out of place, not even at a boating event. They were too perfect.
But she was the one standing next to the deliciously handsome Grayson O’Connor!
She beamed at him.
“Do you have our supplies?”
“Yes, nearby,” he said, tucking one of her errant locks behind her ear. She shivered at his touch. “And the picnic?” he asked.
She hadn’t ordered one from the kitchen staff the night before in case it had turned into another day of rain.
“In the twirl of a pig’s tail,” she promised. “By the time you have everything in a wagon outside, I will meet you with a basket of goodies.”
True to her word, Eleanor found Grayson dragging a small cart, with a shovel, a pickaxe, some rope and string, a lantern, and a sack, which she assumed contained the spyglass and compass.
She placed their basket of food in the cart, as well. Then, clapping her hands, she could hardly stop herself from running on ahead.
