“Even easier because there shall be more room in the carriage as you will not be accompanying me.”
She shrugged. “As you wish.”
He hated to think she’d done it on purpose. Yet she wasn’t arguing to go with him and plead his case. Instead, she sat upright, looking sunnier than Helios when Mr. Sparks brought in the tea and treats.
“We’ll give it a few minutes to steep. Biscuit?” she offered, holding out the plate.
Leaning forward, he snatched one ungraciously and snapped off the edge with his teeth, not caring how the crumbs hit the carpet.
“What are we doing next?” she asked. “The assembly isn’t for many hours.”
“And now my art won’t be displayed,” he griped. “I am not sure I’m even going to bother attending.”
By her expression, his words made her happiness dim a little, which panged him. However, while munching thoughtfully, she rallied.
“I shall go in any case. Every day, there are new people to meet. The queen will come soon, too, don’t you think?”
Would she really go to the party without him?And probably get into all sorts of trouble!
“I have a pamphlet in my room,” she said. “I picked it up at the circulating library—”
“I know how you like libraries,” he interrupted sourly, thinking of the spectacle they’d created in Lady Sullivan’s private library in London.
Unremorseful, Miss Talbot made a face. “Brighton’s lending library, the one on the southwest side of the Steyne, is a gem especially with the dear cost of a novel. But this pamphlet is mine to keep. It tells you all the places of interest hereabouts. There is plenty to do if one has a companion, things I couldn’t really do by myself.”
She poured them both a cup of tea, and James sat opposite her, wondering how they’d so quickly got into this perfect tableau of domesticity.
“Such as?” he asked, unable to entirely banish the testy tone from his voice.
“There’s the spectacle of a windmill in Preston that used to be here.”
He set his cup down. “What do you mean byused to be here? Windmills don’t just get up and walk away.”
“It took eighty-six oxen to drag it two miles according to the guide book,” she told him.
He shrugged. “If the oxen dragged it away, then it mustn’t be worth seeing.”
She laughed softly, and he liked the sound. It cheered him more than anything else had done in the past few hours.
“There is also a tea-room in Preston,” she persisted.
He gestured at the pot and platter between them. “Unnecessary. What else is there to do?” he asked, wanting to humor her.
“There are some Roman ruins somewhere close by. I’ll have to check the book.”
James had been to Rome and didn’t need to traipse around the coast of England to see their one-time conqueror’s ruins on his home soil.
“I would rather go to Italy,” he said.
“There’s the remains of a Norman castle overlooking the River Adur. It was called Brambley or Bramber, something like that. Shall I go get the guide book?”
“No. We can overlook the entire ocean from upstairs. Why traipse over to a Norman castle. They call them castles when there’s nothing to see but a pile of old stones.”
“Are you always so amusing?” she asked.
It took him a second to catch her smile.
“No, I’m usually gloomy, can’t you tell?”
