“Since you did me a favor by driving me from the conservatory during your awful performance, I forgive your rudeness,” Lady Georgiana continued.
Brilliance had wanted to offer an apology first, yet having been already publicly forgiven, it now seemed pointless.
“Thank you,” she said, not feeling the least grateful since Lady Georgiana hadn’t behaved with an ounce of graciousness.Without stopping to consider, Brilliance added, “If only you had done me a similar favor.”
By the look on Lord Hewitt’s face, a mixture of surprise and then obvious mirth, Brilliance knew she had been impudent again. This time, purposefully, too, unable to help herself. She was feeling as green-eyed as Othello where he was concerned.
By Lady Georgiana’s frown, she was still working out the latest insult.
Brilliance was beginning to wish fortified wine had been served instead of lemonade. Even if it hadn’t soothed Lady Georgiana, it might have made it easier to stomach her.
When they had all eaten their fill, Lady Twitchard let her husband draw her to her feet. As everyone rose, Brilliance dreaded an announcement that they were to immediately remount their horses.
“The weather is proving amenable,” their hostess said. “Please take your time wandering around the area. Not a furlong away are more modern ruins of a twelfth-century abbey.”
She pointed in a westerly direction.
“And to the south, if you climb the hill, there’s a lovely view of the valley beyond.”
Brilliance was readjusting her bonnet since the ribbon had come loose under her chin when Lord Hewitt appeared beside her.
“Will you take a stroll with me, my lady?”
Chapter Eight
Looking up into his gray-green eyes, her entire being flooded with happiness.
“Gladly,” Brilliance said. But she couldn’t help peering past him to make sure their walk would not be a threesome. Fortunately, Lady Georgiana was engrossed in a conversation with Lord Fincham. Thus, she followed Lord Hewitt away from the picnic.
They didn’t touch. He didn’t take her arm, yet they walked companionably close, seeming to mutually decide to go to the abbey ruins.
There was much more remaining of the medieval structure than the Roman ones. Brilliance walked along a decrepit nave, ignoring the field mouse that scuttled ahead of her. There was still a section of the altar. And on her left, the wall and roof were partially intact, containing some of the clerestory window framing, although there was no glass left.
“It’s lovely,” she proclaimed.
He smiled. “Lovely in an accidental way, I suppose. Not lovely like a female dressed for a ball.”
“Yes, that’s precisely what I meant.” She thought it a romantic place and tried to imagine the abbey when it was whole, perhaps with light streaming in through stained glass, replete withdevoted nuns and clerics. Maybe they held weddings there and baptized children.
“You look far away in your thoughts,” he said.
She shrugged. “It is easier to picture what happened in the abbey than in a Roman farmer’s temple.”
“I agree, although —” he broke off as others came in behind them. “Shall we move along?” he asked.
Nodding, they left through one of the large gaps in the wall.
“Would you like to see the southern view that my cousin mentioned?” he asked.
“I would.” They began to walk up the gentle incline behind the abbey. Brilliance considered her handsome guide. “I just realized you must have seen all this before. The ruins and the view. Your home is not too far away, is it?”
“My estate is about half an hour by fast horse, and I have visited my cousin’s manor house all my life, so yes, I’ve seen the view from the knoll.” Then he added, “But not with you.”
That made her smile. Lord Hewitt was being kind and friendly. She hoped it lasted. She would try not to do anything that annoyed him. As long as they didn’t stumble across a piano, that shouldn’t be too difficult.
As if reading her thoughts, he asked, “Did you write my name on the list of performers yesterday?”
That might engender his ire, but she had to be honest. “I did.”
