Milicent gave her a faint smile. “Do you believe so?”
“I know it. You are very capable.”
With a brisk rub of her cheeks, Milicent nodded. “I shall do my best.”
The young lady set off down the hall, but Judith cast a glance out the window at the clear sky and called out to her. “And could you organize a picnic basket for the family? I think the weather is quite fine for an outing.”
Milicent paused and turned to Judith with a frown. “Papa will not join us.”
Steeling herself with a fortifying breath, Judith gave her a reassuring smile. “I am going to press him into duty if I have to, but we shall all go out and enjoy the sunshine.”
The young lady nodded, but her gaze lowered, her fingers twisting in front of her, fiddling with the edges of her mourning gown. Her shoulders dropped, and Judith moved to stand before the young lady, nudging her chin upwards.
“There is no shame in enjoying a fine day,” she said.
“But for us to picnic while Mama…” Milicent’s voice broke, and Judith took her into her arms once more.
“I knew your mama better than most,” she whispered. “And I can promise you she would not wish for you all to sit about, denying yourself little joys. Your mama adored picnics, and she would want you all to take advantage of the fine weather today.”
Milicent gave a halting chuckle that was dampened by her remnant tears. “She always said one should never waste a beautiful day.”
Straightening, Judith gave the young lady a warm smile. “That she did, and I think we ought to honor that philosophy.”
Wiping at her cheeks, Milicent smiled and nodded, turning away to see to her task. Judith watched as the young lady walked down the hall, head held high, and she prayed for Milicent and her sisters. A young man needed his mother like any other child, but a young lady relied so greatly on her mother to help her navigate the waters of courtship—a journey Milicent was soon to make.
But Judith shook herself free of such thoughts and went in search of Martin. Like every day since she’d arrived, the journey from the nursery to the study was fraught with distractions. A maid appeared, seeking guidance about some household matter, then a disruption in the nursery drew her back there to set things to rights once more, then a stack of post stole away more of her attention. Judith had been honest in saying the housekeeper knew her business well, but there were so many issues that needed overseeing, and when she finally had time enough to realize what her original course of action had been, Judith had worked away most of the morning.
Pausing in a quiet alcove, she stretched her back and rotated her ankles, though it did little to relieve the ache in her feet or the exhaustion plaguing her. If she could’ve avoided staying at her aunt and uncle’s, then Judith might be allowed a moment to herself, but Aunt Lavinia would’ve felt slighted. And so, Judith was forced to spend her days at Helmsford Place and allow her aunt to monopolize her evenings, leaving Judith with only a few moments of solitude and quiet after collapsing into bed and before sleep claimed her.
And now, she was gathering wool.
Shaking herself free of those thoughts, Judith made her way to Martin’s study, though with a detour through the kitchens. She nudged the study door open with her knee and hip, balancing the tea tray as she slid into the room. The curtains were drawn tight, and Judith struggled to navigate around the furniture in the darkened room. Sitting it on the desk, she squeezed past Martin and threw open the curtains with a sharp tug, making him flinch at the sudden light.
“Sir, you are coming on an outing with the children,” she said.
Martin blinked a few times before turning his attention to her, and Judith’s breath caught. Good gracious, he was still far too handsome for her good. Perhaps all the more for the fact that his jaw had gained a touch of stubble. Judith had long since abandoned any romantic notions for the fellow, but she appreciated a fine sight as well as any woman.
“I do not feel up to it, Judith,” he murmured.
“Nonsense, Mr. Hardwicke.”
He huffed and shook his head. “How many times must I insist you call me Martin? I am not your master, so there is no need to ‘sir’ me.”
Judith gave him an arched brow. “And still, it is not entirely seemly for me to be calling a gentleman by his given name.”
“You are a dear friend and family by marriage. And you are here doing me a great favor, so you have a right to use familiarities.”
Judith arranged the tea tray on the desk and prepared a cup of tea. “Then, Martin, as your friend and cousin by marriage, I am insisting you accompany your children on a picnic this afternoon.”
He took the drink, though he set it to one side. “I cannot today.”
With a pointed look at him and then the tea, Judith held his gaze for a long time until the fellow sipped it.
“Your social calendar is so very full?”
Martin frowned at his cup and slanted her look. “I do not recall you being such a tease, Judith.”
Luckily, her cheeks were already a deep pink from her efforts around the house, so there was no hint of the embarrassment that flashed through her. Judith knew full well he was correct and precisely why her tongue was taking so many liberties of late. But now was not the time to think of Mr. Byrnes, even if he had the habit of popping into her thoughts at odd and inconvenient times.
