Rosanna held back a sigh and continued to be kind—but firm—about the subject. In all honesty, there wasn’t much she could tell them about The Mysterious Mr. Tate even if she wished to discuss the gentleman at length; much of what he’d told her had been a falsehood. And though she was certain the mamas and young ladies were all hoping for any tidbit that might help them secure his good favor, Rosanna didn’t think them knowing that he adored bilberries and reading biographies would make the difference in securing his affection.
And so, she simply held on whilst the torrent around her raged. Holding firm to vagaries, Rosanna fended off most of the inquiries and batted away the invasive ones until the majority grew bored with her prevarication and either drifted away or shifted the conversation to more pleasant subjects.
“You do look lovely today, Miss Leigh,” said Mr. Snowley, his gaze brightening as she met his eyes.
“You are too kind,” she said.
“Truly, a picture.” With a nod away from the growing crowd, he added, “Might I entice you to take a stroll with me?”
Rosanna managed to hide her grimace. Only just. Poor Mr. Snowley was a fine enough fellow, but he would enjoy speaking to Mr. Woodhouse far more, as his conversation revolved around the same subjects. But she was saved from answering when another gentleman interrupted.
“I have secured a place for us on the blankets,” said Mr. Ridlington, giving Mr. Snowley a gimlet eye.
“That is kind of both of you, but I am quite happy where I am,” said Rosanna. Not that either of them seemed to notice as they continued to stare each other down.
“I am certain she would far more enjoy a walk with me,” said Mr. Snowley.
“I assure you she would not,” murmured Rosanna.
Mr. Ridlington lifted his chin. “But I have gathered blankets and pillows, should she need them, which is far more pleasing than a stroll.”
Was she a ghost? Or a phantom? Here but unseen and unheard? Rosanna sighed and left the gentlemen to their squabble, as it had little to do with her. So occupied were they with their masculine swaggering, neither gentleman noticed when she turned away from the pair of them and wandered off with the other ladies.
As much as she adored parties and gatherings, at times it felt as though it was a constant string of conversations without any break. Rosanna didn’t require as much time to herself as Prudence, but even the most social of people needed a moment of peace from time to time. More so when gentlemen kept pestering her to show them some favor—and one certain gentleman seemed to lurk in the back of her thoughts, never leaving her be.
Matters weren’t helped when the gentleman in question arrived at the picnic. Thankfully, Mr. Tate had the good sense not to approach, though it would’ve been difficult, as he was quickly swarmed by all the enthusiastic people wishing to further their acquaintance.
It was impossible to pay attention to what was going on in her immediate circle when her attention tracked his progress around the party.
But then Miss Morton drew into her circle, stealing Rosanna’s gaze. The young lady stood on the edge, her eyes fixed on the males of the group. If one of them managed to notice her, she began batting her eyelashes as though attempting to put out a fire; then there were the awkward smiles that were as far from coquettish as one could manage.
Every time Rosanna spied Miss Morton, her heart broke a little more. The young lady tried so hard, yet she didn't have the inherent beauty or polish to garner attention, which was a shame, for she was a sweet soul. Once her nerves faded, and she gained a bit more experience amongst society, Miss Morton was bound to be quite a favorite.
It was time something was done.
Sifting through the group, Rosanna sidled up next to Miss Morton. “And how are you settling into Greater Edgerton?”
The young lady’s brows rose. “Well enough, I suppose. It is always a trial to be uprooted from the life one knows and be thrust into an entirely new one. Despite having been here for a year now, I feel as though I am still finding my footing.”
“I cannot imagine how difficult that must be. I have lived in the same house my entire life and hardly ever left Greater Edgerton. But I suppose there is something wonderful about starting fresh.”
Miss Morton smiled and nodded, though a hint of pain slipped into her gaze. Rosanna longed to give the poor dear an embrace, but they didn’t know each other well enough for that.
“Have you met Mr. Pugh?” asked Rosanna, and not bothering to wait for the answer (for she knew what it was), she lifted to her tiptoes to see past the people around her and scour the picnic. The gentleman was here somewhere but had slipped from her sight.
Tapping Mr. Gundry (who was the only man in the circle who wouldn’t take her attention as a declaration of love), Rosanna asked, “Do you spy Mr. Pugh?”
Not even pausing in his conversation with Miss Tomlinson, he glanced up and gestured towards a blanket. Mr. Pugh had banished himself to the farthest reaches of the gathering, sitting alone but with a calm air that spoke of someone quite comfortable with the solitude, rather like Prudence often employed. Quiet contemplation. And yet, like her sister, he did glance out at the others, as though content with his current situation whilst also wishing for someone to intrude.
And Rosanna was quite happy to oblige.
Taking Miss Morton by the arm, she guided the young lady towards Mr. Pugh.
“Hello, there,” said Rosanna with a smile, which the gentleman matched as he stood to greet them.
“Good afternoon, Miss Leigh. And how do you fare?”
“I am quite anxious to introduce you to a friend of mine,” said Rosanna, patting Miss Morton’s arm before giving the introductions. “Just the other day during a morning call, she was telling me of a book she was reading about the local flora and fauna.”
