“Little one, you have been sick?” The duke held the child up like he could spot that she’d had a cold.
“Just a little, but nothing out of the ordinary for the spring, Your Grace,” Katherine said. “Sniffles and a fever.”
The duke squinted at her. His brow creased as he settled the child next to him. After touching her forehead, he made sure her crooked bonnet was secure. “A cold head can get you sicker, little one. You’re feeling a little hot now.”
Lydia put her head against his shoulder.
His gaze at Katherine hardened. My heart sank as I thought,Great, another man repulsed by a sick child.
“She’s a little warm, Lady Hampton.” His tone sounded stiff, even more accusatory. “Perhaps we should’ve deferred.”
My sister looked panicked, but said, “She’s fine. She refused to miss today.”
“All the beautiful flowers can make for scratchy throats,” Lydia said. “But I’m not sick anymore. No missing this. I didn’t wanna not see you.”
“She does get sick often in the spring, Your Grace.” I added this to try to make the duke look easier, but little Lydia was sick often throughout the year. I always thought of Mama when the child didn’t feel well. I bet Katherine did too. “But she was dancing this morning, like always when she comes to see you.”
He put his arm about Lydia and again kissed her brow. “I’m glad you are here too. I would make the world stop for you.”
The happiness bubbling in the child’s eyes brought tears to mine. Katherine’s too.
“And I have so much I want to tell you. I drew the map. And . . . there was something else . . .” Lydia shivered. “I’ll remember.”
“Well, you will tell me later.” The duke took off his scarf and wound it about her shoulders. Then he put a finger to his lips motioning to Lydia to let me and Lord Mark chat.
My music teacher seemed distracted, gazing toward the plane trees with his scope to his eyes. In Hyde Park, so many of the trees stood tall with the bark flaking off like camouflage.
“If you are not going to pay attention to Miss Wilcox, Sebastian,” the duke said, “we could’ve postponed.”
“Bird-watching with my faux fiancée will be my pleasure, Torrance.”
The duke tapped his lips. “The last time you had that pocket scope, you were telling me of birds and the music room at Kenwood.”
Mark’s mouth opened and shut. No words came out, but he shook his head.
He gave a loud sigh. “Being here where things are true, not painted, Torrance, is why I prefer Hyde Park than a stuffy estate.”
“No inside.” Lydia coughed and said it again. “We wanted to go for a drive with the duke today.”
“Settle, sweetie,” Katherine said. “You’re always a little irritable when you don’t feel well.”
Lydia pushed my sister’s hand away and clung to the duke’s arm. “I’m fine. I’ll be good.”
One would think Katherine beat her by the way she shivered and protested.
“You’re with me, my sweet.” The duke imitated Katherine’s voice. “And that means you’ll be good.”
“Yes. Yes.”
He turned to Lord Mark and me. “Why don’t you two take a walk, then come back. Then you can talk. We can chaperone from here and meet you at the Serpentine.”
Katherine shot heated glances at me, but when my music teacher grasped my hand, I couldn’t see anything but the path called Rotten Row.
Bright yellow daffodils led us to another arbor of plane trees. These had more peeling bark that exposed the tender, lighter skin underneath.
“Do you think, Lord Mark, that these trees shed secrets to cast them away or do they expose them to the world?”
“And good afternoon to you too, Miss Wilcox. I see we start immediately with your questions.”
