“How lucky you are,” she sighed. “It must be lovely to roam through nature in such fine weather.” Indeed, the weather had cleared up and for the first time in weeks, the sky was bright and sunny.
Some things in life were inevitable, simply bound to happen, and there was nothing one could do about it. Before Georg could intervene, that cursed Schneider opened his mouth and said, “Then why don’t you join us, Miss Honeywell?”
To which she replied, beaming, “Truly? What a wonderful idea! One moment, let me go and procure a hamper.” And before he could stop her, she’d organised not only a prodigious hamper, stuffed with food, drinks, porcelain tea cups, wine glasses, blankets and pillows, but also two footmen to carry it all.
“Miss Honeywell,” Georg grated out through clenchedteeth, “this is not meant to be an outing in Hyde Park with an al fresco meal.”
“Oh, I know very well,” she said airily, as she tied the pink satin ribbons of her bonnet under her chin, “but one does need some sustenance when one spends time out in the fresh air. There. I am ready. Let us go.”
Thus it came that instead of his solitary outing, he went on a stroll, complete with a blasted picnic, Schneider, two footmen, two dogs, and his bride in tow.
It was clear that she and Schneider dealt extremely well together. More than that; it appeared they had developed that kind of close camaraderie that allowed them to drop all pretences of formality and tease each other.
He clenched his jaw. It was most irritating to behold.
She was giggling without pause, which alone required him to summon all his patience. Schneider extended his hand to help her step across each pebble they encountered on the way, for clearly she was incapable of doing so on her own.
By noon, they had barely reached the foot of the mountain; on any other day he would have been at the summit by then.
When, barely five minutes later, she declared that she would surely faint from starvation, and the footmen began to lay out the blankets, pillows and the meal they’d dragged along, he exhaled his frustration in an impatient huff. Very well. Let her eat, then send her home. With Schneider. Then he could go on alone, and with some luck hunt a deer before the sun set.
Schneider was bragging about his hunting expertise and what a crack shot he was, and how many trophies he’d brought home. “But Hartenberg, really, is the better shot,” he added loyally.
“Is he, indeed?” She gave him a calculating look.
He did not deign to answer. He heaved his flintlock to his other shoulder and stepped away.
“Where are you going?” Schneider called after him, in the middle of consuming a chicken leg.
“I will see you this evening.” He would seize this chance to escape.
Except he had not accounted for the poppet, who, quick as a flash, had risen and come after him, jumping lithely over the boulder that lay across the path.
He blinked.
“I am coming with you.”
“I suggest that you not, Miss Honeywell. You won’t be able to keep up with me. My pace is hard and I make no stops.”
She brushed the crumbs off her hands. “That won’t be necessary. I won’t be holding you back.”
He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “I won’t stop and wait for you, either.”
She nodded, and gestured for him to go ahead. “Neither shall I.”
Schneider threw his chicken bone away. “Wait for me,” he protested.
Georg’s pacewas fast and hard. He gave no thought to his betrothed’s delicate constitution, nor to Schneider, who panted after him as he struggled to keep up.
After an hour of steep, steady climbing, he finally paused to look over his shoulder, and recoiled as he nearly collided with Evie.
“What’s the matter?” she said, serenely. “Running out of breath?”
She overtook him and went ahead, as he stared after her, blinking.
Schneider pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. “Miss Honeywell, don’t you want to take a rest?”
“Not me.” She laughed. “But do take a pause if you must. We shall meet at the top.” And with those words, she strode on ahead.
