Page 24 of The Gentlewoman Companion

“Not on my calendar,” he shouted back, though it was his scheduled time for a break—and a welcome distraction from the thick ledger in front of him.

She peeked into his study. “Be ready in a quarter of an hour. We will picnic.”

With a twinge of guilt James set aside the account book his steward had asked him to examine. With so little time, how could he hope to grasp both the complexities of politics as well as his estate?

He stepped outside to await the arrival of his mother and Miss Thorpe. Anticipation twisted his stomach. He’d not seen Miss Thorpe since he’d disclosed his personal affairs to her the day before.

His mother and Miss Thorpe stepped over the threshold in unison.

“James,” his mother said. “You came.”

Miss Thorpe acknowledged him with a nod. “My lord.” Her eyes slid past him.

“Good morning, Miss Thorpe.” Their prior conversation hung between them. Halverton shoved his hands in his pockets.

“A flawless day!” His mother took a deep breath and tilted her face to the sun.

“Isn’t it just?” Louisa followed his mother’s example, the two resembling daisies with their bonnets fanning around their faces.

A clopping sound drew their attention. Mrs. Beecham and Miss Fischer approached on a donkey carriage.

“However did it slip my mind?” his mother asked. “We were meant to meet this morning.”

“Could you invite them along?” Louisa asked.

“There is certainly enough food,” his mother said.

The sisters approached, and his mother greeted them. “Good morning.” She received them warmly. “I’ve planned a surprise picnic! Please say I’ve not committed a terrible faux pas in assuming you could come.”

“We would be delighted.” Mrs. Beecham turned to Miss Thorpe. “We are pleased to see you again.” Miss Fischer took Miss Thorpe’s hand and expressed a similar sentiment. Halverton watched Miss Thorpe relax under the attention. He did not know the sisters well, but he was disposed to like them.

“Since you are outnumbered, James,” his mother said, “you may decide where we go.”

“Shall we ask Miss Thorpe?” In acknowledging her, he hoped to quell the awkwardness between them. He turned to her. “In Cornwall, what sorts of places did you enjoy?”

“Oh! The beach, for certain. There was a little undiscovered awn. I sat on the rocks for hours, watching for cankers and fishermen to go out and return, the tide to rise and fall. Sometimes, I took out a little boat.”

“I don’t have an ocean, but there is a pond. Shall we?”

“Lovely,” his mother said. “I haven’t been in an age.”

“How far is it?” Miss Fischer asked.

“Perhaps a mile in the direction you came. Twenty minutes by foot,” Halverton said.

“Is it difficult to find?” Miss Fisher asked.

“Not once you know the way.”

“I hesitate to leave the cart.” Miss Fischer patted her donkey. “We must be home by three for Quiet Hour, which may not allow us time to retrieve it.”

Various solutions circulated, all of which they discarded on account of Lady Halverton and the sisters wishing to converse for as long as possible.

Graham arrived with a horse, saddle bags tight with their picnic.

Halverton went to him. “Thank you for riding ahead to lay the table.”

Graham nodded, and Halverton’s attention returned to the ladies.