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Jane managed a smile. “No, it is not about Cook.” She paused, gathering her courage. “It’s about Mrs. Stanley.”

Asher looked at her curiously. “What about Mrs. Stanley?”

“She died last night.” There. She’d said it. She held her breath as Asher appeared to process the words.

“She died?”

Jane nodded.

“Like Elijah?”

Jane swallowed hard and looked to Aunt Millward for help. How was she to answer this simple question when she did not know exactly what had happened to Elijah?

“Perhaps,” Aunt Millward supplied. “Miss Hadford does not know the details, dear. We only know that Mrs. Stanley is gone.”

“Is Mr. Stanley gone too?”

“No. Mr. Stanley and Charlie are still here,” Jane said.

Asher fiddled with a piece of thread on his breeches. “They don’t know how to make bwead or gwuel.”

Jane felt tears prick her eyes, and she leaned her cheek against Asher’s head. “That doesn’t matter, because you won’t ever be going back to the Stanleys’ house.”

He twisted to face her, hope shining in his eyes. “Can I stay with you?”

Her heart ached. “I hope you will be here for a very long time.”

“That’s good,” he said, wiggling free of her arms. “So when the tadpoles change into fwogs, I can take them back to the pond.”

Jane watched with bemusement as Asher ran back to the table and leaned closer to the jar. She caught Aunt Millward’s eye, and the older lady gave her an approving nod. Resilience indeed. Asher may respond differently after he had more time to absorb the news, but for now, he appeared to have taken Mrs. Stanley’s passing in stride.

Two hours later, Jane looked out over the vast lawn at Bloxley Hall and marveled at the sight. If beautiful weather and an excellent turnout were any indication, Lady Bloxley’s picnic was a rousing success. The grass was dotted with blankets. Families were gathered in small groups with children running joyfully between them, and hampers overflowing with breads, pies, fruits, and cooked meats were scattered beneath every tree.

Although it had been touted as a country picnic, the attendees were dressed in their finest. The women wore beautiful silk gowns with matching hats trimmed with lace and ribbon. Most of the gentlemen wore white wigs, making it difficult to tell them apart. Only the variety in color of the elegant jackets and vests enabled Jane to spot the few men she recognized. Alexander, she noticed, had opted to lightly powder his hair rather than wear a wig. It had been a prudent decision given the warmth of the afternoon sun, but it also made him an easy target for every young lady in the vicinity. Jane had yet to speak with him, and as she was not of a mind to join the other young ladies buzzing around him, she thought it unlikely to happen before she returned home.

Her father was talking to a couple of gentlemen several yards away. If the hand gestures were any indication, they were discussing a hunt. Her mother and Mrs. Tanner were sitting on the far side of the blanket, discussing the latest hat fashions in London, and Aunt Millward was watching over their hamper, whooshing away the flies with her fan while she observed the comings and goings around them.

Phoebe had taken herself off with another young lady to join the battledore and shuttlecock game at the other end of the lawn. For a while, Jane had watched them play from her cushioned seat on the blanket, but when Alexander and Lady Emma joined the game, she found it harder to view without self-pity rearing its ugly head. It was better for everyone if she focused on something else.

“Would you care to join in any of the children’s games, Asher?” The little boy had not moved from her side since they’d arrived at Bloxley Hall. His wide-eyed hesitancy in so large a crowd was reminiscent of the child he’d been at the Stanleys’ house. Recognizing his fear, she was unwilling to push him beyond where he felt comfortable.

Asher shook his head and burrowed even closer into her side. “Can we go to Lord Bloxley’s house now?”

“We are at Lord Bloxley’s house,” she said, pointing to the magnificent home to her left.

“But why are all these people here?”

“They’ve come to the picnic, just like us.”

He frowned. “I don’t like picnics. I like catching tadpoles.”

Jane put her arm around his thin shoulders and gave him a light squeeze. She understood. If she were honest with herself, she’d rather be at the pond with Asher and Lord Bloxley than at the picnic watching the earl converse with one eligible young lady after another.

“What about a pony ride?” Lady Millward said between waves of the fan. “It appears that a couple of the Bloxley grooms are taking children out on rides over by the stables.”

Asher raised his head, his interest piqued.

“Do you see them?” Jane asked, pointing to the gravel courtyard.