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“Oh, Pippy!” Evie yelled. “Your kite!”

Her eyes jerked up from watching Freddie in time to see their kite dive toward the ground again. She yanked the string upward, and the kite bounced on the wind. But it was not enough. It slammed into the ground with a terrible crack of wood.

“Oh, no!” Ari cried as she hurried over to the kite, now lying in a limp and crumpled heap on the grass. “Is it broken?”

Pippy’s face flamed. “Undoubtedly,” she said. She’d ruined their kite and all because she could not keep her thoughts from wandering. And to what? Lawks, she was a ninny! She stared down at the broken, ripped kite. What would Freddie say? They’d worked so hard on it.

“I suppose the only thing left to do is lay it to rest,” his baritone voice said next to her. She looked up, only then noticing he’d joined them. The man could be as silent as the grave.

“I’m very sorry. I don’t know what happened. One moment it was flying high and the next it was on the ground.”

“Oh? You don’t?” He twisted his head to the side and studied her sidelong. His lips curved in a sort of half smile. It was almost as if he knew something. Finally, he shrugged. “No need to apologize, my dear. We shall have a proper service for it. Then.” He looked toward the sky. “I believe we should make our way back to the house. The storm is nearly here.”

She glanced over at him. “A service?”

He nodded and winked. “I think it only fitting for such a fine kite.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” his father grumbled.

Evie giggled. “A funeral for a kite? It’s most unusual.”

“But ours was a most unusual kite,” Freddie said with mock seriousness. “Does not something so special deserve that, at the very least?”

Pippy looked up at him. She still could not figure him out. She would never have suspected he could be so playful. The Freddie she remembered from her childhood had not been prone to larks. Yes, he and Lias had planned journeys to far-off lands. But it was never done lightly. At least not by Freddie.

But then, she’d learned much about him in the last fortnight. And what she’d learned, she liked…perhaps too much.

“What does one say at a kite funeral? And should we not wait and invite the vicar?” she asked, using an equally playful tone.

Freddie’s eyes widened. “Lud, no. I should not like to be sermoned to while it snows on us.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “No, I believe I shall do as well as Mr. Tomlinson would.”

Lord Kentwood shook his head, irritation evident on his face. “Weymouth, this is beyond the pale. It’s time to return to the house.” He glanced up at the skies, and for the first time, Pippy noticed the blue had turned to gray. And a chill blew through her pelisse.

“You need not stay, Father,” Freddie said. It sounded more like a request than an option.

“I’m not leaving your sisters,” Lord Kentwood said.

“Then I suppose you must endure ridiculousness.” Freddie looked heavenward. “What is there to say about a kite such as this?” He took a dramatic pause. “Never has such a kite graced the skies of Yorkshire. It flew high and strong…” He paused again. He might be right that he’d do as well as the vicar. “But alas, it met its demise at the hands of my wife, Lady Weymouth⁠—”

Pippy sucked in an indignant breath. How dare he blame it on her? It was as much his fault as hers. If he were not so handsome…so pleasant to look upon, she’d not have neglected the kite. However, to place such blame, she’d need to admit things she was not ready to admit. Instead, she accepted the fault. “Yes, you are correct. The fault is mine.”

She glanced at her father-in-law to see if he found her even more lacking now that he knew he could not trust her with a kite. He wasn’t glaring at her. But he wasn’t smiling either, so she wasn’t ready to claim victory.

Freddie continued with his eulogy. “Our dearly departed kite has yielded up its last gust of wind and gone to the place from whence all great kites have come.” He put his hand over his heart. “Earth to earth. Splinters to splinters. Wind to wind. I commend your frame to the elements.” He kneeled and placed the kite on the ground, brushing blades of grass over it. “Rest in peace, my friend. May you fly high in the currents above.” He bowed his head. “Amen.”

Pippy bit back a smile. She rather liked it when her husband was being absurd. But still she looked at Evie and then Ari, trying to decipher what was happening and what she was supposed to do.

Ari’s lips quivered. “Amen,” she agreed.

Evie looked from Freddie to Ari to Lord Kentwood. “Amen?” she said with a question in her voice.

“Really, Weymouth. This is highly inappropriate.” Lord Kentwood stared at his son. “When the Lord gave His liturgy, I do not believe He intended it for kites.”

“I believe He meant it for all things, do you not agree, Lady Pip?”

All eyes turned on her.

Pippy took a step back, but there was nothing to retreat behind. Why must Freddie drag her into this? Did he not see how much his father already disliked her? Must he force her to pick sides?