Chapter 16 #2
Before she could respond, he clapped his hand to his head. “I have completely forgotten that I promised to inquire on your behalf for members’ wives who might wish to donate—and to assist you in arranging the visits.”
Sophia had not forgotten it. She had nobly agreed when Miss Edwards asked it of her because she thought it the right thing to do, but she had not yet found the courage to seek anyone out and begin. “Yes, I have not yet fulfilled that promise.”
“I will not forget again,” he vowed, then swiveled in his seat to point. “That is the meadow I had in mind for us.”
Sophia trained her eyes on the pretty stretch of grass.
There was a stone walkway on the bank with an iron hook that made it easy for the wherry to pull up alongside it.
The grass sloped gently upward where they could set their picnic.
Farther ahead was a true meadow, and if one continued along the river, the path disappeared into a wooded area.
A spreading oak provided shade nearby, and the area was empty of pleasure-seekers.
One of the watermen pushed the boat over to the bank and threw the rope over.
The other leapt out, but before he could secure it, Evo landed on the walkway, dropped the big stick he had brought, and wrapped the rope around the iron ring.
“May I hand this to you?” Mr. Harwood lifted up a basket, which Evo took and set to the side, and they repeated the process until all the baskets had been transferred to land.
Then Mr. Harwood helped Sophia, her sisters, and Miss Harwood to alight from the boat.
He did not release her from his firm grasp until she stood on solid ground and smiled at him in thanks.
As each carried an item over to the shaded spot, Mr. Harwood conferred with the watermen about the time to return, then grabbed the largest basket and followed in their wake.
Despite some of the protruding roots under the tree, there was space enough in the shaded area for soft grass, and they had a perfect view of the river.
A family of ducks paddled by, undisturbed by the progress of a passenger barge.
The setting was idyllic with the sounds of lapping water and the chirping of a wagtail, and Sophia thought she had never been so happy in her life.
When everything had been set out, she sat, and Mr. Harwood immediately took the seat at her side.
She tried not to put meaning to the gesture and busied herself with setting out the food and admiring the sandwiches, which Miss Harwood quietly admitted to having prepared.
“Excellent,” Evo said, taking one. “Fiat lux!” When Tilly looked at him confused, he took a bite of his sandwich. “It’s Latin for, ‘Let there be luncheon.’”
Miss Harwood smothered a laugh, and the corner of Mr. Harwood’s lip tipped upward. “To any Roman citizen from antiquity, they would have thought it to mean, ‘Let there be light,’ but I might like your definition better.”
Evo returned a genuine smile, and Sophia was touched to see it. The only other gentlemen he had ever seemed to like were Miles and his cousin, Lord Pembroke. His easy manner with Mr. Harwood was in stark contrast to his antagonism toward Mr. Cunningworth.
“Would you care for some lemonade?” Mr. Harwood asked, and Sophia smiled and nodded. He served everyone a glass as Camilla set the plates out.
Evo filled his plate quickly and immediately tucked in to his food, causing Camilla to utter a reproach. “Do try to eat as a gentleman and not as a mongrel.”
“I will if you allow me the use of your sleeve.” Without looking up from his ham he added, “Looks more like a napkin, that gown you’re wearing.”
Embarrassed by his behavior, Sophia shook her head at him. “A gentleman does not put aside his manners, even when in informal company.”
“My excuses,” he mumbled without looking at anyone.
Sophia asked Miss Harwood questions about her life at home, while Mr. Harwood examined each of the sketches that were already in Tilly’s book. Two swans glided by in front of them, and she was almost too happy to eat.
She had barely touched her lemonade, so when she went to drink some, was surprised to find her glass nearly empty. At the same time, Mr. Harwood lifted his, spilling some as he brought it to his lips. He pulled away in surprise.
“I’m not sure this is my glass. I had thought I’d drunk more of mine.”
Evo was clutching his sides in laughter. “I switched them. I’m sure you will not mind sharing a glass, since you appear to share a regard.” This crass jest was met by an awkward silence, and Sophia felt her face turn crimson.
“Not at all,” Mr. Harwood said smoothly, recovering the situation. He gently took his glass from Sophia’s hands and handed hers to her. “However, I do not want to deprive your sister.”
It was inevitable that Evo would embarrass her, but the fact that he had thought them to share a partiality gave Sophia pause. Did he really think so?
Does Mr. Harwood?
If Mr. Harwood felt any self-consciousness at Evo’s teasing, it did not show.
He was at ease, even giving Evo back his own before turning to encourage Tilly and his own sister.
It was as though he were already part of the family.
One could almost say like a brother, except that her feelings toward him were anything but.