Chapter Twenty-One #2
"I shall inform Mrs Dearwell that her reputation has been saved."
Daphne placed a hand over her heart. "Please do. She deserves recognition for her service to civilization."
Laughter rippled through the group as they settled beneath the shade of the trees. Above them, leaves stirred softly in the breeze while somewhere beyond the meadow a lark sang high overhead.
For the first time in weeks, Evangeline felt the constant pressure surrounding their marriage begin to ease. There were no curious eyes from London society here. No whispered discussions of heirs or obligations beyond enjoying the afternoon.
"Lemonade?" Anthony offered.
Evangline accepted, taking a sip of the cool, sweet drink.
She then glanced at Rosalind, who was not looking at her, but at Sebastian.
He was standing beside the picnic table constructing what appeared to be a monument to excessive confidence.
His plate was already heavily laden with food.
Yet he continued adding to it.
A second slice of ham, another piece of chicken, a wedge of cheese, a pork pie, two bread rolls and a generous helping of strawberries.
Evangeline watched in astonishment. Surely he had finished, but he had not. He surveyed the table once more and then added a tart.
"Good Lord," Rosalind muttered.
Evangeline bit back a smile. "What is it?"
Rosalind shook her head slightly but her eyes did not leave Sebastian, who was now balancing his plate with the concentration of a military engineer attempting to construct a bridge.
"I have never seen one man consume so much food," she said.
As if sensing he was being discussed, Sebastian looked up, and their eyes met.
Evangeline watched, much to Rosalind's horror, as he immediately raised the overloaded plate in acknowledgement.
The movement caused one of the rolls to tumble into the grass.
Sebastian stared at it while the roll stared back.
Daphne gasped dramatically. "We have suffered a casualty."
As Sebastian bent to retrieve the fallen roll, the movement shifted the balance of the plate.
A strawberry escaped, and then a piece of cheese. By the time he finally reached the picnic blankets, he appeared to have lost nearly a quarter of his luncheon along the journey.
Rosalind was laughing behind her hand as Sebastian lowered himself onto the rug opposite her.
"I should like everyone to know that I was sabotaged."
"By whom?" Rosalind asked. "Your own gluttony?"
"There was a breeze."
"There is no breeze," Rosalind replied dryly.
Sebastian grinned sheepishly as Rosalind shook her head.
"You loaded enough food for six people."
"I was planning ahead."
"For what? Winter?"
Sebastian pointed at Rosalind with his fork. "You mock me now, but when famine comes, I shall be vindicated."
Rosalind smiled despite herself. "I look forward to witnessing your triumph."
Evangeline watched the exchange, hiding her own smile behind her cup. Because for a woman supposedly uninterested in Lord Wrexham, Rosalind certainly spent a great deal of time watching him.
The picnic progressed with far more laughter than formality.
After luncheon, Rosalind and Sebastian wandered toward the stream while Lady Margaret settled beneath the shade of an oak tree with a novel. Evangeline suspected her mother was perfectly content to spend the remainder of the afternoon there.
That left Anthony, Daphne, and herself, which was when Daphne discovered the kite.
The thing had apparently been packed among the picnic supplies for the amusement of younger village children who occasionally visited the estate.
Daphne seized upon it immediately. "A kite!" She held it up triumphantly. "We shall have a competition."
Anthony sighed. "Kites are for children."
"Is the great Duke of Blackwood afraid he might lose to a girl?" Daphne challenged.
"Daphne," Evangline cautioned.
"What?" she said innocently. "Titles are all very well, but can he fly a kite?"
"I survived a war."
"Well then flying a kite should be a bagatelle."
Evangline glanced at Anthony, wondering if he was strong enough to resist Daphne. Then he exhaled slowly, shaking his head.
"Fine."
"Ha!" Daphne cried in triumph.
Within minutes, her youngest sister had dragged Anthony into the middle of the meadow while Evangeline watched from the blanket.
The breeze was perfect. Unfortunately, Anthony's confidence appeared considerably less so.
"Run faster!" Daphne shouted.
"I am running."
"Not fast enough."
"I am thirty-six years old," he panted.
"Run, old man!"
The kite rose beautifully for perhaps ten glorious seconds, then immediately veered sideways. Anthony attempted to correct it, but the kite ignored him, and a moment later it plunged directly into the branches of a nearby oak tree.
Silence settled over the meadow for a moment, and then Daphne threw both hands into the air.
Anthony ran a hand through his hair, grumbling something unintelligible that Evangline assumed was not fit for a lady's ears.
"I could use your help retrieving it," Anthony said, turning to Daphne.
She grinned. "Of course, your Grace," she agreed. "It will be a good opportunity to see if your tree climbing is superior to your kite flying."
As Evangline watched them, she could hardly believe that the Beast of Blackwood, feared throughout London, was allowing her seventeen-year-old sister to torment him for sport.
A short while later, the kite had been safely retrieved and Anthony lay on the blanket beside her.
Daphne had gone off to the stream to convince Sebastian to teach her to skip stones.
From where they sat, she could see Rosalind laughing at Sebastian.
When she glanced down at Anthony, his arms were folded behind his head and his eyes were closed. She reached out and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Anthony smiled, but his eyes remained closed. After a moment, she lay down beside him, closing her eyes. She listened to the wind blowing through the trees and the laughter coming from the stream. She listened to Anthony breathing steadily beside her.
And she knew that this afternoon was one of those rare occasions in life that did not come too often. A time they would remember and tell their children one day.
Anthony had given her this, and so much more.
And Evangeline knew that her feelings for him were now beyond gratitude.
In that moment, beneath the warm summer sky, she realised with complete certainty that her heart was no longer her own.