“Oh, there’s always work to be done,” he said. “Cataloging, sketching, that sort of thing.” He looked up, and when I heard the catch in his breath, I turned to see what had alarmed him. A group of uniformed British soldiers was approaching. Henry abruptly leaned over to study the ground beside our picnic blanket. “Will you look at that? What an interesting specimen.” He took a pad and pencil from his coat pocket and began sketching. He didn’t look up from the notebook until the soldiers had passed.

I wished I dared tell him I knew his secret. I thought it must be exhausting maintaining his façade, and I hoped for his sake that he really did have some interest in insects, or surely he must go mad having to learn enough to convincingly feign an obsession. He took off his hat with a trembling hand and set it aside as he leaned over his sketchbook, his unruly hair falling across his forehead.

“Uncle! Draw me!” Olive cried out.

Henry gave her a shaky smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve drawn something that only had two legs, but I’ll try. Don’t be alarmed if I give you wings, though.”

She giggled and leaned against me. Rollo barely noticed the rest of us as he watched the airship come closer on its way downtown. A shadow fell on us as it passed overhead, and I shivered. When I glanced down from the sky, I found myself looking directly into Henry’s eyes. He looked as pained as I felt, but then he forced a smile and turned his notebook around to show us what he’d done.

“Does this meet with your approval, my lady?” he asked Olive. He’d drawn not only Olive, but also Rollo and me, and although it was a quick pencil sketch, it seemed very lifelike, capturing Olive’s wide-eyed innocence and Rollo’s fascination with something that lay beyond the edge of the page. I looked prettier than I was accustomed to seeing myself in the mirror. The loose wisps of hair around my face looked like winsome tendrils instead of untidiness, and he’d drawn me with a mysterious smile that made me wonder what I’d been thinking.

“Oh! Can I have it?” Olive asked.

“May you have it,” I automatically corrected even as I stared at the sketch and wondered if that was how he saw me.

“Yes, you may, but wait until we get home before I take it out of the book, so it won’t get crumpled,” Henry said. He glanced at me. “Did it meet with your approval, Miss Newton?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye because I knew I’d blush furiously. “You’re wasting your talent drawing bugs. That’s quite good.”

“A proper young nobleman can’t do something so common as take commissions or have a gallery show.”