“I do not know that I have ever seen such a pair as the two of you.”

Jane kept her gaze fixed on the path, letting her bonnet hide her expression. Had she lifted her head, the fury on her face would have been enough to make Medusa envious. “I am glad I could amuse you.”

Melody’s renewed laughter did nothing to improve Jane’s spirits.

Six

Strawberries and Bonnets

The strawberry-picking party was delayed once because of weather and again because Captain Livingston had an engagement in town, but at last all the elements co-operated and the party gathered at Long Parkmead in anticipation of their outing.

Miss Dunkirk arrived on horseback, quite alone. As she alighted, her face was rosy and aglow with delight.

“Oh, Miss Ellsworth, you would not believe how beautiful it is this morning. I woke before the sun and thought I should never see such a morning. I begged Edmund to take me riding.”

“But where is Mr. Dunkirk?”

“Oh, his gelding is so slow.” She waved a hand languidly behind her as Mr. Dunkirk appeared on the road. “There. See? He is only now coming. He would have stayed in Robinsford Abbey all day, but I made him go out. The sky was so glorious with colours. You would not believe such colors.”

“Then you must tell me all about them so that I may imagine them for myself.” Jane smiled and took her young friend by the hands. They had spent a great deal of time together of late. The girl had come to call at every opportunity, sometimes riding over without her brother to spend the afternoon learning some of the finer points of glamour from Jane. Other days they spent the afternoon rambling through the estate and talking of nothing and everything, for though their ages were separated by more than ten years, Miss Dunkirk had about her a combination of youthful exuberance and steadiness of manner which Jane found appealing. Too, Jane had to admit, she was often out of sorts with Melody these days, and Miss Dunkirk provided a welcome distraction.

In short order they heard the unmistakable sound of Lady FitzCameron’s coach-and-four arriving. Jane was not at all surprized to see Captain Livingston accompanying Lady FitzCameron and her daughter, but she was quite surprized to see the other gentleman who arrived with them.

“I do hope you do not mind extending your invitation to Mr. Vincent.” Lady FitzCameron indicated by her smile that of course they could not possibly mind her taking the liberty. “He has expressed an interest in the view from your hill for quite some time.”

“But, Lady FitzCameron,” exclaimed Mrs. Ellsworth, “you had only to tell us. Mr. Vincent would have been welcome at any time. You only need let your wishes be known. We are too, too happy to oblige.”

“So kind,” Lady FitzCameron murmured, already losing interest in the conversation.

Mr. Vincent made a short bow and took up a station by the wall of the drawing room, looking as stiff and uncomfortable as it was possible for a man to be. Jane occupied herself on the far side of the room, leaving Mrs. Ellsworth to sweep over to him and try to engage him in conversation. His answers were short, almost to the point of rudeness, so much so that Jane almost mustered some empathy for her mother from where she conversed with Miss FitzCameron and Miss Dunkirk. Mrs. Ellsworth had attempted to ascertain something of Mr. Vincent’s family—specifically, which of the Vincents he was associated with—by asking where he was from, and only received the most cursory of answers: that he was from London.