“Here,” Findlay murmured, pointing to the top of the right-hand page.

“Thank you,” she murmured and began to read. Forced to concentrate on the words, she could not get distracted by Robert, and Lisa found herself relaxing and getting involved in the story. She was so wrapped up in the story line that it wasn’t until Robert spoke that she realized the shadow cast over her wasn’t merely a cloud blocking the sun, but him standing, looming over her.

“It’s getting late.”

She blinked and glanced up at those words and then frowned and glanced around, surprised to see that the sun was low in the sky. “Oh,” she murmured. “Yes, of course.”

Nodding, he turned and strode back to his tree where his horse was grazing, and Lisa smiled apologetically at Charles. “I suppose we should return, my lord. But thank you for a lovely time. The picnic was delicious and really, this is a wonderful story.”

“Yes, it is,” he agreed wryly, getting to his feet and offering her a hand to help her up. “I was quite enjoying your narration of it. You have a delightful way of giving personality to the characters.”

“Oh, thank you,” she murmured, blushing faintly.

“Do not thank me. It is little more than the truth. I hope you will save our spot and continue on with the story when we next meet. I do not think I would enjoy it as much without you reading it.”

“Oh, that’s very kind,” she said, flattered. Lisa then glanced around, eyes widening with surprise when she saw that their picnic was already packed away and only the blanket was left to be folded and put away.

“I tidied up a bit while you were reading,” he said with amusement, bending to pick up the blanket and fold it. “You were so involved in the story you did not even notice.”

“Oh,” she murmured and then laughed, and repeated, “Well, it is a good story.”

“I cannot agree more, and it pleases me that we both appear to have the same taste in books,” he commented, then laid the blanket over his arm and moved closer to take her hands in his. “It would be nice to have a wife read to me at night by the fire.”

Lisa’s eyes widened slightly and then she ducked her head, confusion rifling through her. “Well, that sounds pleasant.”

“Doesn’t it?” he agreed. “Would you be that wi—”

“It’s going to start raining,” Robert interrupted briskly, suddenly appearing beside them and catching Lisa’s arm to drag her toward his horse. “You will ride back with me. It is quicker than a carriage trying to move through the traffic.”