be taken advantage of if I have anything to say in the matter.â
Mr. Rowe nodded vaguely and moved off in the direction of his office.
Mrs. Rowe, meanwhile, was a different story altogether. When she joined Elizabeth at the table, she was bubbling with high spirits.
âDo you not agree that everyone enjoyed last evening excessively, Miss Rossiter?â she began. âSuch friendly, informal entertainment, such agreeable company, such stimulating conversation.â
âIndeed, maâam, it appeared to me that your efforts had met with great success,â Elizabeth agreed kindly.
âElva Hendrickson assured me that the evening was a far greater success than the Worthing ball was. Insipid, she called that.â
Elizabeth murmured a diplomatic comment.
âI do believe the Marquess of Hetherington is smitten with Cecily, do you not agree, Miss Rossiter?â Mrs. Rowe continued. âHe is so particular in his attentions to her. It would be such a splendid match for her. I can hardly wait to see Maria Worthingâs face if he should offer for her.â
Elizabeth felt that her opinion was being called for. âHis lordship is a very charming man,â she said carefully, âand of course, he is taken with Cecilyâs prettiness. I am not sure, though, maâam, that his behavior amounts to more than gallantry. I believe I have heard that he is something of a rake.â Elizabeth had heard no such thing, in fact, but it seemed likely to be true, she assured herself guiltily.
âA rake?â Mrs. Rowe repeated incredulously. âSurely not, my dear. Such a charming man! But I certainly do not like that sharp-tongued Miss Norris, who seems forever to be hanging on his sleeve. She sets her cap at him altogether too openly.â
âI believe they may have an understanding,â Elizabeth said hesitantly. âShe hinted as much when she was introduced to me.â
âIndeed!.â the other lady said sharply. âThen perhaps it may be a good idea to keep a close eye on Cecily at tomorrowâs picnic, Miss Rossiter. I do not want the girl to be hurt or made to look foolish.â
âI shall do all in my power to prevent either, maâam,â Elizabeth replied calmly.
And so, if Elizabeth had not gone to the picnic as a result of Hetheringtonâs dare, she would certainly have gone as a result of the express concern of Cecilyâs parents.
It had been decided that the old church should be the site of the picnic. Hetherington had taken on the role of host. All the members of the Ferndale party were to be present, and in addition he had invited Cecily and Elizabeth, Ferdie and Lucy Worthing, Anne Claridge, and Mr. Dowling. The party was to assemble at Ferndale at eleven in the morning and travel together by horse or barouche.
After much animated discussion, it was decided that the gentlemen would ride and also Amelia Norris and Lucy Worthing, who was an excellent horsewoman. The remaining four ladies were handed into the barouche by a smiling, high-spirited Hetherington. When it came to Elizabethâs turn, she gathered her skirts together and would have stepped into the conveyance unassisted. But his outstretched hand did not waver. She had to accept his assistance or appear rude in front of an audience.
And so she placed her hand in his and he gripped it firmly. She was touching him again after six long years. For a moment she forgot time and occasion. It could be no one elseâs hand: warm, broad, capable. She had once thought she could put her whole life in it and be safe. She looked up wide-eyed into his face. His blue eyes looked steadilyâand blanklyâback into hers.
âMaâam?â he said politely, and she stepped into the barouche and released his hand.
Once the picnic site had been established, the party broke up into two groups. The picnic blankets were laid at the foot of the small hill, at the only spot that was well
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