“Miss Lucy said you cry all the time. Can you cry now? I’ve never seen a gentleman cry.”
“I...er. I can’t cry at the moment. I am too pleased to have met you. Perhaps later?”
“Will you call me when you cry so I might see?”
“Of course. I came to ask you and Miss Lucy if you might like to go for a walk.”
“Oh, we have been on three walks already today. Look, these are the rocks I found on our last walk.” He pointed to a small pile of pebbles. “And these are the sticks I found on our first walk. I found a frog too, but Miss Lucy wouldn’t let me bring him back.”
“We couldn’t take the frog away from his family,” Lucy said, her voice wan.
“That’s what she says,” Johnny whispered loudly, “but I think she’s afraid of frogs. Mama screams whenever she finds a frog or a snake in the house.”
“I’m not afraid of frogs,” Lucy said, sounding unconvincing. “And I do think we should go for another walk. You haven’t shown me King Henry’s Mound yet.”
An adjoining door opened and a woman holding an infant poked her head in. “Oh, excuse me,” she said when she saw Duncan.
“Wilhemina, this is my brother Duncan Smith. He is the new footman,” Lucy said, taking a step back as Johnny plowed into Lucy’s legs and then gave her a hug.
“Ah, yes. Molly told me about you.”
Duncan smiled. Molly had been very welcoming to him, bringing him tea and taking time out of her work to make sure he was not lost and had no questions.
“I am the nurse for this little one.” She nodded at the baby in her arms, who was cooing and kicking his feet.
“We are going to look at King Henry’s Mound,” Johnny proclaimed.
“Oh.” Wilhemina glanced at Lucy. “Ada brought in biscuits and sandwiches for tea.”
“Tea!” Johnny’s eyes went round. “I’m so hungry.”
“Then you must have tea,” Lucy said. “We can see the mound tomorrow.”
“This way then.” Wilhemina opened the door to the nursery wider, and Johnny ran past her.
“Do you mind if I escort my sister on a brief walk?” Duncan asked.
“Go ahead,” Wilhemina said. “When you return, we can do baths and bedtime.” She closed the door and Lucy stared at it.
“Oh, good. Baths and bedtime.”
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” he said, knowing there would be less chance of being overheard.
She followed him outside, whereupon he paused and looked about. He’d been to many grand houses over the years, but this one was especially lovely. Pembroke Lodge was a white structure, long and low, built on the high ground forming the western edge of Richmond Park. Like many old houses, it had been altered and added to over the years, giving it a sort of haphazard charm. There was no question why the original builders had chosen this location. The house stood on top of a wooded ridge, which was quite steep in places, but afforded the residents a breathtaking view of the Thames Valley. He’d seen hundreds of acres of fields as he’d looked through the windows inside. Now that he was outside, he marveled at the wide expanse of land before them, gently rolling and green with summer.
A cooling breeze blew off the nearby Thames River and rustled the trees. He was no expert on trees, but he knew an oak, a beech, and a lime tree. McAlpin had also mentioned the two Lombardy poplars that stood near the house and were the pride of Lord John.
“Do you have a preference for which way we should walk?” he asked.
“This way,” she said, pointing away from the house. “It leads to what they call The Wilderness. It’s an informal garden, though I’d say it’s grown rather wild. But as we don’t want to be observed, that’s to our advantage. It was decidedly disadvantageous earlier today when I spent twenty minutes frantically searching for Johnny, only to find he was sitting on a bench behind a large lime tree the entire time.”
“You seem to have had a difficult day,” he said, following her to the garden.
“Why do you say that?”
Duncan knew enough about women not to point out that she looked as though she’d been run over by a coach and four.
“No reason.”
