“They are indeed,” he says as we continue our stroll through the gardens.
He waits until he’s near a bed full of bright red roses to speak again. “Tell me, how are you finding the company today?”
I sense a touch of playfulness in his tone and raise a brow. “Well, the flowers and bushes are always splendid companions.”
Mirth twinkles in his eyes as he speaks with mock solemnity. “High praise indeed. But dare I hope your assessment includes the two-legged variety as well?”
I tap my chin thoughtfully, pretending to consider my words with great care. “I suppose the two-legged variety has proven adequate thus far.”
The lord places a dramatic hand over his heart, as if I’ve dealt him a mortal blow. “Adequate? You wound me, My Lady.”
“Come now.” A smile twitches at my lips as I try to contain my humor. “Let us not pretend words of flattery would feel natural on my tongue just yet. We’ve only just met.”
He nods. “To be fair, adequate is a good assessment for two strangers barely past the first blush of acquaintance.”
I’m struck by his candor and find myself warming to him. There is an earnestness to him that I appreciate.
“An honest tongue is a rare thing in courtly circles.”
“Courtly circles breed as much dishonesty as they do gossip,” he says.
I nod, glad to find someone who shares my distaste for courtly falsities. Over the last summer, I have learned a lot about court life, and the more I have learned, the more I have wanted to stay far away from it. “My thoughts exactly, though I rarely voice them.”
His vibrant blue eyes meet mine as he speaks again. “Maybe you should.”
We come to a stone bench situated beside a fountain, where Lord Kendrick gestures for me to sit. I arrange my cotehardie, and he settles beside me.
“Lady Annora, might I make an honest confession?” he asks as he turns to face me.
“Please do.”
“I was apprehensive about today,” he admits. “Political matches rarely allow for more than tepid cordiality, but I find myself pleasantly surprised.”
I tilt my head, scrutinizing him. “Surprised?”
“Indeed.” Sincerity rings clear in his voice. “By your wit, your candor. I see now why Lady Asha speaks so highly of you.”
He smiles again, and it’s a nice smile. One that crinkles the corners of his eyes and softens the angles of his face.
“Might I persuade you to call me Kendrick? Titles stand as barriers between people. I’d like to see them lowered, if you’re willing.”
I hesitate, then incline my head. “Very well...Kendrick. You may call me Annora.”
“Annora,” he repeats. “You have a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
As Kendrick and I stand and continue walking through the gardens, he points out a vibrant patch of foxglove. “They remind me of court ladies all aflutter in their voluminous gowns.”
I laugh at the apt comparison.
We cross a carved stone bridge that arcs over a brook. I pause midway to bend down and trail my fingers through the clear water.
Kendrick leans against the bridge railing. “You know, they say our lives are like streams, ever changing as we’re shaped by the terrain we traverse.”
I glance up, once again taken aback by his astuteness. Beneath the polished lord, there is a depth I hadn’t expected.
“Do you view your own life as a winding stream, then, shaped by stones along the way?” I ask as I splash my hand through the water.
