“Yes, I’m as toasty as if I’m beside a fire.”
“Enough wryness.”
“I do not remember agreeing to that.”
“Are you two coming?” a voice called from up ahead.
They turned to look up the hill. Ahead of them, Lady Charlotte was walking with Mr. Becker and Lady Frederica. Further down the hill were Lord Chilmond and the rest of the party.
“Coming!” Dorothy called back and hurried ahead. When she started to run, Stephen caught up with her.
“No running,” he hissed.
“Why not?” She slowed her pace. “I was enjoying myself.”
“I know, but your brother asked me to come for more than one reason.”
“To be my keeper, you mean.”
Her smile had gone now as she walked calmly alongside him, and Stephen regretted at once what he had said. He had been enjoying her smile. He ended up trailing behind her, his eyes on her back.
At one point, as they tried to catch up to the others, walking between sycamores and magnolia trees that were just beginning to bloom with pink buds, she halted. Stephen was sure Dorothy was going to reach for one of the magnolia flowers hanging down, but then she seemed to think the better of it and changed her mind, walking on, her fidgeting now worse than ever before.
Stephen stepped forward and took hold of that flower, snapping it from its stem. He caught up to her and passed her the flower. She raised her brows queryingly.
“You should be yourself,” he muttered, aware of how deep his voice was. “I do not like to see you unhappy, Dorothy. I did not agree to come to make you miserable.”
Her lips turned up into the smallest of smiles.
“That might be the kindest thing you have ever said to me.” She took the flower and sniffed it. “Thank you. I love flowers.”
“I know you do.” He didn’t quite walk on but gestured down at her feet. “The lace of your boot is undone, by the way.”
“Oh, thank you.” She passed him the flower and reached for his other hand to steady herself as she lifted her leg to adjust the string of her boot. Stephen didn’t even think about how this looked as he balanced her. He just did it on impulse, until he felt eyes upon them.
Lady Charlotte had hung back, waiting for them, and as Stephen met her gaze, he saw a curious look in her eyes.
“Are you two courting?” she asked. “Lord Chilmond said not, but you seem—”
“No.” Dorothy abruptly released his hand. When she nearly toppled over, Stephen gripped her arm to steady her. “That is hardly helping.”
“You’re welcome,” he said wryly as she regained her balance and took the flower back from him.
“He is a friend of my brother,” Dorothy explained as she caught up with Lady Charlotte. This time, Stephen trailed a little further behind her. “I’ve known him for a long time, that is all.”
“And trust him, it seems.” Lady Charlotte smiled as she glanced between them.
Dorothy seemed shocked by this idea, her eyes wide as she looked back at Stephen, too.
“Well, perhaps she trusts me not to throw her down a hill when she’s tying her laces, yes,” Stephen quipped.
“It’s the very least I can trust,” Dorothy murmured, and he held back a smile as he walked behind them.
Having caught up with the others, Stephen helped Mr. Becker roll out three picnic blankets, with enough space for everyone to sit. Soon enough, Lord Chilmond and Lord Webster joined them, and they all sat down, with the sun rising brightly above them.
There was still a chill in the air that made Stephen pull his frock coat tighter around himself, but every time he did so, he found his eyes flicking back to Dorothy, who was sitting across from him, deep in conversation with Lady Charlotte. He thought of how her hands had lingered on his coat, helping him with the cold.
It is not good to dwell on such thoughts.
