CHAPTER 27
“Istill say we should have brought a proper table.”
Owen looked up from arranging the picnic blankets to find Felix standing with his hands on his hips, surveying their preparations with theatrical dismay.
The July afternoon air was crisp but pleasant. Hyde Park was painted in the colors of the rainbow, with violets, roses, lilies, and large, lush trees adorning it, making everything seem touched by magic.
“It’s called a picnic for a reason,” Grace called out from where she was helping Iris settle Evie in the pram. “The whole point is to eat on the ground.”
“Speak for yourself. I have standards.” Felix brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his immaculate jacket. “What if my valet discovers I’ve been sitting on grass? He’ll resign in horror.”
“Your valet has seen you crawl home at dawn, covered in significantly worse than grass stains,” Harrison pointed out mildly while setting down the basket Cook had packed with enough food to feed a small army. “I hardly think a picnic will scandalize him.”
Owen watched the familiar banter with growing contentment. This had been Iris’s idea, this gathering of their closest friends to celebrate the changes in their lives. But as he observed the easy camaraderie between people who genuinely cared for each other, he realized how much he’d needed this as well.
For too long, he’d held back from the warmth of friendship because he was convinced that distance equaled safety. But watching Iris laugh at something Grace had whispered and seeing Felix’s genuine delight when Evie grabbed his proffered finger, he understood what he’d been missing.
“She’s grown so much since we last saw her,” Grace said while stroking Evie’s dark hair with gentle fingers. “And so alert. Look how she follows voices.”
“She’s becoming quite the little person,” Iris agreed. Pride was evident in her voice. “Yesterday, she rolled from her back to her side. Owen nearly had apoplexy, thinking she might roll right off the blanket.”
“Sensible concern,” Harrison said while sitting beside his wife. “Helena did that once. Grace screamed so loudly that I thought someone was being murdered.”
“I did not scream,” Grace protested. “I expressed concern in a slightly elevated tone.”
“The servants thought we were under attack.”
Owen smiled at their playful argument, noting how naturally Iris fit into the group. She’d worried that their friends might find their sudden domestic bliss suspicious, but if anything, they seemed delighted by the change.
“Oh!” Grace looked up suddenly, waving at someone in the distance. “Selina! Over here!”
Owen turned to see an elegant woman approaching with a tall, dark-haired man and what appeared to be their baby. He recognized them vaguely from various social functions, though he’d never been formally introduced.
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” the woman called Selina said as they drew near. “Grace mentioned you were having a picnic, and Catherine has been impossibly fussy all morning. I thought the fresh air might help.”
“Of course not,” Harrison said warmly. “Please, join. This is Owen Sencler, Duke of Carridan, and his wife Iris, the Duchess of Carridan,” then he turned to Owen and Iris, “This is Rowan and Selina Blackmore, Duke and Duchess of Aldermere.”
“Duke, Duchess. A pleasure,” Iris offered politely, and Owen bowed.
“The pleasure is ours. And this demanding little creature is Catherine.” She shifted the baby in her arms with the practiced ease of experience. “She has decided that sleep is completely optional today.”
“How old is she?” Iris asked, immediately moving to make room on the blanket.
“Just over five months. Same as your little one, I believe?” Selina settled gratefully, clearly relieved to have somewhere comfortable to sit. “The timing is perfect. They can be cranky together.”
But Evie seemed anything but cranky. She gazed around at the new faces with obvious fascination and made soft sounds that might have been attempts at conversation. When Catherine fussed, Evie turned toward the sound with such intense concentration that the adults laughed.
“She’s trying to figure out what that noise is,” Rowan observed. His voice carried a slight accent that Owen couldn’t quite place. “Catherine, meet your new friend, Evie.”
“Do you think they can see each other at this age?” Felix asked as he settled cross-legged on the blanket, with complete disregard for his expensive trousers. “They seem to be having some sort of conversation.”
“Babies are more aware than people think,” Selina said while rocking her baby gently. “Catherine definitely recognizesfamiliar voices now. And she has very strong opinions about who gets to hold her.”
“Evie’s the same,” Owen said. “She has a completely different cry for when she wants Iris specifically versus when she’s simply hungry or tired.”
The words came out naturally, and he realized with surprise that he’d become quite fluent in baby behavior. When had that happened? When had Evie’s needs and preferences become as familiar to him as his own?
“It’s remarkable how quickly you learn their language,” Rowan spoke up. “I never expected to become an expert in infant facial expressions, but here we are.”
