Aaron chuckled softly. “Judith, you look like a tiger at the Royal Menagerie. Do you mean to scare them off?”
“Of course not,” she replied, but he stopped again.
“Smile. Look at me and smile. I did not think we’d have to practice this,” he said, but his eyes twinkled with amusement, which inspired her to flash him her widest smile.
“There we are, that is much better. You look like…” He blinked, and it was clear he was at a loss for words.
“Please do not say a horse,” she said quickly, eager to ease the tension.
This time, he chuckled. “I would never. I was going to say you look… lovely.”
They stood across from one another, neither able to speak. Her lips parted, and her heart thundered so rapidly that she felt it in her throat. Alas, he suddenly stepped back.
“So, smile like that, and you will surely be approached. Now, it will do you no good to be seen walking with me all afternoon, as people will think we are together. I suggest that you wander down to the water and feed the geese,” he suggested, nodding toward the water.
“Geese? I did not bring food,” she protested, for she hadn’t planned on walking anywhere alone.
Judith looked at Matilda. Should she call her over? For, of course, he was quite right. If they continued to walk together, everyone would think they were courting, and it would defeat the purpose.
Why hadn’t she thought of this? Why hadn’t Oliver? Indeed, this exercise was futile for?—
“Judith?” Aaron said, handing her a small sack. “I brought some. Here. Take it and go down to the geese and feed them. Look at ease and smile serenely.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Who will approach me if they think we are together?”
“I will take care of that. I know a lot of the gentlemen here. I will mingle and make it clear we are not together, and, in a fewminutes, I am sure word will spread and you will be approached. Now, go.”
Judith inhaled the cool air and did as she’d been told. Of course, Aaron had thought of everything. He was always prepared. How silly of her. As she went, she could not help but feel a sadness settle in her bones. She wanted more time alone with him—a thought she couldn’t share with him.
At the water’s edge, she withdrew the small sack of feed and tossed breadcrumbs to the geese and ducks that gathered eagerly at her feet. The serene sounds of the park and the gentle ripples of the water provided a peaceful backdrop, but her mind was elsewhere.
She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze drawn to Aaron, who was surrounded by a group of four gentlemen. He was engaging them in conversation, likely trying to encourage them to approach her. She sighed, feeling a pang of sadness. He was doing his duty, fulfilling his promise to help her find a suitable match. But in doing so, he was distancing himself from her.
She turned back to the animals, her heart heavy. The ducks quacked, and the geese honked, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil. Just then, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
“May I borrow some of your feed?”
Judith looked up, startled. Standing beside her was a tall, dark-haired man with bright blue eyes and a charming smile. He was impeccably dressed, his demeanor confident yet warm. Sheglanced back at Aaron, who was still engrossed in conversation with his friends, then returned her gaze to the newcomer.
“Of course,” she replied, offering him some breadcrumbs.
“Thank you,” he said, taking the feed from her. “I’m Graham Baxter, the Earl of Leeds.”
Judith’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She had heard of Graham Baxter, the heir to one of the wealthiest earldoms in the realm.
He’d been out of the country for some while, but she remembered that years ago, back when she was still a fixture on the marriage mart, he’d been well sought after—though unwilling to commit.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she offered with a smile. “I am Judith?—”
She got no further, for behind her, a bone-chilling shout rent the air. She spun around, and she saw with fright that Matilda was sprinting toward her, one hand on her hat and the other swinging at her side, as though she were running for sport.
Something had happened, something dreadful, Judith knew it in her heart, and as she staggered toward her stepmother, leaving the young man behind, she could not help but feel dread sink its cold claws into her.
CHAPTER 17
“Not at all, I am her guardian until her brother returns—that is our only connection,” Aaron explained to the group of gentlemen who had gathered around him.
It was crucial to make it clear that he and Judith shared no romantic attachment whatsoever. Any hint of such a connection would be detrimental to her chances of finding a suitable match.
