Page 37

A n avenue of trees lined the drive to Munro House, casting long shadows toward the carriage as Verity approached the Howell estate.

The wheels rumbled across the pebbled surface, turned a corner, and slowed to a stop outside the vast home of the viscount and his wife.

Soaring marble columns stretched the full height of the triple-storied building.

Statues weathered by centuries of wind and rain stood atop these columns, gazing sightlessly across the expansive fields that surrounded the great house.

The butler descended the steps sedately, waiting for Verity to be helped out of the Howell carriage by the footman. “Miss Lockhart, I presume,” he said once she had shaken the creases from her skirts.

“Yes,” answered Verity. “I am she.”

“You are expected. Please follow me.”

He led her along a paved path that rounded the house and diverged onto a well-trimmed grassy route up and over a low rise to where the lake sparkled in the afternoon light.

In the near distance, Verity could make out two easels facing the water.

A table had also been carried out and supplied with a jug of something cold, as well as a variety of sandwiches and small cakes.

Three chairs stood empty, a footman behind them waiting to serve as needed.

At the edge of the lake, Dr. Arthur Westbridge kneeled low to the ground, his attention focused in front of him. Miss Jillian Kinsey stood beside him, her cheerful, yellow dress blowing lightly in the soft breeze, her arms gesturing excitedly.

Verity and the butler approached unnoticed by all except the footman, who stepped forward to offer Verity a chair. She refused the seat, instead placing her sketching portfolio and small case of watercolor paints upon it before following the butler farther down the slope.

As they came up behind the two figures, the butler cleared his throat loudly. Both Dr. Westbridge and Miss Kinsey turned at the sound.

“Ah, Branson, I see you have brought me dear Miss Lockhart!” Miss Kinsey began before poor Branson could do his own announcement.

“Indeed, ma’am,” he said stiffly. “Will there be anything else?”

“Yes, could you ask someone to bring me my shawl? I know you suggested it to me when we left the house, but I expected to be walking about much more and now the breeze has come up. I am not truly cold, but I feel I might become so if I am to only stand and observe as I have been doing. I see Miss Lockhart has been very clever and practical and brought hers. Such a lovely color too.” She beamed at Verity.

“It really suits your eyes. I never noticed just how clear and startlingly blue they were. Will you come and see what Dr. Westbridge has found? I’m sure you will know at once what it is, so I shall not spoil the surprise by telling you.

” She grabbed Verity by the hand and tugged her joyfully toward the lake.

Verity looked helplessly over her shoulder at Branson, whose unmoving features revealed nothing of his opinion, though Verity could imagine well enough. He turned smartly and retraced his steps to the house, no doubt grateful that he could do so.

Meanwhile, Verity and Miss Kinsey had reached the water’s edge.

“Good afternoon, Miss Lockhart,” said the doctor. “I was so pleased to receive your note saying you were able to join us after all.” A brightness in his eyes underscored the truth of his words.

Verity was flattered. Dr. Westbridge had said he would not come if she did not.

But joining her there meant suffering through hours of Miss Kinsey’s special brand of liveliness.

He must have been very keen indeed to see Verity if he was to endure the company of both ladies.

Or he might simply be grateful that a companion for Verity allowed him to visit Munro House and its healthy supply of winged and crawling creatures.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Westbridge,” she replied warmly to encourage him if he were, indeed, there for her. “I believe you have found something noteworthy. May I see?”

Dr. Westbridge gently parted the leaves of the wildflowers at his feet and smiled up at her. Below were two gem-green beetles, one larger and more bulbous, the other more compact. The smaller one hugged the larger from behind in a pose Verity recognized but would not name.

“They’re mating!” Miss Kinsey declared with delight, making Verity blush.

Like Miss Kinsey, she was all too familiar with the countryside and the animals who went about their various types of business.

But she would never, never speak of it in such a gauche way.

Especially not if a gentleman were present to judge her for it.

“Tansy beetles, I believe,” she remarked instead. “I wonder if there are eggs or larvae hereabouts?”

“I was about to do a search,” remarked Dr. Westbridge. “Perhaps, if we all look together, we will have greater luck finding any.”

“I shall rather make a daisy chain for Miss Lockhart to wear.” Miss Kinsey proceeded to gather said daisies from a patch nearby. The activity keeping her thus occupied, she was remarkably quiet, humming a tune instead of producing effusive speech.

In the ensuing almost-silence, Verity was able to enjoy the subtle sounds of the meadow.

An invisible frog croaked a steady rhythm, while several buzzing things, well, buzzed.

It was very peaceful. Verity stood for a moment, her face turned to the sun, drinking in the sensations of warm skin, scented plants, and the delicate song of nature.

“Have you spotted something?” asked Dr. Westbridge when she remained in this pose. “A butterfly? A dragonfly? A wasp?”

Her tranquil trance broken, Verity dropped her gaze shyly to the ground. “No, I was momentarily captivated by the serenity of this place. It is so different to the mood of the city with its busy streets, its noise, and relentless activity. Here I feel I can breathe more deeply.”

“Why, Miss Lockhart,” cried Miss Kinsey, “I couldn’t have said it better myself!

That is why I love to be outdoors. It reminds me of home, where I could run freely with my brothers and not fear getting mud on my skirts because no one would mind.

Ellena—that is to say, Lady Howell—and I would often plait daisy crowns for each other.

But she was learning to be a lady, and life here has not been such an adjustment for her.

I, on the other hand, wish to kick off my shoes and scarper about barefoot.

I hope I do not shock you!” She laughed gaily, the thought of shocking anyone clearly no real concern.

“Um,” said Verity, wondering how frank to be in the presence of Dr. Westbridge.

“No, I am not shocked. It may be that I have needed to dispose of shoes on occasion to capture a specimen I wished to study.” She felt the heat rise in her cheeks.

It was better this way. If Dr. Westbridge was the right man for her, he would not now exclaim against her.

Was he not himself currently on his knees, scouring the underside of leaves for the same reason?

It was Miss Kinsey, unsurprisingly, who was the first to respond. “My, Dr. Westbridge, do you hear? The three of us are quite the set! Which of us would not rather be here, amongst the wild things, than cooped up in a drawing room making tiresome conversation over fine china?”

“Actually, Miss Kinsey,” said the doctor, grunting slightly as he got up and dusted off his trousers, “while entomology is a fine hobby, my true passion lies in service. That is why I chose to become a physician. To be honest, I spend most of my free hours volunteering at the Royal Hospital for soldiers who are too old or incapacitated to serve their country any longer. There is another just like it in London, near Chelsea. But ours accommodates the retired men from the northern counties. Lord Howell donates generously toward the running of it, while I offer my skill and time instead.”

“That is a very noble gift in and of itself,” Verity replied. “And it does not surprise me in the slightest. When you took pity on me at the Macraes’ ball, I could tell you were a man who thought of the wellbeing of others.”

“Thank you for your kind words, Miss Lockhart.” Dr. Westbridge shrugged. “However, I did what any gentleman of good character should have done.”

Verity could not decide if the doctor was merely modest, or whether his actions at the ball had truly meant nothing.

Likely, he would have done the same for any other young woman in need.

He was that sort of gentleman. But did he feel something a little more than courtesy and the fascination of a shared interest toward her?

She really could not tell. It was most frustrating!

Fortunately, she did not have to wonder long, for Miss Kinsey thought much the same and was not afraid to speak her mind.

“Oh, pooh, Dr. Westbridge! I did not take you for a man who withheld the truth. You and Miss Lockhart made a fine match at the ball, as you do here, among the insects that intrigue you both. I am surprised you have not called on her before now to express these very thoughts. You would not want another to snatch her away before your very eyes, would you? You are so well suited, it would be a terrible waste.”

Dr. Westbridge, to his credit, neither blushed nor expressed the horror he must have felt to be addressed in this fashion.

Instead, he calmly replied, “There were a great number of gentlemen at the ball of whom the same could be said. Mr. Cole, to name one, would qualify just as well as a suitor. I do not claim to be a better match than any of them. And if I were to have such hopes, my nature is not to rush these matters.”