‘No arguments there.’
‘In any case, I presume you won’t be bringing a dinner guest this week?’
‘No, but you can put Violet’s mind at rest about Miss Webster. As it happens, I did see her this afternoon.’
‘Is that so?’ Lance’s expression was too smug for its own good.
‘Yes. She was having a picnic on the beach.’
‘What a fortunate coincidence.’
‘So I apologised, but that’s all.’
‘That’s what I’ll tell Violet then.’
Arthur watched as Lance mounted his horse and rode away, still wearing a self-satisfied grin. Not that there was anything to smile about, not really. He’d told his brother the truth. He had absolutely no intention of getting married, not ever—although if that was the case then he really shouldn’t be arranging picnics with young, unmarried ladies. All things considered he probably shouldn’t see her again at all—and if she ever found out the truth about his past then he doubted she’d want to see him again either. What self-respecting woman would? But then it was only a picnic, a kind of extended apology, nothing special, just some light conversation over lemon buns...
So why was he already looking forward to it?
Chapter Nine
‘Moat good enough for you?’
Arthur sat back on the sand, awaiting the verdict as Frances tapped her chin thoughtfully.
‘It’s not bad and I must say Georgie’s turrets are excellent. Well done, Georgie.’
‘Not bad?’ Arthur pushed himself to his feet as the little boy grinned. ‘That’s all you can say after I wrench every muscle in my body?’
‘I don’t hear Georgie complaining.’
‘He’s closer to the ground. My back may never recover.’
‘Oh, very well. If it means so much to you, I think it’s an excellent moat. For a first attempt anyway.’
‘Harumph.’ His expression turned decidedly grumpy. ‘Well, since I’m not going to get any credit for my labours, let me look at yours.’
‘No!’ She took a step forward, wrapping her arms around her easel protectively. ‘It’s not finished yet.’
‘So you can give criticism, but you can’t take it?’ He folded his arms. ‘Fair’s fair, Miss Webster.’
She hesitated for another moment and then took a step backwards to reveal the canvas. It was a bit like removing her veil again, she thought nervously, though she’d barely noticed that garment’s absence today. She was actually getting used to not wearing it around Arthur, even if at that moment she would have liked a little protection from the intensity of his gaze. The painting was a seascape in watercolours, but she’d added both him and Georgie to the foreground, the pair of them crouched side by side as they built a chain of sandcastles along the length of the beach. Despite her teasing, their endeavours were really quite impressive. A little boy’s dream, in fact, though looking again at her canvas, she realised that she’d lavished far more attention upon them than on the sea itself.
‘You know I thought you had some talent six years ago.’ Arthur tipped his head to one side, looking speculatively between her and the painting. ‘Now I see I was mistaken.’
‘What do you mean?’ She bristled at once.
‘And I thought I was the sensitive one.’ His lips twitched. ‘If you’ll let me finish, I was about to say that you’ve become an exceptional artist. The way you’ve captured the rainbow in the water is stunning.’
‘Oh...thank you.’ She felt her cheeks flush, as though his words were warming her up from the inside.
‘Of course that’s just the opinion of an inept moat-digger, but this one is duly impressed. Now...’ He settled down on the blanket and stretched his legs out. ‘Is it time for our picnic yet?’
‘Yes.’ She turned away to beckon Georgie and cover her paints, glad of an excuse to hide her expression. ‘I suppose you’ve worked hard enough for one day.’
‘Kind of you to say so. What do we have this time?’
‘These.’ She reached into her basket and pulled out two pieces of shortbread. They were square-shaped and covered with a thick layer of caramel and chocolate. ‘They’re called Apollos.’