Lady Josephine opened her mouth to speak, her eyes bright with questions, when another of the other women released a dramatic sigh.
“Mr. Gardiner is ever so handsome. Do you get to spend much time with him?” Given the young lady’s rosy cheeks, and the way her two friends started giggling, Mr. Gardiner had to be a topic of interest to them.
“Not very much at all. He sends me the sketches, and I paint in the color.” Alice glanced toward Miss Arlen who appeared rather amused. “He is rather busy, I think, with collecting his own subjects to study.”
“Oh, yes. The insects,” the third young lady said, shuddering.
“Do forgive me.” Lady Josephine snapped open her fan and gestured with her free hand to the three women who had followed her about the meadow. “I do not believe you have been properly introduced to my guests. This is Miss Finchley, Lord Addington’s daughter.” The baron’s daughter, all prim and rosy beneath her bonnet, nodded tightly. “Miss Maria Hepsworth and Miss Hannah Hepsworth. Their father is a part of my father’s political party, in the House of Commons.”
The two Hepsworth sisters nodded rather proudly.
“My friends, Miss Sharpe is the governess for my younger sisters and brother, but I am quite comfortable saying she is a lady whose acquaintance I enjoy.” Such a statement, from a duke’s daughter at that, was an unqualified recommendation. And, perhaps, a warning for the others to mind their manners.
Alice did not hold back a smile of gratitude as she spoke. “You are most gracious, Lady Josephine.”
Miss Arlen spoke before the ensuing silence, with the three guests appearing rather stunned, could grow awkward. “Your bonnet is most becoming, Miss Sharpe, and much more practical for the sun than my silly covering.” She touched the insubstantial brim of her hat. “I do keep meaning to re-trim it. Perhaps that is something we ought to do tomorrow, my lady.”
“We are looking for more amusements for ourselves,” Lady Josephine said to Alice, shrugging one shoulder. “But I do enjoy redressing bonnets. We have any number of supplies for it, too. Ribbons and silk flowers aplenty.”
The conversation ebbed and flowed around Alice, with her contributing rarely. Perhaps Lady Josephine had meant it as a kindness to seek Alice out, but the Misses Hepsworths and Miss Finchley suffered no qualms in leaving Alice out of the conversation entirely.
After a time, Miss Arlen spoke directly to Alice, her tone low to avoid notice. “I do apologize, Miss Sharpe. My lady truly wished to speak to you about your work. She is a fine artist, and I think she truly admires such skills in others.”
“It is no matter,” Alice said softly. “If she wishes, Lady Josephine can visit me in the schoolroom. I am certain I will have more flowers and paintings very soon.”
“Mr. Gardiner said many complimentary things about you,” Miss Arlen added. “After dinner, in the drawing room. He is most impressed with you.”
Alice’s cheeks warmed. “With my painting, you mean.”
Miss Arlen’s eyes flashed as she tilted her head to one side. “When he spoke of the little boy you rescued—”
“Rescued?” Alice shook her head, denying the term. “Mr. Gardiner rescued him, if anyone did.”
Lady Josephine had overheard their conversation and leaned in closer, leaving her friends to continue their argument over the best musician among them. “He made it sound as though you were rather essential to the child getting the care he needed.”
Alice’s lips parted, another protest on her tongue—
“Mr. Gardiner! Oh, do come join us.” Miss Finchley trilled her welcome across the meadow.
Alice turned her gaze in that direction and saw him, tall and dark haired, wearing a brown coat and long trousers tucked into dark boots. His arms were full of a large basket, several long nets, and the hat that had apparently fallen off his head. He hesitated where he stood, staring at their gathering beneath the tree.
Lowering her head, Alice hid beneath the brim of her bonnet, silently wishing he would walk on. Yet something in her chest fluttered rather like that green and white butterfly she had caught during their first meeting when she heard Miss Hepsworth hiss, “He is coming.”
While Rupert much preferred to act as though he had not heard the summons of Miss Finchley, his glimpse of another person sitting beneath the tree gave him pause. Though she lowered her head at once, Rupert knew well the shape of her shoulders and the way she turned her head.
Miss Sharpe.
For her, he would cross the meadow.
Curious. Until that moment, Rupert had not realized he knew her mannerisms well enough to identify her from afar, as easily as he might identify a honeybee among wasps in the heather. Perhaps his time spent with her in the nursery the day before had influenced that knowledge.
His eyes sought the children down by the stream, and it took him a moment to identify the curly head of their former patient. But how did Miss Sharpe fare, now that the little boy jumped about happily with his fellows?
Arms still laden with his supplies, and a basket for the gathering of more flowers for Miss Sharpe, Rupert barely avoided a stray cricket ball hurtling through the grass, then twisted about when several boys slightly taller than his elbow whisked by him with cricket bats. Apparently, there was a question as to whether it had gone out of bounds.
"Ladies.” He greeted them with a bow before depositing his things upon the ground. “Might I join you a moment?”
“Only a moment, Mr. Gardiner?” Miss Finchley asked, eyelashes fluttering more rapidly than a butterfly on the wing.
Perhaps this hadn’t been a good idea.
Lady Josephine spoke before he could retract the request. “Of course, sir. I am certain you welcome a moment’s respite from the task my father has set you.” She shared with him a familiar smile—the one she had used since girlhood to set others at ease. Though he was several years her senior, Rupert appreciated her efforts.
All but one lady looked upon him with expressions varying from curious to openly flirtatious.
Miss Sharpe kept her gaze down, ostensibly adjusting her gloves and the sketchbook in her lap.
Had she grown shy? But why?
Rupert tried a casual beginning to their conversation. “How is our patient today, Miss Sharpe? He appears quite merry by the stream.”
Her chin barely lifted, just enough for her gaze to meet his before she glanced over to the stream where nurses watched the younger children play. “I do not think he even remembers the hurt, given how happily he is splashing the others around him.”
“Children are resilient little beasts.” Rupert tilted his head to one side, studying her profile. She had delicate features he could not help but admire, and the frames of her spectacles highlighted the bright blue of her eyes rather nicely.
“Mr. Gardiner,” Miss Hannah said, voice louder than strictly necessary given their proximity. “How much longer do you think your work will take? Will you still be here during the duchess’s summer ball in a week?”
The accursed ball. He had nearly forgotten about that. Forcing a lightness to his tone, Rupert answered with a nod. “I believe I will be here long after the rest of you have left for home. I have cataloged approximately one-third of the area His Grace was most interested in. Of course, things should go somewhat faster now that I have Miss Sharpe’s talent added to my own efforts.”