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Several ladies sat in the parlor, including her mother and Rose. Katrina was no doubt in a lesson or some other activity with the younger children.
“Tricia, darling,” Lady Clementine said, patting the seat beside her. “Do come join us.”
“Of course, Mummy.” Tricia began walking toward her mother when?—
“Good morning, Lady Patricia.”
She turned and looked over her shoulder as Lord Polk entered the parlor.
“Lord Polk,” she said politely with a short curtsy.
Lord Polk walked swiftly toward her. “I was wondering if you might accompany me on a stroll about the grounds.” He looked at Lady Clementine. “If your lovely mother would join us, that is.”
Lady Clementine rose. “I can think of nothing I might like better than a stroll.”
“Perfect,” Lord Polk held out his arm to Tricia.
She took it and left the parlor with Lord Polk, her mother walking behind them.
She felt every eye on her.
Lord Polk was handsome, and he had asked her on a stroll.
She was happy to do it, if only to get her mind off Thomas.
Lady Clementine stayed a few feet behind them so Lord Polk and Tricia could talk.
“It is a beautiful morning,” Tricia said.
“It is,” Polk agreed, “but I fear nothing about this gorgeous landscape is as beautiful as you are.”
Tricia’s cheeks warmed a bit, even though the day was quite brisk. It was nice to be complimented. Even if the compliment wasn’t coming from the man she adored.
“The azaleas are quite splendid this year, don’t you think?” Polk gestured towards the vibrant bushes lining the pathway.
“They are, indeed. The gardeners have outdone themselves.” Tricia had no idea what the gardeners had done. Though she did appreciate the vibrant blooms, and looking at them allowed her to momentarily escape from the conversation.
“Your mother mentioned you have quite a hand in the garden yourself,” Polk continued.
Tricia smiled slightly, more out of amusement than politeness. When did Polk speak to her mother? And why would her mother say Tricia was handy in the garden? Surely, she had raked and hoed vegetables until her fingers were calloused and bleeding during their years of tenancy on the Lybrook estate. But why on earth would Mummy make it sound like she knew an azalea from a dandelion? She wasn’t sure what to say, so she settled on, “I do enjoy the garden, though I cannot claim much credit. My contributions are limited to occasional suggestions and much admiration.”
Polk chuckled. “Humility is a virtue, Lady Patricia. And speaking of virtues, have you read the latest serialized novel in The Strand? It’s quite captivating.”
Tricia couldn’t hold back her chuckle. She’d indeed recently read a serialized story, but it was far from The Strand. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure, my lord.”
“I see,” Polk said. “Perhaps you prefer something a bit more challenging?”
“Perhaps,” Tricia said, trying her best not to burst into a fit of laughter. The Ruby could hardly be called challenging, but Tricia did enjoy a good novel.
As they circled back toward the house, Tricia felt a subtle relief. Lord Polk was perfectly pleasant, but his attempts at engaging her interests had fallen somewhat flat. She was thankful for her mother’s presence, a welcome barrier against any need for deeper engagement.
“Thank you for the walk, my lord,” Tricia said as they neared the terrace. “I trust you will enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thank you, my lady. I indeed hope to,” he replied.
The stroll had been amenable, though Patricia was just as glad it was over. When Polk left her and Lady Clementine at the door, he bowed, removing his hat.
“Tonight is the second ball of the house party,” Lord Polk said. “I do hope you’ll save me a dance, Lady Patricia.”
