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“I’d best fetch my hat too,” she said. “And since I doubtless need more direction than Aunt Millward, I will also give careful consideration to my footwear.” She started after Aunt Millward, and although Henry couldn’t be absolutely sure, he thought he heard the older lady chuckle as she exited the room.

Chapter 13

Emily spotted the tips of the trees over the rooftops and shifted a little closer to the carriage window.

“Are we getting close?” she asked.

Sitting across from her, Mr. Buckland nodded. “We’ll pass the Holy Trinity Church in just a few moments. The woods and community grazing land are just beyond that.” He pointed through the window. “There. You can see some of the sheep in the distance.”

A gap appeared between the houses, exposing a vast grassy area dotted with white sheep. Emily’s heart lightened. She’d not been gone from Berkshire long, but the pastoral sight on the outskirts of the city felt a little like a homecoming.

“I would never have imagined that I’d be so excited to see sheep,” she said.

“They are a lot more pleasant to observe from the carriage than from within their field,” Aunt Millward said. “I had not thought this excursion included encounters with farm animals, Henry. Will there be many of them near the pond?”

“I cannot say for certain,” Mr. Buckland said. “The animals are left to roam at will.”

“Hmm.” For the first time since Emily had known her, Aunt Millward appeared uneasy. “If they are as prone to follow one another as I’ve been told, all it will take is one curious sheep and we shall have an entire flock surrounding us the moment we alight from the carriage.”

“They are just as likely to ignore us,” Mr. Buckland said.

Aunt Millward appeared unconvinced.

“I have no experience with these sheep, of course,” Emily said, “but those that wander the fields around Dunsbourne Manor tend to amble off when anyone enters their field.”

They were driving alongside the pasture. A large woodland blocked Emily’s view to the left, but to the right, green grass stretched out in a large expanse.

Cattle and sheep raised their heads to watch as the carriage rolled by, and Aunt Millward’s forehead creased. “The animals seem uncommonly interested in us, Henry.”

“I think it more likely that the sound of the carriage’s wheels has simply drawn their attention,” he said.

Aunt Millward did not reply, but she maintained a watchful eye out of the window. Emily watched too, and before long, a small copse of trees appeared and she caught the shimmer of water beyond. Anticipation hummed through her, and she glanced at Mr. Buckland.

He caught her look and nodded. “This is it.”

The carriage slowed and came to a stop a few yards from the trees. Mr. Buckland threaded his satchel across his shoulder and opened the carriage door. A wave of fresh air entered. Drawing her shawl more securely about her shoulders, Emily breathed deeply. It smelled of sunshine and moisture, green grass and animals.

She waited for Mr. Buckland to exit and then slid to the edge of her seat. His arm appeared in the doorway, and she took his hand. For a fleeting moment, she was swept back to the Tilsons’ ball, to the wonder of the dance they had shared together. And then a goose honked, the flap of its wings sounding overhead, and instead of being in a ballroom, she was standing beside him on the damp grass with two curious sheep eyeing them from beside a nearby shrub.

He released her hand, and she stepped back, making room for him to assist Aunt Millward.

“Two rather bored-looking sheep, Aunt,” he said. “That is the extent of the animal incursion at present.”

The older lady joined Emily and eyed the sheep dubiously.

“I will go with you to see the pond,” she said, “but if we are to be surrounded by overly bold animals, I believe it might be better for me to wait in the carriage whilst you dig.”

“As you wish.” He withdrew a blanket from the carriage and tucked it under one arm before offering his aunt the other. “It’s an easy walk, and you might enjoy being outdoors for a little while.”

They started across the grass toward the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a cow mooed. Aunt Millward stiffened, but Mr. Buckland maintained his even pace, not bothering to even glance the bovine’s way. Emily walked beside them, soaking in the sights and sounds normally associated with the countryside.

It did not take long to reach the handful of scrub oaks that separated the grass from the water. Mr. Buckland guided them around the tallest tree and then paused so that both ladies might take in the view.

“Oh,” Emily said. “It’s lovely!”

The pond was larger than she’d imagined and was bordered by shrubs and trees. The occasional breaks between the bushes were filled by well-worn paths. No doubt the sheep and cattle knew the best routes to the water, but so, too, it seemed, did some of the locals. Not far distant, a gangly youth stood beneath the shade of an ash tree, a fishing rod in his hands and two buckets beside him.

“Very pleasant indeed,” Aunt Millward agreed, her anxiety less obvious now that there were a few branches between her and the livestock.