“I completely understand,” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of expecting you to stand just for me while in such delicate condition. And thank you very kindly. I am humbled for your invitation to join you for your picnic.”
Mrs. Smith’s smile widened, and she patted the blanket on which she was sitting.
“Come, dear,” she said. “Do join me. We can begin eating immediately, if everyone is agreeable.”
Mr. Smith walked over and kissed the top of his wife’s head as he sat down beside her.
“I think we can all agree to that, darling,” he said.
Martha smiled at the couple as she waited for Henry and Lord Billington to take their spots on the blanket. She sat last, noticing that the viscount was looking at her. She glanced at him, and he gave her a warm smile. It was Mr. Smith who spoke, however, rather than the viscount.
“I do hope you like the picnic spot,” he said. “I thought we’d all be much more comfortable in the shade of this lovely tree.”
Martha smiled sweetly again and nodded eagerly.
“Oh, my, yes,” she said. “It’s such a beautiful spot. And the breeze coming off the water over there is just wonderful.”
Mrs. Smith’s eyes lit up again, and she nodded eagerly.
“Isn’t it just?” she asked. “Neil picked out this spot. I dare say there is no finer spot in this whole park.”
Martha glanced at Mr. Smith, who was pulling his gaze away from the viscount. Lord Billington seemed fixated on the food he was holding, and Martha wondered if he had been sharing a secret look with Mr. Smith. Or, perhaps, watching her from the corner of his eye.
Mr. Smith leaned in next to his wife’s face, kissing her temple.
“You forgot to mention how I already know that this is your favourite spot out here,” he said, winking playfully at her.
Mrs. Smith giggled and shrugged.
“You still chose the spot,” she said. “And my favourite spot or not, you could have chosen any other, and I would have been content.”
Henry chimed in, grinning up at both his parents.
“Well, I’m glad that Father chose this one,” he said, glancing bashfully at Martha. “It’s my favourite, too. There is nothing like the breeze that comes off that water.”
Martha’s cheeks burned again, and she had to hide another smile. Everyone else seemed to notice that he was working hard to impress her, and all four of the adults shared knowing smiles.
“Tell me again, Albert, which of you is escorting Miss Elwood today?” Mr. Smith asked the viscount, keeping his voice so low that Martha had to strain to hear it.
Lord Billington snorted, washing down a bit of food that tried to get lodged as he laughed with some wine.
Instinctively, Martha gave the boy a warm smile. Sure enough, he had heard his father’s teasing question, and his ears were turning red.
“Gentlemen are supposed to be polite and accommodating to ladies,” he said. “That’s what I was doing.”
Martha reached out and patted his hand and nodded, giving Mr. Smith a playfully admonishing look.
“He’s absolutely right,” she said. “And he’s doing such a wonderful job of it. You have quite a wonderful boy here, Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
The child was back to beaming again, while his parents shared another look. Then, they looked at him once more, the pride and love clear on their faces. Martha had never witnessed any parents with their children so up close, aside from herself and her cousin. She felt warm seeing how much the Smith family clearly cared for one another.
Lord Billington topped off his wine, offering to do the same for Martha. She nodded, holding up her glass while he poured. When he was done, he turned to her and smiled. Martha wondered if her heart would ever stop skipping every time he gave her that warm grin of his, or locked his pale blue eyes with her own.
“They have some wonderful performers along the main paths of the park,” he said. “Do you have a favourite type of performer?”
Martha thought for a moment, delighted that he seemed to want to know more about her.
“I suppose it depends on which strikes my fancy,” she said. “But I do enjoy mimes, singers and painters.”
