Having expected Ford, she’d been surprised when Harry had come to the door instead. Not that she was sure she wanted to go to Windsor at all. She did want to see the town, really see it, but…
She touched the metal frame of her spectacles. Faith, people would do more than stare. They would laugh at her, she knew it.
“But just look at that thing!” Rowan exclaimed.
Harry definitely heard that. He slowed so they could catch up, a crooked smile on his face. “I’d wager you’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, gesturing toward the dock.
“I certainly haven’t,” Violet agreed.
On the river, Ford and his niece were waving from the deck of a barge so old, she half expected it to sink before her eyes. Flecks of gold on its woodwork glistened, the last vestiges of gilding that must have once graced the elaborately carved boat. Once upon a time, she imagined, it had been a ceremonial vessel for someone very important—if not the king himself.
But now it must be a hundred years old if it were a day.
At least the sails still looked serviceable, if a bit tattered and gray. She waved back, and her brother did, too. Then she stopped and turned him to face her.
“Don’t say anything bad about it in front of them. Please.” She still remembered him asking Hilda for cherry tart, and she never knew what would come out of his mouth next to embarrass her. “Please,” she repeated.
“Bad?” Rowan’s green eyes looked incredulous. “It’s the most wondrous thing I’ve ever seen!” With that, he broke into a run and didn’t stop until he’d crossed the dock and leapt onto the ancient boat.
Violet was glad Harry’s old legs gave her an excuse to approach more slowly, since her fashionable high heels hampered her ability to run. She wasn’t used to wearing them. But at least, with her new spectacles, she was confident she wouldn’t trip over the uneven ground.
A crew waited aboard, three men she recognized as Ford’s coachman and outriders. As she lifted her peach satin skirts, Ford reached a hand to help her up. She smiled and put hers in it. “Good day, my lord.”
He grinned, his free hand gesturing at the blue, cloudless sky. “It is, my lady.” He dropped his voice as she stepped aboard. “You look lovely today, Violet.”
Her own free hand went reflexively to her spectacles. Though her new gowns weren’t ready, she was wearing her fanciest day dress and knew it was pretty. But she also knew she was not.
His fingers squeezed hers before breaking contact. “I hope you’ll enjoy the day.”
She nodded, trying to ignore the strange trembly feeling in her stomach. Or was it closer to the vicinity of her heart? No matter, it was only her nervousness—about Windsor, not about Ford. Ford had already seen her in the spectacles, so there was no reason to be nervous around him.
“I’m surprised you came by river,” she said with all the composure she could summon, “rather than by road.”
“It’s a beautiful day,” he replied, “and Windsor just a pleasant sail down the Thames. I thought the children would enjoy it.”
“They are already.” With whoops of joy, the two of them were chasing around the cabin perched in the barge’s center, jumping over ropes and racing around rigging as though the entire vessel were their playground.
Like Lakefield House, the boxy cabin could have used a coat of paint, but it was obvious the boat had once been elegant and impressive. “Wherever did you find this?” Violet asked.
“It came with the estate. Though a bit the worse for wear, she’s seaworthy, I assure you. Or riverworthy, in any case.”
“She’s magnificent.” Twirling slowly in a circle, Violet noted the rich details. Although spotless, the barge was old to the point of antiquity. Just the thought of riding on such a silly thing made her want to laugh. But in its own way, it was beautiful, too. “Are you going to fix her up?”
“Perhaps. I haven’t thought about it, really.” The boat started down river, and he led her to two chairs on the deck. “Sit with me?“ She did, and he took the other chair. “What do you fancy shopping for today?”
“There’s nothing I want. This is Jewel’s day.” They were a long way from Windsor yet, so she relegated her nerves to the back of her mind and stretched out, savoring the light breeze on her face and the warm sun dancing on her skin. And the company. She’d never thought she’d enjoy a gentleman’s company much, but Ford Chase was changing her mind.
The barge rocked gently as they made their way down the Thames. Father waved from the garden as they passed, and she waved in return, then stiffened.
Father had seen her. That meant other people could see her. Including neighbors.
Her gaze went wistfully to the cabin. “Can we go inside?”
“It’s a sleeping cabin—there’s nothing in there but a bed, so it’s not really suited for the two of us.” He raised a brow, a gleam in his eye, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. “Do you not enjoy the sun?” he asked.
“I worry for my complexion,” she fibbed. Her mother and Rose both worried about their complexions, but Violet had never cared a fig. “I much prefer rain.”
“Rain?” He looked at her as though she were daft, which accurately described how she was feeling at the moment. Then a smile tipped the corners of his mouth, and she knew he had caught her in the lie. “Fascinating. You really prefer rain to sunshine?” he asked, much too politely.
Seeing a man wander the riverbank, she rose and turned her back. “Well, I love rainbows,” she said, digging herself in deeper. “And since rain is needed for rainbows, I do prefer it.”
He grinned up at her. “I can make you a rainbow without rain.”
“Can you?” What an extraordinary notion!
“Absolutely. I will do so tomorrow. In the meantime…” With great exaggeration and a flourish, he gestured
