“I was just helping Miss Henney get on her horse.” Simon cocked his head at her. “She’s never ridden a horse. I was thinking I could guide her mare alongside mine.”
“Benton will assist her from now on.” Reed signaled to the groom, who took the reins from Simon. “You needn’t bother.”
“Of course.” Simon nodded to Elise. “I’ll see you at the picnic then.”
“I’ll see you there,” she said to Simon sweetly, then glared at Reed. But she didn’t have time to retort to him as the groom began to lead her away.
The nerve of that man! Simon was only helping her. Sure, he was getting fresh, at least it was for this time, but Reed didn’t have to dismiss him like he was nothing. But then again, was she surprised? The man treated anyone he didn’t deem his equal with contempt.
Deciding not to let him ruin the one day she didn’t have to worry about dancing, table manners, or suitable dinner conversation subjects, Elise found herself admiring the beautiful countryside. Huntington Park really was breathtaking. Everything was so green and smelled so fresh. The rolling hills seemed to go on forever, and for a moment, she forgot all about her troubles and what brought her here as she just basked in the wonders of Mother Nature. Maybe it was the witch side of her—but she felt so much more connected to it out here where there was no pollution, no cars, no technology.
“We’re here, miss,” Benton the groom announced. “Let me help you down.”
“Thank you.”
Glancing around, she saw everyone making their way to what was probably the picnic spot—a table set up under a giant oak tree.
“You know,” Julianna said as she sidled up next to Elise. “When they said picnic, I was thinking of soggy sandwiches and potato salad. Not this.”
“They certainly do things with flair.”
Elise guessed that the servants had been sent ahead to make sure the elaborate setup was ready. A large table covered in fine linen was heaped with food and drinks, along with a huge floral centerpiece. Three footmen stood on the sides ready to serve guests. They also had blankets spread out around the table, as well as comfy-looking cushions to rest on.
“The food looks good though,” Elise commented.
“I’m just glad to eat food without having hawk-eyes”—she cocked her head at the dowager duchess, who was already seated on one of the blankets with Signore Rossi—“watching every move I make and telling me I’m doing it wrong. Now, let’s get some grub!”
They both grabbed a plate and piled it with food. The kitchen staff really went all out as there was a wide variety, from cold sandwiches to delicate pastries to delicious sweets and cookies.
“Miss Henney, Miss Anderson.” Simon had popped up from behind and positioned himself between them. “If you have yet to secure a spot, I would like it if you would sit with me.”
Julianna made a face, but before either could say anything, he guided them over to an empty blanket which was, thankfully, next to Eleanor, Jeremy, and William. The little boy’s eyes lit up when he saw them approaching.
“Elise! Julianna!” William waved at them enthusiastically. “May I sit with them, please, Mother?”
Eleanor patted him on the head. “Only if there’s space and they don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Julianna said as she sat down and gestured to the empty spot beside her. “Come here, squirt.”
His face scrunched up. “What is a ‘squirt’?”
“It means, a cheeky little boy like you.” She ruffled his hair affectionately.
Since William had taken the spot next to Julianna, Elise had no choice but to sit beside Simon. “Thank you,” she said as Simon helped her get comfortable.
“Of course.” He gave her one of those bright-as-sunshine smiles. “I suppose we foreigners should stick together.”
“Foreigners?”
“My sister and I grew up in the Caribbean,” Simon explained as he sat beside her. “Our father’s business was over there, so we grew up in his estate on a sugar plantation. We’ve only been back two years. Father wanted Beatrice to have a proper coming out and thought it was time for us to return to England.”
“That must have been an interesting childhood,” she remarked.
“It was.” There was a tension in his jaw and his eyes darkened for a moment. “But we had servants and tutors from here and France. Father wanted us to be brought up like a proper English gentleman and lady.”
“And your mother?”
He swallowed audibly. “Died.”
“I’m so sorry.” She placed a hand over his.
“It was a long time ago,” he said.
She decided to change the subject. “So, your parents are English, and they gave you a real English upbringing. Why do you say you’re foreigners?”
“Because, try as we might, we don’t fit in here. Sure, my father’s title and money can open certain doors, but some things remain … unreachable to us.” He turned to her, his blue eyes pinning her. “And they still treat us differently.”
She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for him. “I know what you mean.” And she really did. This place was so different. She had never felt more out of place in her whole life.
The silence between them hung in the air until he spoke. “I’ve heard America is an interesting place as well.”
“Have you been?”
“No, but my father has.” He signaled for the footman to bring them over some wine, then handed a glass to her. “Will you tell me about your home?”
“I—” she faltered then cleared her throat. I could give him some vague details. And so, she spoke a little bit about her home and her family, without giving too much away. Mostly half-truths, stuff that she didn’t have to make up so it didn’t bite her in the ass later. Simon seemed interested in every word she said, even asking her a few questions and asking for her opinion on what she thought
