“You can cook biscuits?” he repeated back in surprise.
“I don’t know why you sound so shocked.”
“Not many women of your station know how to cook.”
Hannah nodded. “That may be true, but I find cooking to be quite a rewarding experience.”
Martin’s lips curled into a smile. “There you go, surprising me again,” he said.
“I find it is quite enjoyable when you underestimate me.” Hannah reached for the door, opened it, and proceeded to walk down the stairs.
In the kitchen, a woman was standing next to the hearth, stirring the contents of a pot.
“Mrs. Williams,” Hannah greeted.
The plump woman turned around with a bright smile on her face. “Miss Blackmore,” she responded, wiping her hands on the big white apron tied around her waist. “I was wondering when you were going to come down today.”
“I have come to collect the basket for our picnic.”
Mrs. Williams walked over to the counter and retrieved a large basket covered with a white napkin. “I placed freshly baked bread, meats, cheese, and biscuits in the basket for your enjoyment.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Hannah acknowledged before she turned towards Martin. “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Egleton.”
Martin tipped his head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Williams.”
“You don’t remember me,” Mrs. Williams said, “but I remember you. You used to steal the biscuits that were cooling on the tray when you visited the country home.”
“I’m afraid I do not recall that,” Martin replied.
Mrs. Williams laughed. “I know it doesn’t seem possible, but I have been with the Blackmore family for almost sixteen years.”
“That is an impressive feat,” Martin acknowledged.
Mrs. Williams shifted her gaze and smiled at her tenderly. “There is no other place I would rather be,” she declared. “This is home.”
“I feel the same way,” Hannah stated as she walked closer to the cook.
Mrs. Williams extended her the basket. “I do hope you have a pleasant time.”
“I will try,” she said, lowering her voice, “but, unfortunately, Lord Egleton is coming along.”
Martin laughed as she had intended. “I do hope you realize I can hear you,” he remarked good-naturedly.
Hannah accepted the basket and turned around to face him. “Shall we go pick out the perfect spot on the lawn for a picnic?”
“I think that’s a grand idea.” Martin placed his hand out for the basket. “May I carry that for you?”
“You may,” she replied as she held it out towards him.
As he retrieved the basket, their fingers brushed against one another, and her skin quivered at his touch. She resisted the urge to snatch her hand back, but rather calmly released the basket to him, despite her heart pounding in her chest.
It was evident that Martin didn’t have the same reaction, because he turned his attention towards Mrs. Williams. “Thank you for the offering,” he said, holding the basket up.
“You are most welcome,” Mrs. Williams replied.
10
“I think this spot is perfect,” Martin declared as he came to a stop on the lawn. “It is adequately shaded by a tree.”
Hannah glanced up at the tall oak tree, admiring the beauty and majesty of it all. “I must admit you did find an ideal spot for a picnic.”
“Was that an elusive compliment from you?” he joked.
“It was,” she replied, smiling, “but I am tempted to take it back.”
Martin chuckled as he placed the basket down onto the ground. Then he held his hand out to Hannah and asked, “May I have the blanket, please?”
She handed it to him and he unfolded it. After laying it on the ground, he placed the basket in the center of the blanket and sat down.
Hannah gracefully lowered herself down. “It is lovely here,” she said as a light breeze blew through the trees.
“It is,” he replied, keeping his eyes on Hannah. “I’m just now beginning to understand how lovely it truly is.”
The sound of birds chirping in the wind drew his attention and he turned his head towards the noise.
“How I hate that sound,” Hannah murmured.
“What sound?”
Hannah pointed towards the birds in the trees. “The birds warbling,” she replied. “Every morning I awake to the most incessant chatter.”
“I find it odd that you do not enjoy birds’ chirping.”
“Why is that?”
Martin grew solemn, then shared, “Your father once told me that you were a restless babe and the only thing that seemed to soothe you was being by the window, with a gentle breeze and the sound of birds chirping.”
“That is impossible.”
“I assure you it is not,” Martin said. “I remember your father telling me that, because I thought it was odd that he had been the one holding you. My sisters and I were raised by a team of nurses from birth.”
“My parents did employ a night nurse.”
Martin grinned. “Just one?” he teased. “We were raised to be seen, but not heard.”
“That is a sad way to live.”
“It is a realistic way to live,” he said. “Your sisters and you were the ones that were the anomaly amongst the ton, not me.”
Hannah shifted her gaze towards the birds. “Perhaps I have been too hard on the birds that live outside my window.” She smiled. “I have even plotted their little deaths.”
Martin chuckled. “That is terrible.”
“No one would shoot them for me, so I was forced to resort to throwing my pillow at them.”
“How was that received?”
“Not very well,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I have discovered that I have terrible aim.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Bringing her gaze back to meet his, Hannah said, “Some of the memories I have of my parents are fading, and I am scared that I will eventually lose them completely.”
“You won’t,” he assured her.
“How can you be so certain?”
He offered her a tender smile. “Because they will always be a part of you,” he replied. “Furthermore, I do believe the more you share your memories, the stronger they will become.”
“Even the memories I want forgotten?”
“Such as?”
She took a shuddering breath. “I can recall the precise moment the constable informed us of our parents’ accident, and I can see the unwavering pity
