Definitely Not Mr. Darcy

It was as if she could dive into his eyes and float. She flashed him a smile. How was it he always knew what to say and do to make her feel like—

wel —a hundred thousand dol ars?

She wanted to tel him about the laudanum, but that would bring up the impropriety of her having been with Henry unchaperoned. Hoping he’d forget about his toothache so they could get on with this date already, she decided to just spike Sebastian’s lemonade with the stuff and be done with it. This proved easy enough to do. Sebastian had closed his eyes to sunbathe and Mrs. Crescent was deep into her book.

Chloe turned her back to the cameras. The size of the “drops” she was supposed to add to the lemonade, however, was clearly open to interpretation. She slipped two rather smal ish ones into his drink, not wanting to give him too much. Then she read a Cowper poem to him aloud, the verse punctuated by gunshots, until he finished his lemonade.

Plucking a blade of grass to use as a bookmark, she asked him, “What did you think of that poem?”

He rubbed his jaw, contemplating his response. “I must confess. I was paying more attention to you than to the poem. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, and I guess my mind started wandering.”

Chloe looked at Mrs. Crescent, who winked and stuffed a Bath bun into her mouth. Off in the distance, she saw Henry walk out of the lab, mount his horse, and gal op off toward Dartworth. A cool breeze fluttered the corners of the picnic blanket.

Chloe picked up a sketchbook and charcoal sticks. She wanted to sketch Sebastian—his tousled black hair, his dark eyes and chin with that perfect little cleft in the middle. But a lady would never be so bold. She worked on a beech tree in the distance instead.

“Mr. Wrightman,” Mrs. Crescent said as she handed Sebastian a second sketchbook. “I’d like to see you do a portrait of Miss Parker. I know one of your pastimes is sketching.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Sebastian sat up, placed the sketchbook down in his lap, took a sidelong glance at Chloe, and immediately put his hand on his jaw. “Ugh. This tooth is kil ing me.” He rubbed his jaw again. “And these cloves aren’t helping.” He tossed them over his shoulder.

Chloe hoped the laudanum would kick in soon.

Mrs. Crescent took a sandwich from the basket and looked up at the darkening sky.

BAM! BAM! Two shots in a row got Sebastian’s attention, and he put down his blank sketchbook to stand and make sure everything was al right in Graceland. And of course it was.

“I truly don’t know how you tolerate her, Miss Parker.” He sat back down. “Is she always like this?”

She smiled, because a lady would never articulate what was swirling around in her brain after a comment like that. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from saying exactly what she thought of her competitor.

He began rubbing his jaw again.

Chloe closed her sketchbook. “Mr. Wrightman, I do believe I’l go for a turn around the hil ,” she said.

“May I escort you?” He stood and straightened his cravat.

“Please do,” Chloe said. She disappeared behind a fluted column and stepped into a grassy patch that was covered with orange and red poppies.

BAM! Another gunshot rang out.

The cameraman fol owed them, but Mrs. Crescent started talking to the camera, apparently with the goal of furthering Chloe’s cause of getting Sebastian alone. The cameraman stayed with the chaperone for quite a while.

A ring-necked pheasant landed on a rock in front of them. Chloe stopped to watch it.

“What a beauty,” Sebastian said as he eyed the bird.

A wave of warmth came over her.

“I can’t wait until hunting season!” What? He pretended to hold a gun and shot at the bird.

The pheasant flew away.

“Excuse me?” Chloe’s hands shook, along with, for a moment, her resolution. She thought he was an ornithologist!

“I’m kidding, real y. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

It was, no doubt, the laudanum, and that was, without a doubt, al Chloe’s fault.

When they reached the grotto, she looked back toward the Grecian temple, but she couldn’t real y see it that wel . It was fuzzy. She did need glasses! But it couldn’t have been that far away. She wasn’t al owed to be out of Mrs. Crescent’s line of sight, although she was the most forgiving of chaperones when it came to anything to do with Sebastian. The breeze felt cooler now, and almost damp.

“Let’s give the cameraman the slip,” Sebastian said as he took her hand and led her into a thicket of trees, then through an opening in a huge hol ow oak tree. He jumped down a giant hole and landed just under the tree roots. “Fol ow me down the rabbit hole, here.” He held out his arms.

“That’s not a rabbit hole,” Chloe said as she peered down at him.

He laughed. “Of course it isn’t. It’s a secret entryway to the grotto. Come on.” He held his arms out and she slid down into them. The red poppies she had picked scattered at their feet.

For a moment they stood there, pressed up against each other in the grotto, listening to the water from the reflecting pond lap against the rocks.

He slid the bonnet off her head and his hand traced her spine, then moved down to her thighs. His touch sent tingles up and down her.