Page 37

Before Richard could voice his disappointment, a familiar voice resonated from the doorway, low and husky. “I could take him.”

Jane’s breath caught, her hands stilling over her coffee cup. She had not noticed Barclay’s entry, but there he stood, framed in the doorway, dressed in his customary black coat and buckskins. His posture was confident, his expression calm, and Tatiana stood beside him, her small hand clasped in his.

Richard’s eyes lit up with hope. “Do you know where it is?”

“Of course. I have studied the plans for Saunton Park many times over the years. It was the project that made Tsar’s reputation.”

The earl nodded appreciatively. “Then I would be grateful if you would accompany my boy to the grotto. Jane, would you like to join them? Tsar outdid himself when he designed it, and it is especially lovely in the summer.”

Jane could not help herself—she beamed. “I would be delighted to escort Ethan there.” And his uncle! The thought of spending time with Barclay in such a secluded, beautiful spot sent a thrill through her.

Barclay approached, his long stride unhurried as he took a seat nearby while Tatiana and Ethan chattered at the chessboard. He settled into the chair with ease, his dark eyes resting on Jane. “Please, Jane. Take your time.” He gestured to the cup in her hand, his gaze warm and steady as he studied her with undisguised interest.

Jane returned his look with a shy smile, her cheeks tinged with color. She noted the earl excusing himself with a nod, leaving the four of them alone. Spending time with Barclay was precisely what she wanted to do today. Had he made up his mind about the possibility of a courtship? His manner seemed more than amenable to her joining him. Hope flared within her chest, and she quickly turned her attention back to her coffee, sipping hurriedly.

The last thing she wanted was for any of the other guests to stumble upon them and insist on joining their party to the grotto. She could easily imagine Mr. Dunsford or Mrs. Gordon attaching themselves to the excursion, and she would not allow that if she could help it. Clinking her cup down on the tray with a bit more force than she intended, she stood briskly. “Shall we?”

Ethan grinned up at her as she took his hand, his small fingers curling around hers with the trust only children could muster. She led him toward the entrance hall, her stride purposeful, and glanced back over her shoulder to see Barclay following behind with Tatiana, the girl chattering happily as she skipped alongside him. A spark of happiness bloomed in Jane’s heart—time alone with people she truly liked, away from the pressures of the house party.

Ethan chattered beside her, his small voice animated as he spoke of the grotto, of what he imagined it might look like, and of the tales he had heard from Daisy. Jane responded with appropriate nods and smiles, but her heart was light, and her mind was elsewhere—on the gentleman trailing just behind her.

They exited the manor, stepping out onto the gravel path that wound through the gardens. Manicured hedges flanked their walk, the scent of roses and freshly cut grass heavy in the summer air. Jane kept her pace brisk, eager to reach the shelter of the trees where prying eyes would be left behind.

“Jane, I cannot keep up with you!” Ethan complained suddenly, his little legs working double-time to match her stride. Jane stopped abruptly, turning to look down at him. His cheeks were flushed, and he panted slightly, his small chest rising and falling. “You are or-ful-lee eager to see the gra-ta!” he exclaimed, his brow furrowing with both curiosity and exhaustion.

Jane paused, blinking in surprise before glancing back at Barclay and Tatiana, who had stopped a few paces behind. She had not realized she had been moving so quickly. Her gaze swept the garden path, noting with satisfaction that they were well away from the manor now. The hedges had grown thicker, and the path had narrowed, winding toward the distant tree line. There should be no danger of Mr. Dunsford or Mrs. Gordon intruding on their privacy.

Barclay’s eyes sparkled with humor as he regarded her. “Perhaps Jane is simply eager to spend time with you,” he suggested, his voice rich with amusement.

Jane bit her lip, blushing as she accepted that Barclay was not fooled. He must have seen through her efforts to escape the other guests. But then she brightened, realizing that he must have had similar intentions if he knew what she was up to.

“Have you been to the grotto, Jane?” Tatiana asked, her eyes sparkling with unrestrained enthusiasm. Jane noted the child’s silver-blonde hair glimmering in the sunlight, bare to the elements. A ripple of surprise ran through her as she lifted a hand to her own head, realizing she had left the manor without her bonnet. Her cheeks flushed at the breach of propriety, but she could not find it within herself to regret it. In her eagerness to spend time with Barclay, she had forgotten entirely.

Barclay’s lips twitched as if he fought a smile, his gaze drifting to her uncovered hair. He, too, was bareheaded, his dark hair catching the sunlight in streaks of copper as they walked. “It seems we are all a bit unprepared for this outing,” he remarked with a grin.

“I have not,” Jane replied, returning Tatiana’s eager gaze.

“Do you know anything about the grotto? About what is there?” Barclay asked, his tone unusually light-hearted. He looked nothing like the somber widower who had arrived only days ago. His shoulders were relaxed, his expression open, and Jane found herself captivated by this change in him.

She shook her head. “It is the company that has me engrossed,” she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Barclay’s expression softened. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, fleeting but warm. “It is a rather unusual folly. From all accounts, Tsar did magnificent work, and I am intrigued to see it for the first time.”

“What is it, exactly?” she asked, tilting her head with curiosity.

He only shrugged, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his linen shirt.

Remember to breathe, Jane! she chided herself silently, forcing her lingering gaze back to the path.

“You will all have to see it for yourselves,” Barclay said, his tone carrying a note of teasing. “I shall not ruin the surprise.”

* * *

Barclay was pleased with the current turn of events. He had desired time with Jane far from curious eyes, and here he was, entering the woods with only Tatiana and his nephew to witness their interlude. Lifting Ethan onto his shoulders, Barclay was well aware of what had enticed her to hurry so. He shared her enthusiasm to spend time together and anticipated the delight of both Jane and the children when they reached their destination.

Herding their little party along a path winding through the trees, Barclay led the way. The path, well-maintained and clear of obstacles, allowed for easy passage, and there was no danger of Ethan colliding with branches despite his exaggerated height perched on Barclay’s shoulders. The boy giggled with each step, his small hands clutching Barclay’s head for balance as they ambled along.

The sound of birdcalls echoed through the canopy, a melodic accompaniment to the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by the breeze. Barclay felt oddly at peace, the quiet serenity of the woods soothing his mind. When they reached a fork in the path, he veered left without hesitation. The woods grew cooler, the thick branches overhead weaving a protective canopy that shielded them from the midday sun. He noted with approval the relief on Jane’s face as the harsh rays were replaced with soft, dappled light. Her cheeks had been flushed from the heat, but now the color seemed to settle, blending prettily with her complexion. Tatiana, too, seemed relaxed, her curls bobbing as she chattered happily at Jane’s side.