"Most certainly not," Elizabeth said firmly. "Where is the sport in that?"
"But my dear girl, it is one of our oldest traditions."
Elizabeth fixed him with a sharp stare. "So was painting our bodies blue and going naked into battle, but I think you will find that civilisation has moved on even from that."
Nearly everyone laughed.
"Can't tell you how relieved I am about that," Parks drawled. "Blue is most definitely not my color. And I never could figure out how the Scottish Highland regiments ever went into battle with only their kilts on, and drat all underneath, let alone have to do it starkers."
Everyone laughed again, but Fitzsimmons had turned purple. With what? Anger, embarrassment?
Vevina said, "No, we don't kill anything we don't eat either, and neither myself nor Will would ever ride to hounds in anything other than a drag hunt."
Will had been readying the children's mounts. He looked at Elizabeth proudly. She had really stood up for herself, and was nothing like the vain and frivolous society beauties he had found so dull when he had last been home at Ardmore.
Now there was a woman after his own heart. Bright, intelligent, principled. If he had not been completely in love with Elizabeth after their first meeting, their continuing acquaintance had certainly made him so.
She saw his face light up in a smile as he looked over at her, and for a moment her breath caught in her throat. He looked like such a different person…. So handsome, so debonair…
She put down the bow and quiver, and went over to where he was standing with two long leads in his hands for the boys' ponies. She picked up the third from the ground. "I'll do Evelyn."
He was about to make a demur, but where was the harm in spending a few moments alone with her in the middle of a lawn?
"Thank you. She will love that."
So the three children pranced up and down while they stood together in the sunshine, back to back, turning slowly as the children went round and round. After a time in the scorching sunshine he said, "They've set up the tables for elevenses. Are you sure you wouldn't like to go take some refreshment?"
"No, I'm fine. You?"
"I'm most content."
"So, my brother tells me you have only recently got home from the Continent."
He nodded. "That's right. We had a few more things to take care of there, some people to see before we finally returned home," he said cautiously.
"In Portugal and Spain?"
"And France."
"You had friends there?" she asked in surprise.
"Yes, the Olivier family. Most pleasant people. Old school. We grew up together when they fled the Terror in 1793 and my father gave them refuge. Viv was a tiny infant, but she loved them all. She was heartbroken when they went back, accepted Bonaparte as their ruler. They were an old military family you see. Seven boys, all of them soldiers, like Parks over there. It was their choice and their mistake to go back. Five of the brothers were killed, their father's health all but destroyed by his grief. But they managed to make the best of their circumstances.
"We became friends once more with Vincent and then his brother Andre of the Imperial Guard, and also with the Chevalier du Gerald in Grenoble, a distant relative of Stewart's. He left Stewart and Vevina a vast estate, of which they have been kind enough to give me half."
"That's very generous of them."
He shrugged. "They are that kind of people. Very warm and loving. I hate to think where I would be without them. Dead is the short answer."
She shuddered and pressed her back more closely to his. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to distress you."
He looked over his shoulder at her. "No. I'm the one who should be sorry. Forgive my clumsy manners and blunt way of expressing myself."
"Not at all. I take no issue with the way you address me," she said with a warm smile.
"I am glad. I'm not accustomed to ladies of your class."
"Your class too."
"I suppose. But I don't hold very much with my title, it's humble enough, just plain Sir Wilfred. I am just as happy to be Mr. Joyce. And I try to take people very much as I find them."
"I had noticed with you. You have an interesting array of friends. Mitchell and Bob, and Parks of course. It is a rare talent to have so many good friends from all spheres of life."
"I dare say not many of our class would agree with your assessment, though."
"I don't care if they agree or not," she said with a lift of her chin. "I am not the kind of person who does wrong just because the rest of society threatens to censure me if I do not conform."