"Thank you," she said. "But do you see how extravagant I am, Stephen? Do you see how I have spent your money today?"

"To make a child happy?" he said, raising her hand to his lips. "I cannot for the life of me think of a better use for it, Cass. I will see you this afternoon?"

"Yes," she said, and she stepped inside the house as he went striding off down the street. A man who was charming and amiable and physically perfect. And very, very attractive.

Ah, yes, it would be very easy indeed to care for him as well as to lust after him. And perhaps he was genuine.

Or perhaps not.

She was going to enjoy this afternoon anyway. She had been extravagant with money this morning. She was going to be extravagant with feelings this afternoon.

She had hoarded feelings for so very long.

She was not even sure there were any left inside her to squander.

She would find out later today.

It amused Stephen later in the afternoon to hand Miss Haytor into his open barouche and watch her scurry to seat herself beside Cassandra rather than take the empty seat opposite. Now Stephen had to sit there with Golding. Miss Haytor, he could tell from her rather flustered manner, was very nervous.

Perhaps, he thought, this was the closest she had come to being courted.

It was a sad thought. But – better late than never.

Golding too seemed even more agitated than he had yesterday as he supervised the stowing of his large, very new picnic basket onto the back of the carriage. If the basket was full of food, it would surely feed an army.

Golding, dressed formally and smartly, was almost tongue-tied as the journey began. Miss Haytor, dressed immaculately in a dark blue walking dress and pelisse, was stiff and silent.

Cassandra, looking ravishing in pale spring green with a straw bonnet, seemed as amused as Stephen felt, though he guessed there was no malice in the smile she exchanged with him – as there was none in his.

The burden of conversation, Stephen decided, was going to be his for the time being, anyway. But making conversation had never been difficult for him. Often it was simply a matter of asking pertinent questions.

"You were once a teacher, Golding?" he asked as his barouche picked up speed. "And you and Miss Haytor once taught together?"

"We did, indeed," Golding said. "Miss Haytor was Miss Young's governess, and I was Master Young's tutor. But his need of me lasted all too short a time, and I was forced to move on. I regretted leaving. Miss Haytor was an excellent teacher. I admired her dedication and her well-educated mind."

"I was no more dedicated than you, Mr. Golding," Miss Haytor said, finding her tongue at last. "I once found you in Sir Henry Young's study at midnight, trying to devise a method of teaching Wesley long division that he would understand. And my own education was far inferior to your own."

"Only in the sort of formal education that attendance at university can provide," he said. "At the time you were far more widely read than I, Miss Haytor. You were able to recommend several books that have since become my favorites. I always remember you when I reread them."

"That is kind of you, I am sure," she said. "But you would have discovered them for yourself eventually, I daresay."

"I doubt that," he said. "With so many books waiting to be read, I often do not know where to start and so do not start at all. I would like to hear what you have been reading in the last few years. Perhaps I will be inspired to try something new again that is not merely concerned with politics."

Stephen met Cassandra's eyes. They did not smile openly at each other.

They might have been caught doing so and might have made the other two self-conscious again. But they smiled anyway. He knew she was smiling though her face was in repose. And he knew he was smiling back.

And even if he misinterpreted her expression, at least she was not wearing her habitual mask this afternoon. She had not been wearing it this morning either. Indeed, this morning he had been unwary enough to feel that he could fall in love with her if he allowed himself to do something so foolish. When Con had drawn his attention to the bakery, it was Cassandra he had seen. He had not even noticed Meg and Lady Carling for a few moments. And when he had walked home with her and the child, he had felt…

Well, never mind. They had been foolish feelings.

Stephen had brought only a coachman with him, and Golding had brought no servants of his own, having had a hackney cab drop him and his basket in Portman Street. When they arrived at Richmond Park after a longish drive, then, the gentlemen carried the basket between them while the ladies walked ahead to choose a decent spot for a picnic.

They found one on a grassy slope some distance into the park beneath some of the ancient oaks for which the park was famous, looking down upon lawns and across at rhododendron bushes with more oaks behind them.

In the distance they could see the Pen Ponds, which were always kept well stocked with fish.

A few other people were out strolling, though not very many, and no one else appeared to be picnicking. No one else was up on their slope. As Stephen had hoped, they were to enjoy a quiet, secluded afternoon.

After the two men had set down the basket, Golding opened it and drew out a large blanket – one explanation for the fact that the basket had not been as heavy as Stephen had expected it would be. Golding shook it out and would have spread it on the grass himself, but Miss Haytor hurried to help him, grasping two corners while he held the others. Together they set it down flat, without a wrinkle.

"It is too early for tea," Golding said. "Shall we go for a walk?"

"But someone may make off with the basket and the blanket while we are gone, Mr. Golding," Miss Haytor pointed out.

"Quite right," he said, frowning. "We will not be able to walk far. We will have to keep them in our sight."

"I am quite content to sit here," Cassandra said, "and bask in the sunshine and breathe in the fresh air and drink in the sight of so much green countryside. Why do you not walk with Mr. Golding, Alice, and Lord Merton and I will stay here."

Miss Haytor looked suspiciously at Stephen. He smiled his best smile at her.

"I will protect Lady Paget from harm, ma'am," he said. "The public setting of the park and the other people strolling here will be effective chaperones for both you and her."

She was still not quite convinced, he could see. But her desire to walk – /alone/ – with Golding was being weighed against caution.

"Allie," Cassandra said, "if we have driven all this way merely to stroll together in a tight circle about the picnic basket, we might as well have stayed at home and eaten in the back garden beneath Mary's clothesline."

Miss Haytor was convinced. She went down the slope with Golding and then took his offered arm as they turned in the direction of the distant ponds.

"I believe," Cassandra said, seating herself on the blanket and removing first her gloves and then her bonnet and setting them down beside her,

"I have been incredibly selfish."

"In sending them off walking while we remain here?" he asked.

"In keeping Alice with me all these years," she said. "She started to look for other employment when I accepted Nigel's marriage offer. She even went to one interview and was impressed with both the children and their parents. But I begged her to come with me into the country, at least for a year. I had never lived in the country and was somewhat apprehensive. She came because I was so insistent, and then she stayed, year after year. I thought only of /my/ needs and told her more times than I can count that I did not know how I would live without her."

"It is basic human need to be needed," he said. "She very obviously loves you. I daresay she was quite content to stay with you."