There had been a tree house in the ancient lime at Oaklands for generations and in times gone by it had been used by the family for summer dinner parties and even, it was rumoured, for gatherings of a far more licentious nature. Sir Oswald, however, had no time for such folly and the children had been allowed to use the tree house as their own special place. The octagonal building rested between the giant branches of the tree. It had windows on all sides except for the panel incorporating the door and gave excellent views over the park. A narrow flight of steps climbed steeply against the massive tree trunk to provide access and the estate's carpenter had undertaken to keep both the steps and the building in good order for the children, off-setting the minor expense incurred against other, more necessary works and thus avoiding the inevitable claim by Sir Oswald that the tree house was a waste of money and should be dismantled.
Lucasta told no one of her plans for the afternoon and since her mama and sister were too pre-occupied with their plans to walk to the river they did not think to ask, so she collected her reading book, slipped out of the house and ran the few hundred yards to the tree house. The furniture had long since been removed, but Lucasta merely wrapped her cloak about her and made herself comfortable upon the floor. With the early spring sunshine pouring in through the windows the little room was surprisingly warm, and she was soon lost in her novel.
It was some hours later when she heard someone climbing up the steps. She was not alarmed, thinking it must be one of the footmen sent to find her but she could not suppress a little gasp of surprise when Lord Kenington stepped into the room.
'Oh.' He hesitated in the doorway. 'I am sorry, I did not expect anyone to be here.' He gave her a wry smile. 'I remembered the games Ned and I played here and as I was riding past I could not resist coming up for one last look.'
'Then please, stay and look around, if you wish.'
Lucasta closed her book, but she made no move to get up, merely watching him as he shut the door and came into the room.
'If I remember correctly, the last time I was here it was a pirate ship.'
'Yes,' muttered Lucasta. 'And you refused to let Camilla and me come in.'
He turned to look at her, a smile lurking in his grey eyes.
'We were repelling boarders.' She laughed at that, and his smile grew. 'I hope you do not still hold that against me, Miss Symonds? I was only a scrubby schoolboy then: I hope I should not be so ungallant to you now.'
'No, I am sure you would not.'
He dropped down to floor, leaning against the wall some distance away, but the curve of the building put him at an angle, and when he stretched his long legs before him, his shining top boots were almost touching her soft kid slippers. It took a conscious effort from Lucasta not to withdraw from him.
'Is this where you come when you want to be alone, Miss Symonds?'
She nodded.
'No one ever uses it now, but Ned is married and lives in Kent with his own young family, so I hope that when they visit us in future years his children may enjoy this place as much as we did.'
'Yes, I remember whenever I came to stay at Harley it was one of the highlights of my visit, to come here with my cousins.' He laughed. 'We played ball games on the lawns and allowed you to be an honorary boy. You see, I do remember it, Miss Symonds: my apologies for thinking it was your sister.'
She lifted her hand in a small, dismissive gesture, but she was pleased.
'Had you much sport at the river, my lord?'
'No. The fish were not biting and your father's hip made it uncomfortable for him to sit down for too long, so we gave it up soon after lunch and walked the long way back through the woods – why does that make you smile?'
'No reason, sir. You said you were riding – does that mean you do not stay for dinner?'
'Alas, no. My cousins have invited a few special guests for dinner tonight and I must be there. After that, my visit to Harley is at an end, so this will be my last visit to Oaklands.'
'Well,as Mama takes Camilla to London tomorrow you will have no reason to call.' Lucasta's hands flew to her mouth and she looked at him in horror. 'I am sorry, I should not have said that, I was thinking out loud.'
'No matter. Is it really so obvious?'
Her eyes twinkled back at him.
'Well, yes, it is. Besides, Ned was forever telling us that the fishing at Harley is much superior to our own small stretch of river, so I could not think why you should want to spend the day here if it was not to see Camilla.' She observed his wry smile and took pity on him. 'After all, she is stunningly beautiful.'
'A diamond,' he agreed. 'I hope to renew our acquaintance in London. You travel tomorrow, you said?'
'Mama and Camilla only. I shall stay here to look after Papa.'
He raised an eyebrow, but did not comment upon it and a few moments later he jumped to his feet.
'I must get back to Harley and you, I am sure, will want to get on with your book. Good day to you, Miss Symonds. Let us hope it is not another ten years before we meet again.'
With a bow and a smile he was gone. Lucasta listened to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs then she scrambled up and looked out of the window in time to see him trotting off down the drive. She realised with a little jolt of surprise how easy it had been to talk to him. She had not felt the least shy in his company. He was certainly very taken with Camilla, and it occurred to her that if he was serious enough to make her an offer, Camilla could wish for no better husband than Viscount Kennington.
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