“I think she’s still upset about having missed the concert,” Harriet replied. She looked over at Daniel. “Did you hear that Sarah missed the musicale?”
“I did,” he confirmed. “Vertigo, was it?”
“I thought it was a head cold,” Frances said.
“Stomach ailment,” Harriet said with certainty. “But it was no matter. Miss Wynter”—she turned toward Daniel—“that’s our governess,” she added, her head bobbing back to her sisters, “was brilliant.”
“She took Sarah’s part,” Frances said.
“I don’t think she wanted to,” Elizabeth added. “Mother had to be quite forceful.”
“Nonsense,” Harriet cut in. “Miss Wynter was heroic from the start. And she did a very good job. She missed one of her entrances, but other than that, she was superb.”
Superb? Daniel allowed himself a mental sigh. There were many adjectives to describe Miss Wynter’s piano skills, but superb was not one of them. And if Harriet thought so . . .
Well, she was going to fit right in when it came time for her to play in the quartet.
“I wonder what she’s doing in the mews?” Harriet said as they stepped out behind the house. “Go fetch her, Frances.”
Frances let out an indignant puff of air. “Why do I have to?”
“Because you do.”
Daniel released Frances’s arm. He wasn’t going to argue with Harriet; he wasn’t sure he could speak quickly enough to win. “I will wait right here, Frances,” he told her.
Frances stomped off, only to return a minute later. Alone.
Daniel frowned. This would not do.
“She said she would be with us in a moment,” Frances informed them.
“Did you tell her that Cousin Daniel is going to join us?” Harriet asked.
“No, I forgot.” She shrugged. “She won’t mind.”
Daniel was not so sure about that. He was fairly certain that Miss Wynter had known he was in the drawing room （hence her rapid flight to the mews）， but he did not think she realized that he intended to accompany them to the park.
It was going to be a lovely outing. Jolly, even.
“What do you suppose is taking her so long?” Elizabeth asked.
“She’s only been a minute,” Harriet replied.
“Well, now, that’s not true. She was in there at least five minutes before we arrived.”
“Ten,” Frances put in.
“Ten?” Daniel echoed. They were making him dizzy.
“Minutes,” Frances explained.
“It wasn’t ten.”
He wasn’t sure who’d spoken that time.
“Well, it wasn’t five.”
Or that time.
“We can settle for eight, but I think it’s inaccurate.”
“Why do you talk so quickly?” Daniel had to ask.
They paused, all three of them, and regarded him with similarly owlish expressions.
“We’re not talking quickly,” Elizabeth said.
Added Harriet: “We always talk this way.”
And then finally Frances informed him, “Everyone else understands us.”
It was remarkable, Daniel thought, how three young girls could reduce him to speechlessness.
“I wonder what’s taking Miss Wynter so long,” Harriet mused.
“I’ll get her this time,” Elizabeth declared, shooting a look at Frances that said she found her to be ineffectual in the extreme.
Frances just shrugged.
But just as Elizabeth reached the entrance to the mews, out stepped the lady in question, looking very much like a governess in her practical dove gray day dress and matching bonnet. She was pulling on her gloves, frowning at what Daniel could only imagine was a hole in the seam.
“This must be Miss Wynter,” he said loudly, before she saw him.
She looked up but quickly masked her alarm.
“I have heard such splendid things about you,” he said in a grand voice, stepping forward to offer her his arm. When she took it—reluctantly, he was sure—he leaned down and murmured, so that only she could hear, “Surprised?”
Chapter Four
She wasn’t surprised.
Why would she be surprised? He had told her he would be here, even when she had said she would not be at home when he called. He had told her he would be there again, even when she’d told him again that she wouldn’t be at home.
Again.
He was the Earl of Winstead. Men of his position did as they pleased. When it came to women, she thought irritably, men below his position did as they pleased.