"Much more," Vivienne agreed.
"He does not like parties." "Then he must be very tired today."
Petra nodded solemnly. "He is." Vivienne smiled. She lifted her hands slowly away from the stone. The bee sat for another moment, drinking, and then, with a small, clean movement, it lifted itself into the air. It hovered for a heartbeat above Petra's head as though thanking her, and then it was gone into the roses. Petra watched it go with her mouth a little open. "Now you must tell the other bees," Vivienne said without thinking. "Tell them that you were kind to their sister."
"Do bees remember?" Petra's eyes grew even larger. "Truly. My father told me so." Petra nodded once as if she were making a serious promise. Then she looked past Vivienne and her small face changed. It did not close exactly.
It simply became more careful. Vivienne turned. The Duke of Ashenford was standing at the top of the rose walk, watching them. She had not heard him come. He must have moved very quietly, or she must have been very absorbed.
She rose to her feet at once, brushing her skirts, and made her curtsy. It was neither grand nor small. It was correct. "Your grace," she said. He inclined his head. His eyes moved from her to Petra, and something in his face eased just a little. "Petra," he said. "Uncle." Petra's voice was very small. "I was helping a bee."
"I see." "Miss Vivienne helped me. She knows about bees."
"Does she?" He looked at Vivienne again. His eyes were dark gray, quieter than she had expected. He did not smile. He did not frown. He simply looked at her as though he were reading a page he had not seen before.
"Forgive me, your grace," Vivienne said. "I did not mean to keep her from you. You have not kept her from me." There was a small silence. Vivienne became aware of the sound of the harp again, drifting from beyond the hedge, and of the way the sun struck the top of the Duke's dark hair. He smelled faintly of clean linen and something like cedar.
He did not seem in any hurry to move. "You are Miss Ashcombe," he said. She blinked. "Yes, your grace." "You came with Lady Maravel." "My aunt?" "Yes." He nodded once as though this confirmed a small fact he had wanted confirmed. He said nothing else.
Petra slipped her small hand into Vivienne's quite naturally, as though she had been doing it all her life. Vivienne felt the warm little fingers curl around her own. The Duke saw it. Vivienne watched him see it. She waited for him to call the child back to his side.
He did not. He only bent slowly and offered Petra his other hand. "Come," he said. "Your grandmother is asking for you." Petra did not move. She looked up at Vivienne.