‘Most earnestly. Ah, you are astonished. You are not acquainted with my family.’
‘But your engagement to my brother! She could not wish to see that broken!’
‘Why not?’
‘A solemn promise—the scandal!’
Barbara burst out laughing. ‘Oh, you’re enchanting when you’re shocked! An outraged goddess, no less! But you must lea
rn to know my family better. We don’t care for scandal.’
‘Then why do you forgo your picnic?’ demanded Judith.
‘I don’t know. To spite Gussie—to please Charles! Both, perhaps.’
This answer was not encouraging. Judith was silent for a moment. She stole a glance at Barbara’s face, and of impulse said: ‘Do you love him?’ The words were no sooner uttered than regretted. Such a question was an impertinence; she was not on terms of sufficient intimacy with Barbara to allow of its having been asked.
Flushing, she awaited the snub she felt herself to have earned. But Barbara replied merely: ‘Yes.’
‘I should not have asked you,’ Judith apologised.
‘It’s of no consequence. I daresay you wish that Charles had never met me. I should, in your place. I’m horrid, you know. I told him so, but he wouldn’t listen to me. I never loved anyone before, I think.’
This remark accorded so ill with her reputation that Judith looked rather taken aback.
Barbara gave a gurgle of irrepressible amusement. ‘Are you recalling my flirtations? They don’t signify, you know. I flirt to amuse myself, but the truth is that I never fancied myself in love with anyone but Charles.’
‘I beg your pardon, but to fancy yourself in love could surely be the only justification for flirting!’
‘Oh, stuff!’ Barbara said. ‘Flirtation is delightful; being in love, quite disagreeable.’
‘I never found it so!’
‘Truly?’
Judith considered for a moment. ‘No. At least—yes, I suppose sometimes it can be disagreeable. There is a certain pain—for foolish causes.’
‘Ah, you are not so stupid after all! I hate pain. Yes, and I hate to submit, as I am doing now, over this tiresome picnic!’
‘That I understand perfectly!’ Judith said. ‘But you do not submit to Charles; he made no such demand! Your submission is to your own judgment.’
‘Oh no! I don’t go because Charles does not wish it. How tame! Don’t talk of it! It makes me cross! I want to go. I am bored to death!’
‘Well, why should you not?’ Judith said, as an idea presented itself to her. ‘A party of pleasure—there could be no objection! If you will accept of my company, I will go with you.’
‘Go with me?’ said Barbara. ‘In Lavisse’s place?’
‘No such thing! You may ride with the Count; I shall drive with my sister, Lady Taverner. I am persuaded she would delight in the expedition. I daresay my brother will join us as well.’
The green eyes looked blankly for a moment, then grew vivid with laughter. ‘Thus turning a tête-à-tête into the most sedate of family parties! Oh, I must do it, if only for the fun of seeing Etienne’s dismay!’
‘Would you not care for it?’ said Judith, a little dashed.
‘Of all things!’ Barbara sprang up. ‘It’s for tomorrow. We start early, and lunch at this Château Etienne talks of. It will be charming! Thank you a thousand times!’
Nine
The weather remaining fine, and the Taverners declaring themselves to be very ready to join the picnic, the whole party assembled in the Rue Ducale the next morning. As Lady Taverner’s situation made riding ineligible for her, Judith, who would have preferred to have gone on horseback, was obliged to drive with her in an open barouche. Sir Peregrine bestrode a showy chestnut, and Barbara, as usual, rode the Count’s Coup de Grâce.