"I told you so." Meredith wrinkled her brow. "Papa says beauty is not everything in a woman, though. He says there are other, more important things. He says a virtuous woman has a price beyond rubies. Is that not a pretty phrase? Papa writes very well, you know."

"I do not want to disillusion you," Augusta muttered, "but your papa did not exactly invent that phrase himself."

Meredith shrugged without apparent concern. "He could have, if he had wished to do so. Papa is very smart. He used to play the most complicated word games you have ever seen."

"Really?"

Meredith began to show some real enthusiasm at last as she warmed to her favorite topic, her papa. "When I was little I saw him working on one in the library one day and asked him what he was doing. He said he was solving a very important puzzle."

Augusta tipped her head, curious. "What was the name of the game?"

Meredith frowned. "I do not recall. It was a long time ago. I was just a child. I remember it had something to do with a spider's web."

Augusta stared down at the top of Meredith's bonnet. "A spider's web? Are you quite certain?"

"I believe so. Why?" Meredith lifted her head to peer up at her from beneath the brim of the bonnet. "Do you know the game?"

"No." Augusta shook her head slowly. "But my brother once gave me a poem named 'The Spider's Web. I have always found the poem very strange. I never really understood it. In fact, I never even knew my brother wrote poetry until he gave that particular verse to me."

There was no need to mention the fact that the paper on which the poem had been written had been indelibly stained with her brother's blood and that the verse itself was unpleasant.

But Meredith was off on a new tangent. "You have a brother?"

"Yes. But he died two years ago."

"Oh. I am very sorry. I expect he is in heaven like my mother."

Augusta smiled wistfully. "That depends on whether the lord allows Northumberland Ballingers into heaven. Now, if Richard had been a Hampshire Ballinger, I am certain there would have been no question. But with a Northumberland Ballinger, well, it is open to speculation."

Meredith's small jaw dropped. "You do not believe your brother is in heaven?"

"Of course he is. I am merely teasing. Never mind me, Meredith. I have a very inappropriate sense of humor. Just ask anyone. Come along, now, I am quite famished and I see a perfect spot for lunch."

Meredith eyed the intended location, a grassy bank above a small stream, very warily. "Aunt Clarissa said I must be careful not to get my dress dirty. She says true ladies never get muddy."

"Nonsense. I used to get muddy all the time when I was your age. Still do, on occasion. In any event, I'll wager you have several other dresses just like that in your wardrobe, do you not?"

"Well, yes."

"Then if something dreadful happens to this one, we shall simply toss it out or give it to the poor and you may wear one of your other dresses. What is the point of having any number of dresses, if one does not use them?"

"I had not thought of it quite that way." Meredith took a renewed interest in the luncheon spot. "Perhaps you are right."

Augusta grinned and shook out the cloth that had been packed in the basket. "That reminds me. I believe we shall send for a seamstress from the village tomorrow. You need some new dresses."

"I do?"

"Definitely."

"Aunt Clarissa said the ones I have now will do for another six months or a year at least."

"Impossible. You will outgrow them long before that. In fact, I daresay you will outgrow them by the end of the week."

"A week?" Meredith stared at her. Then she smiled hesitantly. "Oh, I see. You are joking again, are you not?"

"No, I am quite serious."

"Oh. Tell me more about your brother. I have sometimes thought I might like to have a brother."

"Have you, indeed? Well, brothers are a very interesting lot." Augusta began to talk easily of all the good times she had known with Richard as she and Meredith set out the appetizing repast of cold meat pies, sausages, fruit, and biscuits.

Augusta and Meredith had just seated themselves when a long shadow fell over the meal. A pair of glossy black boots came to a halt at the edge of the white cloth.

"Is there enough for three, do you think?" Harry asked.

"Papa." Meredith leaped to her feet, looking first surprised and then anxious. "Augusta said someone must show her around the grounds today and she said you were too busy to do so. She asked me to do it."

"An excellent notion." Harry smiled at his daughter. "No one knows this estate better than you do."

Meredith smiled back, clearly relieved. "Do you want a meat pie, Papa? Cook made several. And there are lots and lots of biscuits and sausages. Here, have some."

Augusta scowled ferociously. "Do not go giving away all our food, Meredith. You and I have first choice here. Your father is an uninvited guest and he only gets the leftovers."

"You are a hard-hearted woman, madam wife," Harry drawled.

Meredith's fingers froze around a pie. She looked first at Augusta with stunned eyes and then turned to her father. "There is plenty for you, Papa. Truly there is. You can have mine."

"Not at all," Harry said easily. "I shall just take Augusta's portion. I would much rather eat her share."

"But Papa—"

"Enough," Augusta said, laughing at the child's earnest expression. "Your father is teasing both of us and I am teasing him. Do not concern yourself, Meredith. There is plenty of food for everyone."

"Oh." With an uncertain glance at her father, Meredith settled back down on the cloth. She arranged the skirts of her dress very carefully so that they did not fall onto the grass. "I am glad you joined us, Papa. This is fun, is it not? I do not think I have ever been on a picnic. Augusta says she and her brother used to go on picnics all the time."

"Is that so?" Harry lounged back on one elbow and bit into a meat pie as he slanted Augusta a veiled glance.

Augusta realized with a small sense of shock that Harry was dressed in riding clothes and his throat was bare. He was not wearing his usual impeccably tied cravat. She had rarely seen him this casually garbed, except in the privacy of their bedchambers, of course. She blushed at that thought and bit into a pie.

"Yes," Meredith said, growing increasingly chatty. "Her brother was a Northumberland Ballinger, just like Augusta. They are noted for being quite bold and daring. Did you know that, Papa?"

"I believe I have heard that, yes." Harry continued munching his pie, his eyes never leaving Augusta's flushed face. "I myself can testify to the rather daring temperament of the Northumberland Ballingers. One can hardly imagine the sort of bold things Northumberland Ballingers get up to. Especially in the middle of the night."

Augusta knew she was turning a very bright shade of pink. She shot her tormentor a warning glance. "I have found the earls of Graystone can be astonishingly bold, too. One might even say overbold."

"We have our moments." Harry grinned and took another healthy bite of pie.

Meredith missed the byplay and continued chattering away to her father. "Augusta's brother was exceedingly brave. And a wonderful horseman. He was in a race once, did Augusta tell you?"

"No."

"Well, he was. And he won. He always won his races, you see."

"Astounding."

Augusta cleared her throat gently. "Would you like some fruit, Meredith?"

She managed to deflect the child's conversation until the end of the meal. Then she encouraged Meredith to try the game of floating two twigs in the stream to see which one reached a certain point first.

Meredith hesitated, but when Harry got up and showed her how the game was played, her enthusiasm for the sport grew rapidly. Harry stood on the bank watching her play upstream for a moment and then he walked back to the cloth and reseated himself beside Augusta.