The Spinster's Beau by Caylen McQueen

Author:Caylen McQueen [McQueen, Caylen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2013-05-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“I hardly recognized Robbie without his encasement of mud.” Emily glanced down at the little white dog, who pounced and yipped around her heels. “Although... I suppose the same could be said of me.”

“I was rather surprised myself,” Anne agreed. “When the maid finished cleaning him, his coat was practically sparkling!”

The puppy snatched the bottom of Emily's gown in his jaws, allowing himself to be dragged along with her. “He's as feisty as ever, though.”

“I think Robbie likes you.” Over her shoulder, Anne gave her brother a knowing look. “I'm so glad you agreed to join us for a picnic, Miss Weaver. I rarely have anyone other than my brother for company, so your presence is a rare delight.”

“I was happy to get an invitation. I can't remember the last time I was invited to a formal picnic.”

“Well...” Sighing, Anne lifted the small wicker basket she was carrying. “I don't know how formal it will be with only the three of us, but I do love a nice picnic. I love sitting under the trees, in the breeze, surrounded by flora and fauna. It's such a wonderful way to commune with nature.”

“And I couldn't agree with you more,” Emily said. She watched Robin spread a blanket across the ground, and when he was satisfied, he motioned for the ladies to sit. From her basket, Anne immediately extracted a small dish, which was filled with deviled eggs. “Oh! My favorite! May I?”

“Of course!” Anne nodded enthusiastically, and continued to explore her basket. There were cold roast sandwiches, bread, butter, cheese and grapes. The latter was claimed by her brother, who twisted the fruit from its vine and popped one in his mouth. Robbie was sniffing around the roast, so Anne surreptitiously sneaked him a bite. “Emily?”

Emily glanced up from the deviled egg she was nibbling on. “Hm?”

“You look so pretty.”

“As do you.”

“I wish my hair was as dark as yours.”

“We often want the opposite of what we have, or so it seems,” Emily said. “I've always thought golden hair was the most beautiful of all.”

“Like my brother's?”

“I... suppose.” Emily could feel Robin's eyes on her, but she couldn't bring herself to look in his direction. “Your hair is quite the same color as his.”

“But I happen to prefer darker hair. It makes you look exotic.” Anne gobbled a slice of cheese, and slipped another sliver of roast to the puppy. Robbie was so overjoyed by his treat, he rolled on his back and kicked his legs in the air. He looked so adorable, Anne was compelled to scratch his stomach, which made him yelp with delight. “I like to write.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” Anne nodded proudly.

“What do you write?”

“Plays, mostly. It was always my dream to be as famous as Shakespeare, but I suppose that will never happen... unless it happens posthumously. And, of course, I am hindered by my sex. The literary works of women are rarely taken seriously.”

“I would love to read one of your plays.” Emily consumed a second deviled egg as the conversation continued.

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