His father snorted. “Youmayhave one.”
Geoffrey walked over to Jean. “There’s blackberry jam.” He smiled up at her.
Even though she’d seen him painted red and chopping at her with a hatchet, Jean’s heart nearly melted. She prepared a muffin to his specifications before filling a plate for herself.
With the gentlemen looking on, Jean didn’t linger over her food but ate as fast as good manners would allow. She was surprised to see Geoffrey savor rather than bolt his muffin and jam. They finished at the same time, and the group headed for the stables together.
Half an hour later, Benjamin paused to consult his memory of the route. He felt as if he was guiding a caravan. His uncle and Miss Saunders rode on either side of him. Tom and Geoffrey, on a sturdy gelding, were a little ahead, at Geoffrey’s impatient urging. Further back, the nursery maid rode pillion behind a young groom; she looked nervous at her sideways perch. The fellow, Jack his name was, led a packhorse with the supplies for their picnic. As Benjamin’s apparently infallible gardener had predicted, it was a sunny day, warmer than it had been for some time.
“Are we going to those hills?” asked Miss Saunders.
She looked at ease in his mother’s old saddle. As she closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun, a twist of brown hair sprang from beneath the tricorn hat and curled down her temple. Benjamin was startled by an intense desire to reach over and tuck it back into place. And then, perhaps, to trail his fingertips along the glowing skin of her cheek. He blinked and turned away. “Yes, the gorge cuts through them.”
“The Mendips,” said Benjamin’s uncle. “A curious word. Your father told me that no one is sure where it comes from.”
Geoffrey was flapping his elbows and kicking at his horse’s sides to urge him on, an ineffectual gesture because his feet didn’t reach the stirrups. Tom the wanderer had a steadying arm around him.
Benjamin wondered how he had ended up out of his house, with this oddly mixed party, on such a quixotic expedition.
They rode on, reaching the small village of Cheddar after an hour in the saddle and passing through it into a long, winding gash in the hills. Stony gray cliffs rose vertically on either side of the trail, enclosing them in towering walls. The gorge looked far too deep to have been cut by the stream flowing through it, but Benjamin understood this was its origin. Trees grew where they could find purchase, giving way to grass on the steeper parts. The place wasn’t as verdant as it would be in the summer, but there was no wind here at the bottom. When the sun reached its zenith and the shadows drew back, the temperature would be pleasant.
The horses picked their way along the flowing water, avoiding fallen boulders and ruts. Their riders exclaimed over the dramatic scenery. Rounding a sharp bend, they came to a wider place in the gorge. A swerve in the cliff formed a space like a lawn, with the stream running along one side. “This looks like a good spot for our picnic,” Benjamin declared, pulling up.
“I want to ride all the way to the end,” protested Geoffrey.
“That’s too far,” Benjamin replied. “A good five miles. And the road is rough. The gorge looks the same all the way along.”
“But there are caves!”
And Benjamin had chosen this place precisely because the caves were not here. Young Tom seemed quick and trustworthy, but confronted with a cave, Geoffrey was all too likely to plunge in and lose himself.
“I could ride a bit further,” said Miss Saunders.
“Must you always say the most unhelpful thing,” Benjamin muttered.
She heard him. He hadn’t meant her to, or…he didn’tthinkhe had. She looked surprisingly mortified. He could never set a foot right with this young woman. “This is where we picnic,” he declared. “Or, we can turn around and go home again.”
Geoffrey looked mutinous.
“You wanted to come to the gorge, Geoffrey. This is the gorge. Perhaps a little gratitude is in order.” Benjamin frowned at his son.
“Come along,” said Tom. He jumped down and lifted his small charge off the horse. “Let’s look about.” He gave Benjamin a wink.
The two servants unloaded the packhorse. Benjamin and his uncle unsaddled and tethered their mounts while Jack began to collect wood for a fire.
Helping Lily the nursery maid spread blankets on the grass and set out hampers, Jean watched her host move about the area. His tall, athletic figure drew the eye. No one observing their small party would fail to see that he was in charge.
“Heigh-ho,” came a shrill cry. “Look at me!”
Everyone turned, and searched, and discovered Geoffrey clinging to the face of the cliff many feet above their heads. He appeared to be standing on a narrow ledge, a tiny figure against the towering wall of rock. As Jean stared, he let go with one hand and waved to them. Appalled, she ran over to stand just below the boy. Lord Furness came up beside her, his face pale and set. His uncle, on his other side, looked equally concerned.
Tom had his hand on the cliff. “I turned away for one minute, and he swarmed up there like a monkey,” he said. “I’ll climb up and fetch him.” A flake of rock came off under his fingers and rattled to the ground.
“I don’t think this stone will hold your weight,” said Lord Furness. He pulled at a small outcropping; it came free and fell. “And how would you carry him down?” He examined the cliff and murmured, “How the deuce did he get up there?” He raised his eyes, let out a breath, and spoke more softly. “An amazing feat, Geoffrey. Can you come back down now, please?”
Geoffrey grinned with pride. “You can’t get me.”
“No. You’ve outdone us all. Truly astonishing. But come down now.”