Amusement sparkled in the eyes. "Yes. It's an American word that means 'to recall past events.'"
Suspicion pricked at him. Was she trying to glean information from him? Keeping his expression carefully blank he asked "What do you want to know?"
"Why, nothing, your grace. Just think of one of your fondest memories while I sketch. It will help me to capture your expression correctly."
"I see." But he didn't see at all. Fond memory? Of what? He'd sat for several portraits, all of which hung in the gallery at Bradford Hall, and he'd had to do nothing save sit immobile for interminable lengths of time. He searched his mind and came up totally blank.
"Surely you have one fond thought lurking in there somewhere, your grace."
Not bloody likely. But he wasn't about to let her know that. Determined to dig up a happy thought, Austin concentrated while she continued to watch him.
"Just let your mind wander… and relax," she said softly.
His gaze moved past her and settled on Myst grazing nearby. An image of William popped into his mind… William, at thirteen, running to the stables behind Austin, and Robert close behind his older brothers…
"You're sporting a most intriguing smile," she said. "Will you share your thoughts with me?"
He considered refusing, but decided no harm could come in telling her. "I'm thinking about a grand adventure I shared with my brothers." Warmth spread through him as he recalled the day in vivid detail. "We were forced to flee to the stables after we'd schemed to force Caroline's sour-faced governess to resign her post. We'd rigged a barrel of flour and a bucket of water over the woman's bedchamber door. When she opened the door, her outraged screams shook the rafters. We hid in the hayloft and howled with laughter until we could barely breathe."
"How old were you?"
"I was fourteen. William was thirteen and Robert ten."
The memory faded slowly, like a plume of smoke wafting on a gentle breeze.
"What other mischief did you boys get into?"
Another image immediately popped into his mind and a chuckle worked its way up his throat. "One day, that same summer, the three of us were walking by the lake when Robert, who's been a devil since the day he was born, dared William to shuck his clothes and jump in, an activity that our father strictly forbade. Not to be outdone, I immediately dared him to do the same. Within moments, we were all stripped bare, splashing and diving, enjoying the time of our lives. But we suddenly realized we weren't alone."
"Oh, dear. Did your father come upon you?"
"No, although that might have been better. It was our friend Miles, now the Earl of Eddington. He stood on the shore, his arms laden with our clothes and an unmistakable look in his eyes. We raced off in hot pursuit, but Miles was too fast. We were forced to sneak into the house, without a stitch on, through the kitchen." He shook his head and laughed. "We managed to avoid Father, but the kitchen staff had fodder for their gossip mill for months."
His laughter faded and a rapid succession of memories flashed through his mind: he and William swimming together, fishing together; explaining to William the intricacies of where babies come from, then laughing uproariously at the expression of horror on his face. Then, years later, sharing a meal at their club, or a laugh at the faro table, or a race on horseback. So many moments shared… moments that were gone forever. God, how I miss you, William.
"I'm finished."
The soft words broke through Austin's reverie. "I beg your pardon?"
"I said I'm finished with your sketch." She held the tablet out to him. "Would you like to see it?"
Austin took the sketch and studied the picture intently It depicted him as he was not used to seeing himself. The man in the picture appeared completely relaxed leaning back against the tree trunk, one leg drawn up, his fingers casually linked around his raised knee. His eyes held a mischievous gleam, and a small smile played around the corners of his lips, as if he were thinking of something amusing and happy.
"Do you like it?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder to study her handiwork.
Her light lilac fragrance again assailed his senses. Shiny hair lay in wild disarray around her lovely face. One long auburn curl brushed his upper arm and he stared at it, a slash of dark red against his white sleeve, and he fought the almost irresistible urge to reach out and touch it.
He cleared his throat. "Yes. I like it very much. You captured my mood perfectly."
"You mentioned a younger brother named Robert."
"Yes. He's away, traveling on the Continent."
She studied him intently. "And William-you love him very much."
A lump lodged in his throat. "Yes."
He didn't comment on her use of the present tense. God yes, he'd loved William. Even at the end when he'd claimed he didn't… when he'd witnessed with his own disbelieving ears and eyes his brother's unthinkable treason.
"Yes. I loved him." He handed her back the tablet. Her gaze riveted on his cheek. "Does your injury pain you?"
"It stings a bit."
"Then I insist on preparing you a salve." She pulled a satchel from her knapsack.
"What is that you have?"
"My medical bag."
"You brought a medical bag on a walk?"
She nodded. "Whenever I walk or ride. As a child I constantly skinned my elbows and knees." A teasing gleam entered her eyes. "As you already know my fondness for crawling about in the bushes, I'm sure this doesn't surprise you. Papa finally fashioned a bag for me to bring along whenever I left the house. I've pared the supplies down to the bare minimum and the bag isn't heavy."
"How did you manage to skin your knees? Didn't your skirts protect you?"
A blush washed over her cheeks. "I'm afraid I tended to, er, hike my skirts up a bit." His surprise obviously showed because she quickly added "But only when I climbed trees."
"Climbed trees?" A picture of her, long limbed and laughing, her skirts hiked up to her thighs, flashed in his mind leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
She shot him a teasing smile. "Have no fear, your grace. I stopped climbing trees several weeks ago. But I still bring my bag with me. You never know when you may run across a handsome gentleman in need of medical aid. I find it best to always be prepared."
"I suppose that's true," Austin murmured oddly pleased she thought him handsome, yet surprised that her words did not strike him as flirtatious-merely friendly.
He watched with interest as she removed several pouches and small wooden bowls from the satchel. Excusing herself, she walked to the lake, returning with a container of water. After setting her supplies around her, she set to work, her face a study in concentration.
"What are you mixing?" Austin asked fascinated by her unusual actions.
"Nothing more than dried herbs, roots, and water."
He didn't see how a few herbs and water could help his stinging cheek, but he remained silent and simply watched her, reminding himself that the more he observed her, the more he would learn about her.
When she finished she knelt in front of him, then dipped her fingers into the bowl of salve. "This may sting a bit at first, but only for a moment."
He eyed the creamy concoction dubiously. "What possible good can that do?"
"You'll see. May I proceed?"
When he hesitated she raised her brows, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Surely you're not afraid of a bit of salve, your grace."
"Of course not," he all but huffed irked that she would suggest such a thing, even in jest. "By all means, apply the salve."
She leaned forward and gently rubbed her cream into his injured cheek. It stung like the very devil and he forced himself not to pull away and wipe off her ridiculous remedy.
In an effort to distract himself from his fiery skin, he turned his attention to her. An expression of concern puckered her brow as she dabbed on more of the salve. Streaks of early morning sunlight dappled through the trees, shooting her hair with red and gold highlights. For the first time he noticed the smattering of tiny freckles on her nose.