Mark was taking a morning constitutional walk before breakfast. With the crowd of guests, he had not had a moment alone for several days. He was walking along the edge of the lake. He thought about going to his fishing spot but there really was not enough time before the guests would start arising and besiege the breakfast room for their morning meal. He would need to be there quite soon, so he turned around and headed back toward the hall.

He spotted a figure walking toward him up ahead. Who, besides him, would be up at this hour? He shaded his eyes from the rising sun and squinted to see who it might be.

As the figure got closer he realized it was Emily.

“Good morning. I thought I was the only one up this early,” he said.

As Emily approached, she grinned and said, “Oh, no. I love the early morning and, on such a fresh summerlike day, I could not resist stretching my legs. I have been practicing so very much these past few weeks, I have taken no exercise at all and it is very refreshing.”

“That it is. Please continue on with your walk undisturbed, as I know of no one else up at this hour. Unless you would care to accompany me back to the house for breakfast.”

“Yes, I should like that.”

She turned and followed along with him. They were both silent for a few moments as they drank in the beauty of the morning. The sun was rising through the trees that lined the lake. The birds were singing their morning songs and a number flitted across the lake, dipping to skim across the surface, before landing on the shore to gather nesting material.

Thin clouds scudded across the sky catching the light from the rising sun and glowing orange, pink, and yellow. A soft breeze blew the scent of newly mown grass that the groundskeepers had recently cut in preparation for the guests’ arrivals.

Mark glanced at Emily before he asked, “You are quite near Hyde Park. Do you enjoy taking your exercise there?”

She looked up at him. “I do—when I can. However, my sisters are generally useless at accompanying me, and my father leaves early for the shop each morning, so I mostly leave the house alone.”

“Is it quite safe or proper for a young lady to walk unaccompanied early in the morning?” he asked.

“Oh no. I walk with my friend, Fanny, who also is an early riser.”

“If I were in London I would love to walk with you.”

“And that would be most welcome,” she said, shooting him a sideways glance and felt as if she was blushing.

Mark was unsure, but he could not help himself, and he reached over without looking at her and gently took her hand. She, too, did not respond with a look but allowed her hand to be taken.

When they returned near the house, Emily reluctantly removed her hand and asked, “What time is the meeting with the gentlemen?”

“Ten o’clock in my study. Is that convenient for you?”

“Most certainly.”

“Then, if you will excuse me, I have a brief bit of business to attend to in the stable. Enjoy your breakfast. Good morning.” He tipped his hat and left Emily by the entranceway.

* * *

Later that morning, Sophie sat at the breakfast table in the dining room reading. As she was a late riser, most of the other guests had already breakfasted, and the morning activities were well underway in the rest of the house.

A number of guests had arranged for a trap shooting party and a number of others were to ride or explore the extensive property. Those less actively inclined tended to gravitate to the sunny lounge porch where tea was always being served, and a number of guests collected to read, play chess, cards, or to snooze in the sun with a blanket thrown over their laps.

Sophie was engrossed in a gothic novel and munching on a crumpet when Mark came passing through, on his way to another errand.

“Good morning, Sophie,” he greeted. “Are you enjoying your stay?”

She looked up at him blankly. “More or less. The dinner last evening was enjoyable, and I had a stimulating conversation with the son of the new Viceroy to Hong Kong. He was most charming, and expressed a wish that we might go riding together this afternoon.” She looked up at him.

Mark suspected she was hoping he might try to talk her out of going, but he did not.

“That sounds most enjoyable. I wish I were free to join you, but as a host with nearly a hundred guests, I have little time for my own amusement.”

He started to leave, but she stopped him by saying, “You have time, however, to hold meetings with Miss Dunn this morning, I hear.”

Mark turned to her. “Sophie, you know that is about business. I am not doing it for amusement.” He felt bad that he was unable to spend much time with Sophie and said, “I want you to enjoy yourself this weekend. I am sorry to be so busy. But I promise we can spend some time together after this weekend. Perhaps we might take a trip to London for some theatre or shopping, or whatever you like.”

That seemed to mollify her and she turned back to her reading.

“London sounds nice. Might we visit my friend, Stephanie Bowles? I have not seen her for several years, although we write each other frequently.”

“We can do whatever you wish.”

“And my mother would most certainly want to come along as a chaperone.”

“That will be acceptable.”

Mark needed to get to his next task and headed once more for the door.

“And perhaps you have time later this evening when we might be able to spend some time together, alone?”

“I doubt that, Sophie. I am sorry. But I really am pressed this weekend.”

She gave a coy smile, “But try. Even half an hour would be so lovely.”

“I will see what I can do,” he said and escaped.

* * *

Mark went directly to see his father, whom he had not visited for several days. He entered the darkened room and thought his father might still be asleep. He backed up to leave when his father spoke up.

“Mark? Is that you?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Come in, Son. Come sit with me.”

Mark entered the room. “Might I open the draperies? It is so dark.”

“The morning light hurts my eyes. The sun comes right in.”

“Just a little then.”

He went to the windows and opened two sets of draperies just wide enough to allow some light to stream in, slashing across the oriental carpet.

“Where is the nurse?” Mark asked.

“She should be here momentarily. She needed to change her clothes.”

Mark went over to his father’s bedside and stood looking down at him.

“I am sorry you had to miss the recital last evening. It was quite marvelous.”

“I am sorry I have to miss the weekend altogether. It has been a long time since there has been so much activity in the house. This is how it used to be. But times seem to be changing and there is not as much social activity these days.”

“I was wondering if you might feel up to a short recital here in your rooms. I believe Miss Dunn would be delighted to play a few pieces for you, unless you think it might be too tiring.”

“Oh, Son, I should love that. You know how much I enjoy music, and it makes me sad that I cannot enter into the festivities this weekend. A short concert would be most welcome.”

“Then, I shall arrange it. Perhaps later this afternoon?”

“If I am not asleep.”

“Then, whenever suits you.”

“Stop by after lunch and see how I am doing.”

Mark took his father’s hand. He could tell the old man was fading. And, as much as he regretted thinking it, he knew the end could not be far off—days, perhaps weeks. But he also knew the old man was tenacious and might surprise them all and hang on through the rest of the year.

The nurse returned. “Good morning, Your Grace,” she said, coming over and straightening the bed covers.

“Good day, Mildred. Is there anything you need?”

“We are doing just fine. And the staff are very responsive folks if anything is required.”

“I am pleased to hear that. We have a grand staff here. Although they are stretched thin this weekend with all the guests.”

Mark turned back to his father. “Is there anything you need from me? I have a hectic morning but have a few moments.”

“Just sit with me. I get very lonely.” He cast a look at Mildred. “She is a darling but does not say much. She is always engrossed in her knitting. I do not see how any one person can wear so many scarfs, socks, or mittens.”

Mildred looked over her spectacles as she knitted. “They are for the poor, your Grace,” she said with a wry smile. “And he knows it,” she said to Mark.

Mark sat with his father and held his hand until he closed his eyes to snooze again. Mark stood up.

“Tell him I shall stop by later and remind him of the recital?”

“Recital?” Mildred asked.

“He will tell you about it.”