She forced herself to stop in mid-thought and turned her mind back to the matter at hand. She and Neville were taking their daily walk around the Hollingwood grounds. For the first time in memory, he hadn't stomped on her foot or poked at some poor insect with a stick. And he called her Miss Lyndon every chance he got. Victoria was pleased that he had finally learned a lesson in manners. Perhaps there might be hope for the boy after all.
Neville raced ahead, then whirled around and ran back to her side. “Miss Lyndon,” he said with great gravity, “have we any special plans for today?”
“I am glad you asked, Neville,” she replied. “We're going to play a new game today.”
“A new game?” He looked at her with a bit of suspicion, as if he had already discovered all of Britain's worthwhile games.
“Yes,” she said briskly, “we are. Today we are going to discuss colors.”
“Colors?” he said with that particular brand of disgust only a boy of five years can convey. “I already know my colors.” He began to list them. “Red, blue, green, yellow—”
“We are going to learn new colors,” she cut in.
“…purple, orange…” He was shouting now.
“Neville Hollingwood!” Victoria spoke in her sternest voice.
He quieted down, something he probably wouldn't have done before Robert's intervention.
“Do I have your attention now?” Victoria asked.
Neville nodded.
“Excellent. Now then, today we are going to study the color green. There are many different shades of green. For example, the leaf on that tree over there is not the exact same color as the grass we are standing on, is it?”
Neville's little head shot back and forth between the leaf and the grass. “No,” he said, as if not quite believing what he was seeing. “It's not.” He looked up excitedly. “And it's not quite the same color as the stripe on your dress!”
“Very good, Neville. I'm very proud of you.” He beamed.
“Let us see how many different shades of green we can find. And once we're done we shall find names for all these greens.”
“There is moss on the rocks in the pond.”
“Yes, indeed. We shall call that moss green.”
“What is the green on your dress called?”
Victoria looked down and surveyed her drab dress. “I believe it is called forest green.”
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “It's much darker than the forest.”
“Not at night.”
“I've never been outside in the forest at night.”
Victoria smiled. “I have.”
“You have?” He looked at her with new respect.
“Mmm-hmm. Now then, what other colors can you find?”
“What about the dress my mama was wearing this morning? It was an icky color, but it was green.”
Victoria was inclined to agree with his assessment of Lady Hollingwood's dress, but she wasn't about to say so. “Your mother's dress was not ‘icky,’ Neville,” she said diplomatically. “And we call that color—er, I suppose it would be called brackish green.”
“Brackish.” He let the word roll around in his mouth for a moment before pointing a stubby finger to Victoria's right. “What about his lordship's coat? That's green, too.”
Victoria felt her stomach plummet to somewhere in the vicinity of her feet as she turned her head. She groaned. It would have to be Robert. There were at least a dozen “his lordships” on the property for the house party, but no, it would have to be Robert walking toward them.
Not that she thought this was any coincidence.
“Good morning, Miss Lyndon, Master Neville.” Robert swept into a courtly bow.
Victoria nodded her head, trying to ignore the way her heart was soaring and her pulse was racing. She let out a snort, thoroughly disgusted with herself.
“That is certainly a nice greeting,” Robert said, smiling at her reaction.
His gaze locked with hers, and Victoria felt the breath leave her body. She probably would have stood stock still all afternoon, staring into his eyes, if Neville had not interrupted them.
“My lord! My lord!” came the voice from below.
Reluctantly, both Victoria and Robert looked down.
“We're practicing colors,” Neville said proudly.
“Is that so?” Robert crouched down to the boy's level. “Did you know that objects have their colors because of certain properties of light? One cannot see colors in the dark. Scientists call this concept the wave theory of light. It's a relatively new discovery.”
Neville blinked.
“My lord,” Victoria said, unable to suppress a smile. He'd always been so passionate about the sciences. “Perhaps that is a bit beyond the scope of a five-year-old.”
He looked up at her sheepishly. “Oh yes, of course.”
Neville coughed, clearly wanting to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Today,” he said firmly, “we are discussing green.”
“Green, you say?” Robert lifted his arm and pretended to look at his sleeve with great interest. “I am wearing green.”
Neville beamed at the attention he was receiving from Robert. “Yes, we were just talking about you.”
Robert leveled a rather knowing look in Victoria's direction. “You were?”
“Yes.” Neville turned to Victoria. “Miss Lyndon, weren't we talking about his lordship's coat?”
“You certainly were,” Victoria retorted, not enjoying herself in the least.
The boy tugged at her sleeve. “What kind of green is it?”