She started at the light touch of a hand on her brow. Edmund stood before her.

‘I have caught you napping.’

She said indignantly: ‘I was not asleep, merely resting. I did not hear your approach because the pine needles are so soft.’

‘I am glad. So charming a scene, and so delightful to surprise you. Not asleep, then. But dreaming, at least?’

She smiled. ‘Perhaps dreaming.’

‘Of what?’

‘No gentleman would ask. A lady’s dreams are secret.’

‘I accept the rebuke. But I have no doubt they were as delightful and innocent as the scene. It is a pity to disturb it, but my mother has commanded me to call you to the picnic.’ He offered her his hand. ‘Come, fair dreamer.’