His shirt clung to him in patches as he stretched. It was even warmer than yesterday, more like July than May. Beside him, Ben worked with a child’s seeming indifference to the heat. Jeremy bent back down and wielded his hoe, toiling on in the vain hope that heat and exertion would obliterate what was fast becoming an obsession.When Livvy came up beside them, fresh and ladylike in a blue sprigged gown and bonnet, lace high at her throat, gloves discreetly covering her hands, he knew he’d failed.“It is dreadfully hot out here, isn’t it?” she asked, a slight stammer in her voice.He straightened to face her, his face burning. Custom dictated that a gentleman remain fully dressed regardless of the weather, but here he stood, a brutish oaf in his shirtsleeves, without even a cravat around his neck.“I thought perhaps the two of you should have some lemonade on the terrace,” she continued.The breathless sound of her voice, the way she didn’t seem to quite look at him, confirmed his worst fears.
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