The Blackwood estate grounds were bathed in the gentle warmth of a late spring afternoon. Sunlight, dappled by the fresh green leaves of oak tress, danced on the surface of the gently flowing River, its waters sparkling like scattered diamonds.
Under the sprawling, benevolent shade of one particularly magnificent oak, its branches reaching out like protective arms, Suzy had set up her picnic. A thick woolen blanket, patterned in cheerful checks, was spread upon the soft grass, laden with an exquisite assortment of foods – a small crock of sharp pickled cucumber nestled beside a bowl of sweet, sun-ripened strawberries, a wedge of tangy cheese alongside a pot of honeyed biscuits, and a flask of cool lemonade.
Pregnancy, she was discovering, had a most peculiar and demanding palate.
