It was becoming clear that I wasn’t getting out of this.
“Ashington came up to me claiming he was next on my dance card, when he wasn’t on it at all. The gentleman who was next spoke up and I sided with him.”
Uncle Alfred was grinning broadly. His jovial face was always so friendly. Nothing like my mother’s. It was hard to believe the two were siblings. “Arrogant ass. You set him straight.”
“Right? It was arrogant, wasn’t it? “I liked the confirmation from my uncle.
“Absolutely! Teach him to assume his title can get him anything he desires,” Uncle Alfred stood then and patted my shoulder. “Well done, girl, well done,” he replied.
I felt an odd sense of pride and acceptance. It was new and I wasn’t sure how to describe it. My mother nor my father had ever said words even remotely close to those to me. I felt tears sting my eyes and I fought them back. I would not get emotional over this. That was weak and silly. I was neither.
“A Mr. Fletcher is here to call on Miss Bathurst,” the butler announced from the doorway.
My first thought was, Aunt Harriet is still in her bare feet. My second thought was, at least the first gentleman to visit was a pleasant one. Even if I had no interest in him as far as a husband went. He was still kind, had a genuine smile, and didn’t require much conversation.
“That would be my cue to leave. Enjoy your morning, ladies,” Uncle Alfred said as he went to leave. “Fletcher,” he greeted as he passed him.
“Sir,” Fletcher replied nervously.
I wasn’t sure this situation could become anymore awkward unless, of course, Aunt Harriet decided to shove another entire piece of chocolate in her mouth. I glanced quickly at her, wondering if that was, in fact, her next move.
Aunt Harriet quickly put her slippers on and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. It would make for an interesting story if she’d kept them bare. The letter in my hand, I quickly folded, and handed back to my aunt just as Mr. Fletcher entered the drawing room. She didn’t reach for another chocolate but then this visit was not yet over.
“Good day,” he said as he smiled much too brightly. It seemed as if he was much too nervous for a simple visit. He clutched a handful of wild flowers that appeared freshly cut from a garden. “For you,” he said as they were thrust toward me awkwardly.
“Thank you, they’re lovely,” I replied.
Aunt Harriet was on her feet hurrying to my side. “I’ll have these placed in water. Please Mr. Fletcher have a seat. Should I ring for tea?” My aunt sounded as nervous as Mr. Fletcher. The situation was becoming somewhat amusing. This may be the only caller I received today and if so then it would be a relief and a disappointment. Not being forced into pointless conversation sounded nice, but then I did come here to find a husband. Mr. Fletcher was not what I was looking for as far as a husband went. Especially since he was an avid hunter.
“Tea would be—” Mr. Fletcher began, but alas did not get to complete his response.
“Lord Ashington to call upon Miss Bathurst,” the butler announced, causing my amusement to fade ever so abruptly.
My gaze passed Mr. Fletcher and the sudden pale pallor of his face made it clear he did not want to have another encounter with the Earl of Ashington. That I was sure we all could agree on. If one were to have asked me who I expected to call on me this morning, Lord Ashington would not have made the list. Our brief interaction at last night’s ball should have cemented his never coming near me again.
Striding into the drawing room as if he were royalty, very attractive royalty, the Earl of Ashington held an overtly large bouquet of hyacinth, the color of the most brilliant blue, in his right hand. They were stunning and so full yet delicate. Whitney would adore these. I made a mental note to describe them in detail to her later today in a letter.
“Lord Ashington,” Harriet addressed him with too much enthusiasm then she curtsied not once but twice. Perhaps hoping to get it right. I wasn’t sure. It was more than obvious she was pleased to see him and she was quite nervous. “Welcome to our home. Please come have a seat.” For once, I was not amused by my aunt’s inability to mask her facial expressions.
Mr. Fletcher, I noticed, seemed rather tense and uncomfortable. There wasn’t much I could do to remedy that. I had no real reason to dislike the Earl of Ashington. The assumption that I’d willingly give someone else’s place on my dance card to him wasn’t surprising. I was sure most debutantes did so with glee. However, I did stand firm on not appreciating his arrogance.
Lord Ashington gave my aunt a smile that was sure to have her swooning out loud as he took half of the hyacinths from his hand, and I realized, at that moment, it was not one large bouquet but two bouquets. He’d brought my aunt one too. Something Mr. Fletcher hadn’t done. Poor Mr. Fletcher, I thought as I saw his cheeks turn a bright pink.
“For you, my lady,” Lord Ashington said as he handed my aunt the flowers meant for her. It was very thoughtful of him to think of her. Admittedly, a good deal of my dislike from our encounter last night faded but not entirely.
“Oh, these are stunning, Lord Ashington. Thank you for such a lovely gift.”
I watched as my aunt gushed over her flowers before turning my attention to the Earl of Ashington. “Hello again, Lord Ashington,” I said, smiling sincerely. He had just made my aunt quite giddy and that deserved a proper greeting.
“Miss Bathurst,” he replied with a tilt of his head in my direction. “I fear the flowers pale in comparison to your beauty this morning. I should have chosen a more exotic flower although I chose these for their color. They reminded me of your eyes.”
Very well said, Lord Ashington, I thought. He was indeed charming when he chose to be. It made last night’s encounter less… important.
“The flowers are stunning. I do not believe a more exotic flower could compare to their beauty.”
He closed the distance between us and held the remaining bouquet out for me to take. “I’m happy they please you,” he replied and held my gaze a moment longer than proper. “I was told this particular flower would be the most appealing.”
Unable not to smile at the flowers in my hand, I lifted my gaze back to his. “Your informant was very right. Tis a beautiful flower indeed.”
The genuine look of pleasure on his face intrigued me. He appeared almost proud of whoever suggested the flowers. I wanted very much to ask him who had been his informant, but I bit my tongue. It would appear rude and I feared many of my aunt’s American traits were beginning to rub off on me already. Being overtly inquisitive was one of them.
“Mr. Fletcher,” Lord Ashington said then, as he directed his gaze to the other guest in the room, who had remained silent since the arrival of Lord Ashington.
“Lord Ashington,” he replied with a nod then stood, twisting his hands rather nervously. “I must be on my way. It was as always lovely to see you, Miss Bathurst. I look forward to our next meeting. Perhaps at the Gallagher ball.” He spoke so quickly that his sentences ran together, but the slight tremble of nerves in his tone was still noticeable.
“Yes, I shall see you there. Thank you again for the lovely flowers and visit,” I said, feeling sorry for him but knowing he must not be so hasty to flee any small obstacle. It made him appear weak.