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