something. It couldn’t be me since we had already established that after his brief visit, he didn’t find me to be worth calling upon again. He made his way toward us instead of the waiting crowd.
“Lady Wellington,” he greeted my aunt then his gaze was back on me. “Miss Bathurst. Did I arrive to find you are already taking your leave?”
I managed a nod. “I have a headache,” I replied not sure why he cared if I was here or not. He needed to be more concerned with the fact his brother was flirting with Lydia Ramsbury, like a complete and utter rake.
He seemed truly concerned as his brow furrowed. Who was this man and what had he done with Lord Ashington? “May I escort you both home, then?”
What?
“That is very kind of you Lord Ashington, but our carriage is just outside,” Aunt Harriet said, sounding somewhat devastated that it was.
“Of course,” Lord Ashington replied, giving my aunt a kind smile I’d never seen on the man before. What was happening here? When had Lord Ashington become so… nice?
Then it dawned on me. Nicholas Compton was currently dancing with Lydia Ramsbury or he had been. Lord Ashington must have witnessed it and he was giving us attention simply to remind Lydia just who she was dealing with. The idea of it annoyed me to the point my head was truly starting to ache. It was no longer a lie just to escape. I was not in London to be involved in some ridiculous drama between two brothers. I was here to find a husband.
“Enjoy your evening, Lord Ashington,” I replied and stepped around him before anything more could be said. Whatever game he and his brother were playing, I was not to be a pawn in it. I pitied the girls who were blinded by their good looks and place in society that they were used as such.
I did hope Aunt Harriet was behind me as I hurried out the front door and down the stairs toward the awaiting carriages. She was sure to have much to say about my behavior, but she didn’t realize what was happening as I did. Whatever they held against each other should stay there. Between the two of them. Bringing innocent people into their web of lies and deceit was unfair.
My eyes stung slightly and I blinked back any tears. Crying was silly and I was not silly. I was anything but silly. I doubted I had ever truly been silly. Crossing my arms at my waist to fight off the evening breeze, I heard my aunt’s footsteps behind me.
“Oh dear, oh my,” she said, sounding truly worried.
“It’s fine, Aunt Harriet,” I assured her.
She chewed nervously at her bottom lip in a worrisome way. “He is an earl, Miriam. An eligible one.”
I didn’t need reminding. I said nothing and we stood there as we waited on our carriage to be brought around.
“If you are to find a husband then you must be a bit… more agreeable,” she said.
She was right, of course. However, neither Nicholas Compton or Lord Ashington were going to ever ask for my hand. She needed not to waste her concern on them.
“I know,” I said simply. Explaining more to her was of no use. She would think me daft or full of fancy.
“Very well,” she said softly.
I could not explain to my aunt why I wanted to leave, for it showed a weakness I myself hated. Watching Mr. Compton with Lydia tonight and knowing he had blatantly ignored me had stung. I had not wanted to feel anything, so the fact that I did was a very bitter pill to swallow. I was sure my aunt would understand, but I did not want her pity. I had been silly for a moment and I would not do it again. Imagining there was more to the walk with Mr. Compton had been my mistake. I wouldn’t make it twice.
Chapter Twelve
Nicholas Compton
Keeping my attentions on Lydia Ramsbury had been difficult with Miss Bathurst’s presence in the room. It would seem each time I was to see Miriam Bathurst, she was more appealing than the last. It had taken many drinks and stiff talks with myself the past few days to keep from going to visit Miss Bathurst again. My brother’s complete dedication to courting Lydia Ramsbury had been all that had kept me from cracking.
It had been a relief albeit a concern I didn’t want to feel when Miss Bathurst and her