The Last Eligible Bachelor - Ashtyn Newbold Page 0,12
dropping to my knees to help her.
Jessie shook her head, swatting my hand away. “‘Tis my duty. How did it go? Tell me everything.”
I sat back on my heels, hiding my face in my sticky hands. Mr. Hill’s handkerchief hadn’t managed to clean them completely. “I made a complete fool of myself. Or rather, of Sophia.” I cringed.
Jessie chewed her lower lip. “How so?”
I explained everything, from the spilled tea tray to the scrambling around on my knees to clean it up. “I was not thinking clearly!” I sighed, gritting my teeth. “How could I have been so daft?”
Jessie paused for a short moment, studying my face. “Was the gentleman handsome?”
“Well, yes,” I said in a blunt voice. “There is no questioning that.”
“Then I know exactly why you be actin’ all foolish.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“No, Jessie. No.” I held up a hand. “You are wrong. I would have done the same thing no matter how blue his eyes were.”
Jessie giggled, eyeing me with no small amount of suspicion.
“I was simply nervous to be meeting so many new people under Sophia’s…pretenses.” I rubbed one side of my face before remembering the jam on my fingers. The substance stuck on the tiny hairs near my ear. I groaned. “Did I mention Mr. Hill had to remove himself from the party to wash himself because I soiled his clothing and his face?”
Jessie laughed again, throwing her head back. “’Twill take a great deal of timidity to make him forget you now.”
“It doesn’t matter if he remembers me for what happened today,” I said in a confident voice, though I didn’t feel it. “If he comes to think of me as the ‘clumsy, odd, ridiculous lady’ of the five, then I will consider that a success. All Sophia asked of me was that I do not draw his eye toward me as a potential choice of wife. He will choose one of the other ladies, I am sure of it.”
Jessie gave a slow nod, pursing her lips before a laugh burst out. “I believe you’ve done the trick.”
I joined her laughter, holding one hand against my side before pulling it away fast. I needed to stop touching things with my jam covered fingers. “I think you are right. Perhaps now all that remains for us to do is enjoy our time away from Sedgwick Manor. I wish we could explore Bibury this afternoon. Mrs. Ollerton has condemned me to this room to rest until tomorrow morning.” I turned toward the window, where a clear view of the gardens showed through the glass.
“Perhaps if you arise early enough tomorrow, you’ll have an opportunity to see the grounds before the rest of the guests demand your time.”
I smiled, letting the sun warm my cheeks as I stepped closer to the window. “That sounds like a wonderful plan.”
Arising before the sun had become a habit of mine, so I was surprised to find the peach glow of dawn seeping through the drapes when I awoke the next morning. I tossed the blankets off as quickly as I could before remembering that I was not at Sedgwick Manor; I was at Winslow House. I did not have to attend to Sophia, or anyone else today. I could take a leisurely walk through the gardens instead.
I stretched my back, unable to stop the wide smile on my cheeks.
When I stepped outside, the faint trill of birdsong carried across the peach and pale grey sky. The grass was damp, as if it had rained overnight. My boots made a suctioning sound as I marched over the grass that led to the stone path. The path seemed to lead straight through the gardens behind the house, so I followed it, ducking under the slightly overgrown trees. The branches were only partially clothed in leaves, large gaps still remaining from the winter months. What flowers the bushes did bear were small and pink, white, and purple, bursting out in tiny buds.
I filled my lungs with the chilled air, wrapping my arms around myself. Perhaps I should have waited for the sun to rise completely before setting out on my exploration, but I had been too excited. Winslow House was lovely, and I could only imagine how it would look a month from now, when spring had fully emerged among the bushes and trees. Two robins were perched on the lowest branch of a nearby tree, chirping to one another, as if making commentary on my impertinence to be interrupting their quiet