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The sound of horse hooves and the wheels of the carriage making its way down the cobblestone path barely roused the vehicle’s passenger as she stared at the darkening sky. She had glimpsed a few people walking down the busy streets and has silently wished that she had been among the crowd, making their way towards their homes after a busy day of work, instead of being forced to attend another drab gathering. The woman had initially kept track of the number of lampposts she had passed but had lost count as she drifted farther from the town.
She could hear the wind howling as the snow began to fall and the road turned uneven. She could tell that they were close, considering the number of lampposts began to dwindle. The scenery outside slowly turned brighter as she approached the gates of the Wesleye estate. Once the carriage had passed the gates, a canopy of beautifully crafted lanterns hung over the road. Silently, the female admired the decorations, awed as to how the lights remained burning even with the telltale sign of snow slowly beginning to appear.
The female felt restless as her carriage began to move closer to the entrance of the main building. Clutching her fan and a small bag in the other hand, the young woman slowly angled herself towards the door, bracing for the sudden sting of cold wind and praying that she would not get her dress caught in the carriages’ steps. She watched as a footman appeared before the doors and opened it. A gust of cold wind filled the small space and the young woman began to descend from the protection of the coach.
The young woman could barely hide her displeasure as she took the offered hand of her coachman before her slipper-clad feet touched the damp cobblestone. She held unto the hood of her fur coat as the was immediately chaperoned into the great hall.
Once her coat had been taken and stored, the female was about to make her way towards the brightly light ballroom, when she felt a gloved hand take hold of the crook of her arm. She turned to find the smiling familiar face of Marie–one of her cousins from her maternal grandfather’s side.
“I recognized your carriage even with the dazzling lights.” The younger woman smiled as they finally walked towards the entrance of the ballroom. “Did the old crows put you up to this?”
“So you’ve heard.” A small affectionate smile was followed by a sigh. “How have you been, Marie?”
“I have been well,” Marie replied before pausing and hid behind her fan, huffing. “Other than the fact that the whole of London suspects that I refuse to bed my husband after finding out he has a mistress.”
“Which you do.” The female replied.
“It is private.” Marie objected, fanning herself as the two approached the hall.
“Not exactly, my dear. It hasn’t been since you threw a bowl of brandy balls at him last month at the Winter Montrose Ball."
"Brandy balls,” Marie mumbled, looking amused. “Whenever I feel particularly irritated, I imagine the way it bounced off his fat head, leaving questionable marks–as if a bird had flown overhead and left a delightful little gift. I am so glad I have yet to see the fool.”
“I’m sure after that no one would believe that you retain any amicable relations in the bedchamber. Not when you are shrieking about–"
"There’s no need to go into details.” Her companion interrupted quickly. “You aren’t exactly the jammiest of jams, are you?”
“My decision to attend this gathering does not change my mind about marriage.”
Marie merely snorted.
“How is your snorting any different from Lord Abberton breaking wind?” The young woman inquired.
“You are not listening!” The younger woman cried. “My point is that you needn’t deal with a man ever. You don’t have to listen about what turnips do to his stomach, or be smirked at by his mistress–who appears to be wearing diamond earrings tonight, by the way!”
“You are wearing diamonds,” The female observed with a smile.
“They are the same earrings.” Marie huffed in indignation. “I much prefer your emeralds than my diamonds, which my cheat of a husband seems to have purchased in bulk.”
The two women continued their rather lively conversation behind embroidered fans, each accepting a glass of champagne as they stood close to the table where various appetizers and cakes were laid in tiers. Mid-conversation, Marie let out a small gasp.
“Oh look! I had no inkling that he would be in attendance. I haven’t seen the Earl in London for over a year.” Her companion turned towards the female. “Do you not remember? There is only one man in this universe who could change my mind.”
“About?” The woman pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she continued to nurse her second flute of champagne before eying the multitude of sandwiches to choose from. There had been egg and cress, ranch and anchovy butter, smoked salmon, cucumber and dill butter, and the ever-famous cucumber sandwich. She mulled over the choices, knowing that she would like to avoid feeling sick from overeating but at the same time regretting passing over the chance to try such delicious dishes.
“You never remember anything I say,” Marie complained. “You are as bad as my husband, but you’re my beloved cousin, and you ought to be more attentive.”
"I apologize.“ Plucking an egg and cress sandwich from the platter, the woman turned her attention to her relative. "Would you please remind me?”
“That I never want to bed a man again in my entire life.”
“Alright.”
“A moment.” Marie stared at her with large grey eyes. “Aren’t you going to deter me from such a decision?”
“Ah.” A thoughtful pause. “Birthing a child is quite dangerous.”
“My husband has a mistress,” Marie huffed as she took a sip from her flute. “I believe it is only proper that I take a lover. Or three.”
“Isn’t that quite excessive, Marie?”
“There is only one man in London who might change my mind–no, it is not my husband; I can tell you that much.”
“Someone younger perhaps?” Marie only shook her head, looking almost scandalized.
“Of course not! I would give my virtue only to one man.” “ Marie interjected before continuing, displaying her flair for the dramatic. She nodded towards the other side of the room. ”That Earl.“
Taking a bite of her sandwich, she took a minute to properly taste its contents while racking her head of a single earl with whom she would like to share more than a dance. Unfortunately, the rest of the room seemed to be engulfed in a feverish excitement while she did not. She wasn’t one to be easily swept away with just one exchange or look for that matter.
"I would follow him to Constantinople after a mere nod.” Her companion smiled as if in a reverie.
“Which man?"
With keen eyes, the female observed Marie who seemed to be caught in her thoughts as she ogled the said man who must have been situated across the ballroom. Chuckling softly to herself, the woman hid her mouth behind a fan as she compared her lovely cousin to a child seeing Westminster Abbey for the first time. With a snap of her fan, the female placed a stop to her thoughts–she really shouldn’t compare a church to a beddable earl. It seemed sacrilegious.
"Are you retiring soon? I shall accompany you.” Her cousin seemed to come out of her daydream before her attention was diverted. “He’s just a few meters away!”
“Who?” Turning her head ever so slightly, the female saw a crowded floor of familiar faces who didn’t seem to be of great concern on her part.
“The Earl of Kirkland, of course,” Marie answered happily as she tugged at her cousin’s sleeve, nodding toward the man’s supposed direction. “You must be mad if you wouldn’t consider having an affair with him.”
The woman furrowed her brows in exasperation before replying. “I’ve heard of him but we have never met.” She emptied the last of the champagne before placing the glass flute on a nearby table, not bothering to take another glance due to disinterest.
She did not incline to find a spouse at such a gathering. She had more important things to deal with her parent’s properties, possessions as well as the management of her parent’s textile store. Marriage would only allow those things to be taken by her potential husband while she would be left with very little.
Her companion was currently on her toes, peeking over the crowd. “He’s quite handsome,” She mumbled. “I cannot fathom as to why he’s remained a bachelor.”
“My dear, I will not be going to the retiring room; I am going to leave.” The finality in her tone made her companion whip her head towards her in disbelief. “I have documents and ledgers to–”
“You are so unusual.” Marie interrupted, “ You mean to tell me that you are more interested in such things than finding yourself a lover?”
“There’s more to life than finding a man, my dearest Marie.” the female patted her cousin’s hand before glancing at the window, its ledge seemingly beginning to fill up with snow. “I’m going home. I do not want to get caught in a snowstorm.”
“Rubbish,” Her cousin said. “My couch man was complaining about the same thing. You will get caught in the traffic and it will take much longer than usual for you to arrive home.”
The young woman was determined to return home regardless of what her cousin said to convince her to stay. Truthfully, she would have rather stayed at home and feigned an illness than ventured outside her parents’ estate at this time of the year.
“Oh very well. I will walk you to the entrance,” Marie took her arm as they began to walk towards the middle of the floor–straight towards the crowd of people. “Lord Kirkland is on the right standing next to it.”
If her companion decided to start liaison with the Earl–bachelor or not–all of London’s elite would talk wildly about it for weeks–maybe even a year. Sir Abberton would be enraged and would not forget, even as most people have moved on to the most recent gossip.
“Marie,” The woman started, opting to sound-wise. “I think you should rethink the idea of having an affair with Kirkland.”
“For goodness’ sake, lower your voice,” her younger relative mumbled. “Do you see him now? He’s almost right in front of us.”
The female couldn’t help but freeze, almost stumbling. It was rather inelegant of her and the fact that her vexatious cousin burst out laughing.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
No.
Marie didn’t tell nor describe what the Earl of Kirkland looked like. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, or rich, or had an air of self-respect like the rest of everyone in the crowded ballroom. Rather, it was the intensity and colour of his eyes that caught her attention for a few moments before it was stolen by the gentle tug on her sleeve.
Next to her, Marie was hiding her smile with a fan. “He’s handsome, no?”
Rather than responding, the young woman kept staring. Clearly, the Englishman was uninterested in the night’s festivities or the two ladies who were trying to engage him in conversation.
The young woman flipped her fan open, to hide her discourteous gawking. “What is he doing here? He doesn’t seem to be interested in societal gatherings like this.”
The last three years she had been attending the season and not once had she seen the said man appear. She had attended these gatherings to the behest of her relatives–mostly her aunts–to both placate and humour them. She enjoyed dancing and conversing but clearly not the popular activity among other ladies at this time–which was searching for a husband.
“My husband is one of his acquaintances, so I shall go greet him. As per the reason why he is here, I hear that he is looking for a wife.”
“What?”
“My dear cousin, do you not pay attention to anything?” Marie sighed with a shake of her feathered head. “His grace had been previously engaged to the Count of Highgrove’s eldest daughter but she had eloped with a man from Yorkshire; apparently the man was an acquaintance of her father’s.”
“An acquaintance,” the female echoed as she glanced at the group of people all the while keeping her fan up as her cousin guided her through the crowd. “Marie, I cannot possibly measure up to a Count’s daughter. My family isn’t even that notable in high society.”
“Oh, nonsense. You have done quite well for yourself seeing as you have been rejecting all your potential suitors. Also, this will keep our meddling aunts from pestering you for a husband. ” Before the female could make a snappy retort, Marie held unto her arm–as if to prevent her from escaping–and continued to walk over to the unsuspecting lord. “Now if we don’t hurry, he’ll move away from the door and I’ll miss my chance.”
The two women were not the only ones who seemed to be heading towards the blonde. There was the distinctive drift within the large ballroom, akin to the water coming from a tide that was fast approaching a sandy shore.
The two young women were close enough that she could see that the Englishman’s eyes were a mesmerizing forest green. His face was bony and his blonde hair having a shaggy, almost boyish look to him. His face held a prominent chin and his lips were set in a firm line of sternness–as if trying to look intimidating in the hopes of keeping the eligible women from approaching him. The lord was standing with one leg bent in front of him and the young woman could feel the heat rising in her cheeks just from glimpsing at his posture.
He was lean but she could not deny his attractiveness. Although the man’s arms were hidden under the sleeves of his tailcoat, she could tell he had a set of well-toned arms. The female was willing to bet five shillings that he must enjoy dancing secretly.
But those vivid emerald orbs and the rumours of women vying for his attention were enough to deter her. He wasn’t the sort of man who would ever interest her and she was certain she wouldn’t be able to keep pace with a nobleman’s lifestyle.
“I should leave, truly.” the young woman said with sudden resolution. “You may stop and talk to Lord Kirkland, but I have matters to attend to in the morning.”
“Very well,” Marie said, clearly not listening.
She had wanted to wretch her hand out of her dear cousin’s hold and point out that his grace was clearly not in the mood to entertain guests, but she dismissed it. Marie would soon find out whether the blonde man was interested or not. Even when they were younger, Marie had always found ways to get what she wanted so she wasn’t even surprised when her younger cousin would walk right up to the Englishman and suggest an affair.
The two of them were almost at the door, so the female glanced at the infamous Arthur Kirkland again. He was looking at them. No, at her.
She could feel the heat returning to her face, and she had barely caught herself tripping over her gown and falling forward. She was a merchant’s daughter, the only remaining one of her family. A countryside noble but a respectable one. Definitely not the type of woman who welcomed a man’s eyes taking her in over a crowded ballroom, as if she was a lady of the night.
She merely narrowed her eyes and the man blinked in surprise when a small crooked smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.
“He’s looking at you!” Marie half-whispered and half-shrieked beside her. “Oh, he’s surely too much for you. He's dangerous.”
The young woman’s head snapped towards her companion, breaking the haze caused by the Earl’s attention. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, feeling her pulse quicken as she feigned innocence. “Don’t be silly, Marie. He must have surely mistaken me for another, that is all. Will I see you tomorrow?”
“It could be that he’s walking towards me.” Her poor cousin seemed to be out of breath. “He may be glancing at you as a trap.” She could feel Marie’s gloved hands digging into her arm almost hard enough to leave a mark. “What do you think he would say if I lured him into a side room and tied him up?”
“What in heaven’s name are you going on about?” The female whispered behind her fan. “You don’t tie up Abberton, do you?”
“Of course not…."Marie, who seemed to have been reduced to a giggling mess replied. "It’s just a silly thought.”
The woman lowered her fan ever so slightly, just enough to steal another glance. The earl’s emerald orbs remained not on her relative but on her. The blonde was walking directly toward them, intent on ignoring the multitude of women who seemed to throw themselves into his path.
“Did he know of your father?” Her cousin spoke, sounding quite confused. “He’s really looking at you.”
In all honesty, the female was just as confused. She was definitely not the kind of woman whom a man lost his head over. She was independent, headstrong, resilient and–as her cousin stated earlier–unusual among other ladies.
“If he was acquaintances with my father, he can pay me an afternoon call, as all his other friends.”
“You’d better leave unless you want to refuse him yourself;” Marie sighed softly. “Lady Parlow caught hold of his arm, but I’m sure he’ll be heading this way soon.”
The female surely did not want an encounter with the earl. He looked like a huntsman, walking across the ballroom in that gray coat in the pretense of being a gentleman–which he clearly was not.
Absolutely not.
She gave her sweet cousin a speedy peck on the cheek before setting out for the door. In a few moments, she picked up the pace almost leaping into the ballroom’s entryway with her skirts hiked up in both hands. Turning ever so slightly to squeeze between two gossiping individuals, she felt a hand around her elbow sending a shock of surprise up against her spine.
“May I help you?” She kept her tone cool as she turned towards the individual whose hand was holding unto her. She met the Earl of Kirkland’s bright eyes as she raised a delicate eyebrow. “You must have mistaken me for someone else,” A placid smile on her painted lips.
It was the first time that anyone has ever looked at her like that. Maybe the earl had mistaken her for a maiden that he had loved in his younger years.
“I am not mistaken,” Those emerald orbs were a vivid green, the colour of unearthed agate from the Achates River.
His voice caught her off guard because it was more deep and soothing than she would have imagined. He had the allure of a devious fox. In fact, he looked like one that was ready to pounce and devour its prey.
She was no fawn for any man’s expenditure. She came with no intention of acquiring a husband and thus, she shall leave with no lover either. She had no intention of bowing nor bending to the will of Arthur Kirkland.
“Pardon me,” The female could not hide the agitation in her voice as she gently pulled her arm from the blonde’s grip and briskly walked away.
Behind her was a moment of stillness. And then, to her panic, a soft chuckle of amusement before the said man continued on with his pursuit of her.