Lou sat in the drawing room across from her mother. It had started to rain, and she was disappointed she couldn't go out to draw. Instead, she thought she would settle down and do some embroidery. That'll keep her mind off that handsome man from yesterday. George. George what? She wondered.
No sooner had she picked up her embroidery needle, she heard hoofbeats approaching the front of the house. "That's strange, we weren't expecting visitors were we mother?"
Her mother looked up from her newspaper and said "No, perhaps it is the late post?" Lou doubted that; they very rarely got morning post, never mind late post. Not since her father had died anyway.
A few moments later, she heard the voice so obviously belonging to George from the daisy field. She gathered her embroidery and stuffed it underneath the nearest cushion just before their butler entered the room and announced, "Mr. St. Austell, ma'am."
St. Austell? From the Manor? Good Lord, she thought. He must be one of the dukes' sons. And she'd been laughing with him on the grass. She felt mortified.
George St. Austell swept into the room, went straight for her mother and took her hand and kissed it. "Mrs. Summers, how lovely to meet you," she bobbed a curtsey and then introduced her daughter.
"Miss Summers," he kissed her hand too, "delighted." Lou tried in vain to stop the blush from tinging her cheeks.
Her mother ordered tea and then directed him to take a seat. "Not there!" Lou shouted with alarm, before retrieving her embroidery from beneath the cushion. She looked up embarrassed, but George was trying hard not to smirk. He finally took his seat. She placed her embroidery on the unoccupied side of the settee she was sitting on.
"I have recently returned from London and heard you had moved here during my absence."
Lou's mother replied, "It is very good of you to pay a call Mr. St. Austell."
"I can only apologise that I have not come sooner." Mrs. Summers blushed.
There was a moments silence while the tea was brought in and laid down on the table in front of them all.
"I was sad to hear I would be unable to meet Mr. Summers. I'm terribly sorry for your loss." He directed that at them both.
Mrs. Summers' mouth tightened, and sadness crept into her eyes. Their marriage must have been a love match, he considered.
Sensing the mood change, Lou gathered her courage and directed a change in the conversation. "What brings you back here, Mr. St. Austell?" then thought about what she had just said and hastily added, "not here, here. I mean what brought you back to your home?" Stop making a fool of yourself Lou, she said to herself.
"I simply grew tired of London, I'm afraid," and then with a cheeky grin aimed at the mother, "or maybe London grew tired of me."
Was he flirting with my mother? Lou tried not to look aghast, or jealous. The whole night before she had been going over the events of yesterday, remembering how he had stared at her eyes, hastily retreated when she'd mock-curtseyed to him. Did I imagine something that wasn't there? She thought to herself. She quickly said, "Do you know, I've never been to London. I'd love to see it one day, where would you recommend visiting Mr. St. Austell?"
"Well, there are the various palaces of course, the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens are splendid too. And of course, there are many beautiful parks that I'm sure would keep you sketching for hours." He quickly realised his mistake and pointed to a nearby open sketchbook, "I presume you are the artist? Or am I mistaken, is it you Mrs. Summers?"
Good save, thought Lou. It was nice to see the shoe was on the other foot though and she wasn't the only one to have faltered.
"Oh no, I'm not creative at all, I'm afraid. Louisa is the talented one in our family."
"May I see your sketches, Miss Summers?"
There must have been a butterfly in her stomach because it leapt when she saw the genuine interest in his eyes. Those gorgeous dark brown eyes. Lou turned away before she could stare at those eyes and collected one of her many sketchbooks. She selected one where all her drawings were complete and handed it to him.
He fingered the pages carefully and studied her drawings with intrigue. He saw frogs, butterflies, birds and even some woodland creatures, all drawn with such meticulous detail. "My word, Miss Summers. These are exceptional."
Lou couldn't help but smile, but before she could thank him, he said, "Do you take commissions, Miss Summers?"
She was dumbstruck. "I'm sorry?"
"It's just that I was thinking of having my father's dog painted as a birthday gift, but I do believe one of your drawings would be so much better." In truth, George didn't think his father was particularly keen on the dog, but they didn't need to know that. He just wanted a reason to be able to see her again.
"Well," Lou said slowly and turned to look at her mother, "I suppose I could?" She silently asked for permission.
Seeing the doubt form in Mrs. Summers' mind, George quickly spoke, "Might I make a suggestion," the ladies both nodded, "would you care to come up to the Manor and take tea?" he said this to Mrs. Summers to make sure she knew she was also invited. "And while you're there, Miss Summers could sketch Lucy?" A curious expression came across Mrs. Summers' face and George added, "Lucy is the dog."
Mrs. Summers made a look as if to say, "of course I knew that." But instead, she replied "we'd be delighted Mr. St. Austell."
"Splendid," George exclaimed as he stood up out of his chair, "then it's settled. Would tomorrow suit?"
Mrs. Summers affirmed that it would indeed suit, and he bent to take her hand. "Mrs. Summers." He kissed it once more, and then turned his attention to Lou. He, too, took her hand and said "Miss Summers," before placing a kiss on her hand, and lingered a little longer but not scandalously so, "until tomorrow." And with that, he left the room.
Lou was a little shaken, the conversation had happened so quickly and then ended so abruptly she scarcely knew what had just occurred. She was brought back to her senses very quickly when she sat down and shrieked. She had sat on her embroidery needle.
YOU ARE READING
Writing to my Love
RomanceGeorge wants to leave and fight for his country, he doesn't want to marry for wealth like his father wants him to do and he certainly doesn't want to be wasting his time with ladies he's not interested in marrying. But then he meets Lou, who is so v...