Pinch of Arsenic

Chapter 9

"Well." Lavinia's chirpy and confident nature returned with the newfound news. "I was around the area and decided to deliver this personally."

As she handed the piece of parchment, her fingers met his, just for a second.

Her breath hitched, but she quickly hid it with a smile, "It's an invitation, for Saturday. I'm hosting a dinner and would love for you to come. Both of you."

Leaning over to read the invitation in Ansel's hand, Rebecca asked, "Who else will be there, if you don't mind me asking, my lady."

Lavinia did not mind and listed the ladies and gentlemen who had been invited, "I also invited Lady Grace."

Rebecca, visibly excited, asked about the gentlemen and whether they were kind or married or rude. Lavinia answered every question with amusement while Ansel studied Lavinia. Bewitched by her eyes and lips, he simply could not stop staring or look away.

"We're going, right, brother?" When Ansel didn't answer, Rebecca kicked him under the desk and repeated louder, "Right, brother?"

He blinked rapidly and escaped his reverie, "What did you say?
The annoyed sister huffed, "I said that you are free this Saturday, right?"

"I- I believe so."

Lavinia stood up, ready to take her leave.

"I really do hope you can make it. I'll leave you to do your work now." She turned to Rebecca. "It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Linton."

Ansel said, "Have a good rest of your day, Lady Lavinia."

"You, too."

And with that, she closed the door. Once her footsteps faded, Rebecca tore the invitation from Ansel.

"It was her, wasn't it," she accused, "the one you were staring at the ball. Do you fancy her?"

"Of course, not," he stammered.

"I saw how you were staring at her just now, Ansel. Do you like her... romantically?"

"Maybe." He looked down at his antsy hands. "A little."

"You can't do that," Rebecca chided, "she's to be a marchioness. We don't even have a title."

"I know." He had just come to term with his feelings and now he had to ignore them. "I'm sure I'll forget about her soon."

Rebecca did not believe him but continued helping organize regardless.

Later, once in the privacy of Lavinia's carriage, Eleanor asked, "Are you pursuing the detective, my lady? I had been merely jesting this morning."

"No." Lavinia raised her chin slightly. "The dinner is simply a friendly gathering."

The maid squinted, "I know that head of yours, my lady. You will eventually spill your feelings to him. I'm surprised you did not do so when you were drunk last night."

"Tipsy," Lavinia corrected, "not drunk."'

"Will Lord Rutherford be of attendance then, considering what an attentive friend he has been."

"You know what, Eleanor? I love talking, and talking about myself in many cases, but I'm quite tired. I think I'm going to take a nap."

"Oh, of course, my lady." Eleanor conceded, although she knew that meant no, Lavinia had not invited Lord Rutherford.

Lavinia then rested her head on the cushioned back. Closing her eyes, she pretended to sleep, but Ansel roamed freely in her mind. What a relief that he had no lover or beau.