The Young Gentleman's Guide to Courtship
By A. Swindon.
Printed & Bound in London by J. Johnson & Sons
19 April, Late morning. — It's Father's idea that I go to the Sellings' for elevenses. I'm not exactly opposed to it, although there's probably other things I would much rather be doing. Yet Father insists, and so I go. After all, when I told him Solomon Selling had given me his approval on his family's behalf, he actually encouraged me — something I'm not used to.
It's my idea that we go out for a walk afterward. For one thing, I'm irritated by Cornelius's constant prattling about things he knows nothing about. My temples begin to throb when the younger relatives finish their tea and biscuits, and start a game of hide-and-go-seek around the dining room. And between the two Selling brothers and their wives, I don't know who's more boring.
But now, as we walk towards the Mall and St James's Park, with Wells skulking along behind us, I can feel my spirits lifting. It's no mystery why I'm glad he's here, and I intend to tell him so before it's too late.
"Oh, look." Marjorie points to a man wheeling a cart topped with a striped umbrella down the path just inside the park. "Kettle corn. Shall we get some?"
"Why not." I shrug. The only thing I'd eaten back at the Selling house was a cucumber sandwich and a slice of biscotti. Marjorie, who'd been seated next to me, hadn't touched a crumb of anything.
We continue down the Mall until we turn into the park at Marlborough Road. I'm reminded suddenly of Lily Kirkland as Marjorie tugs me towards the lake with our elbows linked. Even after her polite conversation with Wells I can tell she's put off by him — but perhaps that's because he won't stop glowering.
"I hope you don't mind my feeding the ducks while we're here," Marjorie says, finally letting go of me as we step onto the bridge.
"I'm certain they won't mind it," I answer, and that seems to appease her for the moment. I drop back to walk next to Wells. "Will you stop glaring at her?"
"I can't help it. She's not very endearing to me." He narrows his eyes.
"At least get rid of that scowl." I nod in Marjorie's direction. "It's making her nervous."
"Do you care for her?" he asks, with no warning.
"I'm sorry?" That question throws me for a moment.
"I mean do you care about her? Have any feelings?"
I take a deep breath. "If you mean romantic feelings..."
"Yes. That is what I mean."
I watch her, tossing the remnants of her kettle corn to the ducks. Besides our plans to see the continent under the pretence of courtship, I didn't see our future going further. I could never have Cornelius as a brother-in-law, especially if he manages to find someone as detestable as him.
"If you want my honest answer, no," I say. "I've got no intentions with her."
"Then what are you doing with her?" Wells presses. "Surely you're not still trying to please your father. After what we've found out."
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