Moth Among Butterflies

CHAPTER II

It was when Esther inquired of his well-being that it reached the duke of Devonshire's understanding. The pad was used for writing her thoughts when a conversation arises. She was mute. He could not fathom how such a person could be related to a hooligan as the man from the coffeehouse. And when he asked her about it, she scribbled that the man is 'a friend she had helped once'. After a small talk from a while ago, he agreed that she give her a tour of the town (although he has been there several times for business). She concluded that he was a groom, and is new to the town. Oddly enough, he agreed to her companionship without question to continue with this groom charade. He found this event perplexing and exciting at the same time. This was a queer way of making aquaintance of someone!

She pulled him into a building that was the library, and there she greeted the old librarian with a huge generous hug. She looked to the duke's direction with a huge smile and waved her hand, inviting him to come to her.

"Ah, a groom I see." the librarian said, squinting at the duke while fixing his glasses. "I am Harold Brooks at your service. Had to introduce myself, for as you can see this darling here" he patted her head; "cannot do that." Esther smiled excitedly before scribbling on her pad.

'I'll tour him in town.'

"A newcomer!"

"Yes, sir. Seth-" Cavendish? Should he give his true name? But being a little informal like this is very refreshing. "Green. Seth Green, sir."

"Seth, eh? Ha! Enough with this tiresome introductions. Go on dear Esther and take the man out, and have fun! Whyever did you stop by here for?"

Esther scribbled again, but as she did so, Cavendish took an interest to the pen she used. It ws no quill at all. A nib was attached to a small stick that seems to have a lid on top. Aren't metal nibs such as that only used by the upper class? Why does she have one if she's a mere waitress?

'I need to refill' was what she wrote down before leaving her post to Brook's desk.

"You find the pen odd?" Brooks broke his line of thought, noticing his fixed stare upon the pen Esther was holding.

"Ah, yes. Quite." the duke answered. This woman just keeps getting more interesting by the moment!

"That is a contraption Philip made for her since I forgot when."

"Philip, sir?"

"Oh!" For a moment, Cavendish saw panic in his eyes, and his body became fidgety as if he was caught redhanded on something. "Er, her friend that is. Philip is her friend. Have you found the ink bottle, dear?" He immediately retreated from the duke to aid Esther who was already closing the lid of the pen after pouring a certain amout of ink into the stick. Who is Philip really? Why did the man's name cause a stir in the librarians once jolly countenance? Lost in his thoughts, he was startled by Esther's sudden grip on his wrist, leading him out for the tour.

The rest of the day was spent by trying out different types of food in the market and walking by the nearby riverbank. The duke never had such a refreshing day out in his life! Several servings in the market were even better than his gourmet back in Derbyshire! He did not know if it was only him or if it was because of his stimulating company. Esther had no prejudices whatsoever to the people that surrounded her. She had a very happy disposition, and her smiles are contagious. She did not have the restriction of propriety in her, no pretentious behavior. She held his hand and pulled him close when need be- especially when the crowd grows in number- without thinking of what other people's opinion of her would be. And he did not reject her touch. In fact, he held her hand in return! It just felt natural to him like he had known her for a long time.

"Esther." He called her name before pressing his lips to a thin line. He was still not used to calling a lady by her first name, for he was conditioned to be proper at all times. "Will it be alright if we sit down a while? My head is giving me the devils."

Esther turned to the man beside her with the look of disquietude, and without a moment's notice, she had reached for the temples of his head and massaged it in a circular motion. She did not know what she has done to him. His cheeks went hot and came a pinkish coloring for a blush. His heart pounded in his chest by the sudden exertion of the woman!

She was concentrating on his head, giving him ample time to observe that her eyes were dark brown orbs where he can see his own reflection. Her skin, though freckled didn't look 'ugly' as to how the ton would put it. There was no shade of rogue whatsoever on her lips, and she wore no make-up unlike those young debutantes he used to meet. As her mouth slightly parted in concentration, he saw the gap between her teeth. He smiled in silent enjoyment and wondered why these tiny quirks of the woman seemed homely to him. But his thoughts were disturbed when Esther had finished the massage and pulled him to a nearby bench. She pushed his shoulder down so that he would sit down. He wondered why he just gave in to whatever her action commanded him.

"Esther, what-" Before Cavendish could finish his sentence, Esther had cupped his cheek with both her hands as she looked at him in worry. He almost puked his heart out at the sudden action! Thunder an' turf, mercy on his pounding heart!

'You are red, are you feeling fine.'

Esther flashed the pad for the duke to see being the only thing that removed his stares at his companion.

"Er, yes. I'm fine."

She cupped his right cheek again, checking his temperature. The duke was not able to be master of his body anymore when he held the hand on his cheek. She looked at him in pure concern for his well-being. Something that not a single woman of his aquaintance, with the exemption of his mother, has ever done.

Esther sat beside him. She looked at him in solicitude and patted her shoulder. She wanted him to rest his head on her shoulder! Cavedish was speechless. Did she disregard propriety wholly? But before he could protest, Esther hald pulled his head gently to her shoulders and patted it for a while until, giving up all thoughts of protest, the duke let himself fall asleep.