The Gentleman of Greenstoke

XX.

Without knocking, Arthur entered the drawing room, his face rosy due to his embarrassment of opening the door in a rushed manner. He could already feel the curious eyes on him – only to find that he was alone in the room. The British man exited it again in order to find his butler who could give him more details of the disappeared party.

"They are in the garden, Sir."

"Oh, Thank you," the English man answered before walking to his next destination, not noticing the knowing grin that was gracing his butler's face. Every servant in the Kirkland household was aware of their master's emotions. They were excited, for they had never seen this before, the nervousness in his voice, his longing glances towards the Japanese guest. The servants were all content and every evening in their kitchen, they would wager when he would finally admit his feelings towards her. They even made bets on Mr Beilschmidt and his confession for Elizabeta – whom of course was not aware of her colleagues' newest hobby.

Arthur took a few steps before his eyes caught another group approaching his house: the Beilschmidt siblings and their Austrian cousin. Even if they were his friends, the English man was extremely annoyed; he wanted to privately speak with Miss Honda and now he had to share her with the others . . . Again. "What the deuce," he cursed under his breath, before walking towards them to greet them properly – as a gentleman he was still obliged to fulfil the rules of society, even if the moment his friends decide to visit him was poorly chosen.

Away from the new approaching visitors, Sakura sat on a bench with her Greek acquaintance and her uncle – who was keeping his distance from them. She had been excited when he had called on them, but an odd feeling was dominating her body as she remembered the moment they had sat in the drawing room together. The female reflected on the part where Mr Kirkland had left the drawing room in an extremely annoyed manner, and she could not fathom what had urged him to do so. Since the last evening, their relationship was rather tense. But he had openly asked her what she thought of him; she felt mocked by his odd approach but now she thought that he had meant otherwise.

"I sincerely want to apologise for yesterday's evening."

She focused on the man next to her, his green eyes soothing, although they were not the green eyes she had wished to look at so closely.

"Apologise?" she asked, uncertain of the meaning of his statement.

"Yes, for Mr Adnan's behaviour . . . Although I can comprehend his fascination with you," he resumed with a gentle smile.

That compliment flattered her; her red cheeks deepened as they heard an argument nearby.

Arthur's jaw clenched as he detected Miss Honda. He thought that he needed to approach her as quickly as possible; the man needed to solve the misunderstanding that had pushed her into the arms of Mr Karpusi. He would not bear the sight of those two together. Next to him were Gilbert and his cousin discussing last night's dances. The two had started the conversation in a gentle manner before it had escalated into an argument. At first Roderich had complimented the ball room's decorations, before he changed the topic to his wonderful Hungarian dancer. Gilbert agreed with the terms of her being absolutely beautiful, but as his Austrian cousin commented on his idea of being more suitable for her as a dance partner, Gilbert became angry.

"I am far more qualified to be her partner," the Prussian defended himself before his cousin merely smiled.

"Such an ignorant man like you?"

"What did you say?"

Meanwhile, Ludwig was accompanying them, thinking of why he had greed on joining them; not only were his family members having a public row, but the man they wanted to visit was far from being delighted. Mr Kirkland's forehead was adorned with a furrow, while his eyes displayed all his negative emotions. Ludwig was certain that the English man was even capable of giving the flowers in the garden a death threat. All the German could think of was the question of why he had not decided to remain at home and read a book – in silence, far away from the trouble in front of him.