I SPENT my days, reading away in the Library. Escaping into the pages of an intriguing story was just what I needed. I especially enjoyed the peace away from the girls. I vowed to not subject myself to their provoking comments anymore. They were all in the drawing room, carrying out their daily activities.Yesterday I was finally able to write a letter to Papa, explaining everything. My emotions had been too heavy for me to write anything. But I missed him dearly, and I am finally at a place of ease.
The internal downpour had finally letup.
"You have a visitor," Astrid appeared in the doorway. A wicked smile slithered on her lips, and I shut my book with furrowed brows.
Could it be who I thought it was?
"Come!" She beamed, motioning toward herself. Her kindness was all too transparent at this point in time. But I stood from my chair and followed behind her. My heart couldn't help but to pound with heavy anticipation.
In the Drawing Room, I was met with Lady Stratford and the girls. They looked out of the window with an expectancy, watching a black carriage on the gravelly pathway.
"Mamma," Astrid's hands were squirming with out of excitement. A spout of fear coursed through me at the sight. What good could come out of her happiness in my behalf?
"Ah here you are," Lady Stratford turned to face me, "Your admirer has come to visit you.'
"A-admirer?"
Alaina met my puzzled gaze. She shook her head with a warning countenance.
"From your ball of course," Abigail sang dreamily, "Mr. - "
"Kingman," His name tumbled out of my mouth as I watched him step out of the carriage, "No!"
"Whatever do you mean by no?" Lady Stratford's face twisted unpleasantly.
"I have no desire to see this ma-"
"Oh shut up and get in your place," Lady Stratford yanked my arm with force. She had the strength of a magnetic pull! My chest heaved in anger as I regained myself. Astrid, Abigail and Alaina lined up beside me.
The door swung open and in he walked with a confident stride. Mr. Simon greeted him and took his belongings.
"Mr. Kingman! So lovely to see you again," Lady Stratford stepped forward with a bright smile. I stood with my fists balled at my sides.
"Likewise my lady," He enthused. "But I can not describe my elations from receiving Ms. Andrews' letter."
My jaw dropped at his words. Suddenly my blood was boiling hot. I did not write him!
"Greetings young ladies," He bowed his head at the girls. Then he locked his eyes with mine. Oh how I forgot about those dark, brooding eyes.
He ambled closer and I attempted to calm my whirling anger, "What a pleasure to be in your presence Ms. Andrews. I have not been able to shake you from my mind since we danced."
"Is that so?" I forced my lips into a smile.
"Indeed I have," Mr. Kingman gently wrapped his hand around my balled fist. I released the tension in my hand at his clamy touch. I watched as he brought my hand up to his lips, pressing a small kiss against it.
I was afraid I was grimacing at the unwanted gesture. By the way Lady Stratford was staring at me, I knew I was. I quirked my lips up into another smile.
"I was hoping you may join me this afternoon for a picnic, maybe a lovely stroll in the garden after," He searched my eyes with expectancy. I could feel the girls' and Lady Stratford burning holes into my side from their pointed stares as well.
I was completely cornered.
No good would come out of either an acceptance or decline of this invitation. Precisely the way Lady Stratford intended it to happen. I had no idea she had such willingness to stoop this low. My patience to weather this woman was thinning. But again - I knew I could not show an ounce of it.
That would be their victory, and my grand demise.
"Very well," I nodded.
"I shall be the chaperone!" Abigail clapped jovially.
*
The shade of the huge tree we were sat under, gave a cool breeze. My legs were folded on the side of my body as I rose my teacup to my lips. Abigail sat across from me on the thin, pale yellow blanket.
I was certain my face had gone numb from my incessant smiling. The last half hour of time has been filled with none other than Mr. Kingman speak of . . . Mr. Kingman himself. A complete dandy he is!
However, Abigail hung on to every word intently, as he drawled on with countless self righteous tales. To say I was paying attention would be a lie. I only portrayed myself to be invested in the nonsense.
My mind kept traveling back to the night we first met, at my ball. His effortless charm would color my cheeks red. In no way did he portray himself to be this way. Then I was reminded of the way Christopher looked at me.
An unfamiliar type of chills had ran down my spine.
But it was only because he had not come to the realization that he loved me. I restrained myself from reminiscing any further. I was on a dangerous path I vowed to never travel down.
"Oh Mr. Kingman, however are you so talented!" Abigail slapped a hand to her chest in amazement.
"Oh why thank you Lady Abigail. My ability to be swift on my feet has done me a great deed," He thrived off of her constant attention.
"But oh love," He focused on me, "You must come see me fence one day."
"Perhaps," I nodded, hoping Abigail would chime in again to take his eyes off of me.
But he held his focus, "Is it any more possible for you to look so angelic in this natural light?"
I finished my last spot of tea and set my cup down rather abruptly. I tried to mask the slightly aggressive action with a wide smile.
"You will have to excuse me, Mr. Kingman, " I rose to my feet and stalked off into the distance, toward the estate.
"Will you return shortly, my love?" He called after me. However, I pretended not to hear him as I furthered away.
No wonder Christopher has no liking for that man!
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A/N - votes/comments are much appreciated! x
~ KVH
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DELLA
Historical Fictionhighest rank: #1 in Clean & Elegant Della Andrews. Rosy cheeks and a voice softer than silk. When her father is forced to work overseas, he arranges for her to stay with her cousins, who she has never met before. There in London, she is thrust i...