Two Loves

Chapter 23

TW: Homophobia. This is the 1890's, what did you expect.

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ISAAC

It started off so well.

The guests are still chatting in the salon when Atticus brings me in, and all are so engaged in conversation that they don't notice me at first. The room is moderately crowded with lowly chattering people holding glasses. Rich people. Glittering people. My collar seems to get more narrow. I count around twenty of them, and most of them must be friends or acquaintances of Atticus' mother, so the majority of the ladies in this room could be her.

"Who is y- Lady Montague?" I ask promptly and stretch my head to overlook the salon, searching for the lady of the house.

"Over there" Atticus answers, "in white, talking with the woman with the feathers in hair."

In this moment, said woman turns around, catches my eye, apologizes to the lady she talked with and makes her way towards us. I stiffen.

"Don't worry", my friend - unsuccessfully - tries to calm me. "She will like you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I like you." Yes, that does sound convincing. But his confident, optimistic tone makes up for it. A little. God, she is coming to us. Think straight, Isaac, think straight.

"Mother, this is the Isaac Haywood I told you about."

She, having approached us, gives us both a smile. "A pleasure to finally meet you. Atticus has already told me so much about you."
Lady Apollonia Montague is a tall woman of some fifty years. Unlike other dames, she does admit that she can age older than forty-five, and doesn't try to conceal that her tightly curled, dark hair is greying. I think her really enormous nose - which Atticus, luckily, didn't inherit - taught her that all features can be virtues. In fact, it gives her an air of antique royalty. Faint wrinkles stretching over the brow and surrounding the grey eyes show a calm and thoughtful temper. I understand why Atticus values her opinion so much. If I would portray her, she would be an allegory of justice and mercy, with the noble courage of endurance.

Great, so no pressure at all. If she doesn't like me, all of this will get a lot more difficult. Hastily remembering my good manners, I bow down to kiss her hand, what she acknowledges with a benevolent nod.

"He only told good things, I hope" I say with a bashful smile. "It is an honour, Lady Montague. Please apologize my delay - it was most unfortunate."

"Don't worry. I am very excited to hear more from you. Atticus normally never introduces his friends to me - they just mysteriously appear in the library, don't they, Atticus?" She laughs when her son rolls his eyes.

"Mother, please!"

"It is quite true, quite true - but I guess you haven't told Mr. Haywood, so I will not repeat it - don't roll your eyes like that, I know that you are fond of him - I am just pleased to meet you." She claps her hands and raises her voice. The chattering dies down before I can ask Atticus what incident she is referring to. He just shakes his head with a silent, embarrassed 'please-do-not-ask'-smile.

"Now that all are gathered, we should go to the dining room. I fear Scott is already becoming nervous. Ladies and gentlemen -" and Lady Montague beckons us to follow her.

Atticus brushes his hand against mine as he walks past me, and looks over his shoulder to make sure that I am following him. I have to stifle a laugh.

"I am quite capable of walking by myself" I mutter towards him. "I have a cold, not the Plague."

"You certainly look as if you've got the Plague" he gives back and stop to let a gentleman with impressive beard through. "I'm getting worried about you."