Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I cut my gaze to see Ashington’s reaction to the less than proper side of Miss Bathurst. He was showing no appreciation in his facial expressions but then he rarely did. The man was as stodgy as our father had been.
“A lady is never sure who might call upon her,” Miriam replied demurely. She did that quite well, I realized. Maybe she could act the proper lady when she tried.
The tea arrived then and Lady Wellington began to chatter on nervously about the difference of biscuits and jam in England as that of the biscuits and jam in New Orleans. I took the moment to study my brother and see if he was preparing his leave. Surely after the short interaction here, he would be making his next stop to see Miss Ramsbury. Although, I hated to think this would be my last visit to 18 Mayfair. This was hands down the best time I’d experienced calling upon a lady, but then those were extremely limited visits. I did not make a habit of such behavior. Paris offered much more appealing options.
“Lord Radcliff to see Miss Bathurst,” the butler announced and all eyes turned as George Radcliff entered the room, carrying a bouquet of lilies. It would seem that Miriam Bathurst had made a good impression during their dance last night. Either that or Radcliff was up to his usual nosey ambitions.
Lady Wellington sprang from her spot on the settee and Miriam stood as well. “Welcome Lord Radcliff, we were just about to have tea. I will ring for an extra setting. Please join us.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ashington interrupted as he stood up. “I must be on my way. Radcliff may take my place,” he added then turned to Miriam. “Another time when you aren’t so… overwhelmed with visitors perhaps.”
Most ladies would do all they could to get Ashington to stay, but Miss Bathurst did not disappoint me. She simply nodded her head and smiled at him. “Of course,” she said simply. Then turned her attention to Radcliff and walked over to meet him halfway to accept the flowers and invite him to join us. My attention was on my brother, however, as he dealt with the gushing American aunt who didn’t seem sure if she should be concerned he was leaving or not.
Ashington could not get out of the drawing room fast enough and I leaned back in my chair feeling rather pleased with the whole situation. He wouldn’t be returning here. Although Miss Bathurst’s beauty was indeed something to admire, I knew my brother would not be able to accept her less than expected attentiveness to his presence. She had seemed almost relieved he was taking his leave. I took the cup of tea placed before me and hid my satisfied grin as I took a sip of the hot liquid.
My job here was done, with very little effort on my part. Miriam Bathurst and her aunt had handled it all too well. I might find reason to visit again just to enjoy their company. It was the most entertainment I’d had in London, and dare I admit, I didn’t find the need to escape clawing at me as I had in the past. Paris no longer seemed that intriguing.
Chapter Eight
Miss Miriam Bathurst
A stroll in the park with Mr. Compton was most likely a waste of an otherwise pleasant afternoon, but when he had inquired, Aunt Harriet had been so giddy with excitement, I feared she would cry in front of our guests if I made an excuse. Whereas Lord Ashington had not been able to escape my company fast enough, Mr. Compton had stayed while three other gentlemen had arrived with more flowers. It was only fair I accepted his offer for an afternoon stroll. Besides, being seen with him could only help my chances at finding a husband. He may not be an earl, but he was the second son of an earl.
I stood watching Aunt Harriet worry and fuss over my afternoon attire. I was positive this was not the beginning of a successful match. Although to convince Aunt Harriet of that would be rather difficult.
Mr. Compton had appeared too amused and relaxed during his visit to be considering a true courtship. At the moment, my aunt had three walking gowns spread across my bed as she bit her bottom lip worrisomely. They were all lovely gowns and I did not see why she must make such an event out of this.
“The green,” she said spinning around to look at me. “You will appear as a precious gem!” She clapped her hands together at the thought.
The green gown was indeed very fine, but my opinion was that I would match the grass and trees. Not that it mattered. This stroll was not as important as my aunt believed. I nodded in agreement, ready to get this over with. Fussing over a walking dress seemed silly but then it did give me more to write about in my next letter to Whitney. This morning had proven to fill at least two pages. Aunt Harriet had gone on and on about the fact both Lord Ashington and Mr. Compton had called upon me this morning. She thought it was a grand statement and that I was fortunate. Luck must have shined upon me, she had gushed.