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)
Thoughts of Whitney were gone as I became acutely aware of his nearness and the darkness surrounding us. Although Aunt Harriet was on my other side, it suddenly felt as if we were doing something improper. We weren’t, of course, but my cheeks burned regardless. I was thankful for the darkness, so he couldn’t see my reaction to his attention. Why wasn’t he watching the performance as was everyone else? Wasn’t that why someone attended the opera? To watch the performance?
“It’s remarkable, isn’t it?” Aunt Harriet whispered close to my ear, causing me to jump.
I started to turn so that I may reply but not before I saw the amused smile on Lord Ashington’s face. It wasn’t at all like him. Nothing about that smile was stiff or unapproachable. It wasn’t forced but so very real. His eyes twinkled and he appeared years younger in that moment. How often did he smile that way? I was sure I had never witnessed it, not even when he was busy charming Lydia Ramsbury, not that I paid close enough attention to be sure, of course.
I felt my own smile spread across my lips in that moment and my chest felt funny. A little tug or maybe a touch of warmth. It was a strange new sensation I didn’t quite know how to categorize and I wasn’t sure the exact way to describe it. Whatever it was, there was something there in the moment I wasn’t prepared for, but it excited me and possibly frightened me at the very same time. Lord Ashington was not a man in whom I should let my guard down and begin to feel things for… was he? How sure of his attentions could I be?
When I finally broke his gaze, and turned to my aunt, she studied me but a moment, then she grinned saucily. “Well, if I didn’t know better, Miriam Bathurst, I would think you were smitten,” she whispered.
My smile vanished then and I instantly frowned. “I am not smitten,” I assured her. I wasn’t a silly girl. One did not get smitten by a smile. It took more depth than that. I was more careful. There was a level of rejection I had suffered in my life that no other rejection could dare compare. It had made me tough and it had made me cautious. I wasn’t sure I would ever allow myself to truly be smitten for the simple fact I didn’t trust people. My father made sure of that.
Aunt Harriet wiggled her eyebrows then turned her attention back to the reason we were here. Unable to look back at Lord Ashington now, I did as well. Tonight had been meant to appease Aunt Harriet. It hadn’t been meant for more. Yet, here I was, thinking possibly I had been wrong about Lord Ashington. There was more to the earl than he allowed the world to see. I just couldn’t be sure I was brave enough to find out his depth. If he was closed off to protect himself then that I understood completely. For he had no idea the lengths I would go to in order to protect myself. Maybe it was we were kindred spirits and nothing more. What an interesting thought.
The beauty on stage eventually enraptured me and when the curtain call came, I realized I had forgotten Lord Ashington and my aunt. I’d been completely focused on the music. The lights were dim and slowly rising as I took a deep breath and turned to Lord Ashington.
“Thank you for inviting us tonight. This was truly a remarkable view,” I told him honestly.
“Yes, I have never seen an opera from such a grand station,” my aunt added, sounding pleased.
“It was my pleasure, ladies. I do hope you both will attend with me again. I don’t believe I’ve ever enjoyed the opera as much as I did tonight.”
His words again made me question their truth, although his eyes seemed so sincere. I wanted to believe he wasn’t just being charming but honest as well. However, he had spent the last week with another lady on his arm and next week, it may very well yet another.
“That’s very flattering, my lord,” I replied.
“It’s the truth, Miss Bathurst,” he said simply then held his arm out for me to take.
Chapter Fifteen
Nicholas Compton
“Your rose garden is truly one to be envied, Lady Ramsbury,” I said as Lydia and I walked farther away from her mother, who was sitting on a bench under the shade.
“Tis my mother’s garden, Mr. Compton. Not mine. I know little when it comes to flowers or shrubbery,” she demurred.
When I had arrived to call upon her this morning, she had been busy with needlework, sitting just so the sunlight shone upon her making her pale hair appear as if she were angelic. It was well thought out and placed. I had wondered who had thought of it, her or her mother. It was clear they both were aware my brother had taken Miriam Bathurst to the opera last night.