Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
He was? I smile to myself. Of course he was. I knew Porter’s ego would help me in this instance. I hope it continues to help.
‘And what is the story?’ Lymington asks.
‘About the Winters.’
‘The Winters?’ Lymington blurts. ‘But they are dead.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Father muses, increasing the curiosity of Lymington, which, of course, is the whole, point, isn’t it? But this is not gossip. This is a mystery to be solved, and everyone loves a good mystery.
Lymington points his cane and walks on, and without a second glance, Father follows, leaving me alone with… Frederick. This here, this stoic, rigid, unfriendly looking gentleman is my suitor? God forbid, I will not have it. I watch my father lead Lymington away and my mother move in closer with Clara, who looks persistently and annoyingly awed by her surroundings, as Mama’s attention is split between me and various ladies she’s conversing with. I catch Clara’s eye and blow out my cheeks, a sign of my exasperation, and despite her blissful ignorance, she manages to appear as disappointed as I feel. What am I to do with this? I look at Frederick, and an unbearably awkward silence falls. A whole minute of silence. I smile, he smiles, I look around the hall, so does he, and I smile again. So does he.
‘How old are you?’ I eventually blurt, unable to bear it a moment longer.
He blinks rapidly. ‘Twenty-four.’
Twenty-four? Why on earth isn’t Frederick already married? Good heavens, my stark reality is becoming starker. ‘I am nineteen.’ I look over my shoulder, seeing Mama still watching over me, and she smiles the kind of smile that tells me she’s in as much pain as I am. Then why?
‘Would you like to see the gardens?’ Frederick asks.
I whirl round far quicker than I mean to and lose my footing, the stupid dress hindering my attempts to save myself. I stumble towards him, but rather than catch me, he moves aside and lets me fall to the floor in a heap. The gasps of shock ring loud, even over the music, and I stare down at the beautiful mosaic detail of the grand hall floor, feeling shame creeping up on me.
‘You let me fall,’ I say, sounding as accusing as I meant to. He could have saved me this potential humiliation, but he did not. He let me tumble because, God forbid, he can’t be seen to touch me after we’ve barely been introduced.
I peek left and right, finding all eyes on me, and, my jaw tight, my throat thick, I get to my feet in as ladylike a manner as I can and brush myself down. ‘I think I will take that walk,’ I say, my eyes low, my feet moving fast to remove me from the attention. ‘Alone.’ My heart pounds as I make my escape, the pressure on my chest unbearable. I can hardly breathe, and this stupid dress is not helping.
A few ladies jump from my path, shocked, and I arrive outside, dragging in air urgently. I am a lady hurrying, and I am alone, and every footman, servant and guest is looking at me in alarm. My humiliation grows like unwanted, out-of-control ivy.
Someone stops beside me, and I look up. ‘Let us walk,’ Frank says quietly, nodding at my audience and leading the way. I fall into stride beside my brother, my eyes flitting, ensuring we are alone before I speak.
‘I will run away,’ I say surely, clasping my hands in front of me.
‘And join the circus?’
‘If I must,’ I retort. ‘Being caged with a man-eating lion somehow feels more appealing than enduring the simplicities of the ladies and lords.’
‘Must you always be so unreasonable?’
‘Must you always be so upbeat?’ I ask, shifting my stay again as we wander through two lines of trees, all the same size, same shade of green, and all equally positioned. They are nothing like the woodlands I cantered through daily. Messy. Unpredictable. Wild. ‘Did you see him? My suitor?’
‘I think every guest in the Grand Hall saw him, Eliza. He was the man who appeared frozen by embarrassment while you glared at the poor fellow.’
‘Poor fellow? What about me? It was me on my knees. He could have saved me, and he did not. I hardly want to be married at all, least of all to a man who won’t save me if I fall.’
‘I know not a lot, but I know my sister does not need saving by a man.’ Frank turns a small smile onto me. ‘We must do what we must do.’
I sigh. ‘I want the right to say no. I want to be taken seriously, Frank.’ Imagine that. A world where we can say no.
Frank chuckles. ‘Your imagination is wild.’
I snort. I could show him. Show everyone. But I know I am living in a time when, really, my dreams are quite laughable. Pity for me.