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My ears do not need to hear the mysterious song to know it is real,
For my eyes can see on her lovely face,
Through her smile of pure joy,
That the sound they make is quite musical indeed.
Our visit to your butterfly garden inspired me. The look on your face as you gazed upon your creation was that of wonderment and delight, the likes of which I have never seen before, and I long to see again.
Fondly,
Lord Alasdair Stewart
“Are you a slow reader, or is this the third time you’ve read it? Because I’m feeling my patience wear thin waiting for you to say something.”
“Oh Mary, I fear he has done it again.” I feel the weight of my shoulders drag my posture down.
“Done what? Is it all that bad?” There is genuine concern in her voice.
“Here,” I say, handing her the note. “You may see for yourself.”
And so, she does. Her free hand lifts to touch her mouth as a quiet, “Oh dear,” escapes on a full exhale. “Ella, why do you dislike this man so? From everything we have talked about, it seems there is a rather large piece of this puzzle that is missing. If it makes me more curious than a cat with nine lives, it has to make your parents wonder what is truly going on here.”
“I don’t know, Mary! I just…I just…He disconcerts me. That’s all. Does there need to be more?”
“No. Certainly not. But something tells me there is.” She waits patiently for me to break. But I don’t. I won’t. I simply can’t.
“Well, there isn’t.” There is no denying the doubt in my voice, and, thankfully, my dear cousin does not push any further. The direction of this conversation is beginning to make my head hurt.
“I suppose you will tell me when and if the time is right.” Her exaggerated wink makes me smile. “What do you think the chances are he will be at the Burtons’ little afternoon fete? My guess is one hundred percent yes!” Her throaty laugh echoes around the high ceilings. “Poor man, he will likely attend every social gathering big and small just to increase his chances of seeing his butterfly charmer again.”
“Mary, a butterfly charmer? There is no such thing. Lord Stewart’s imagination has gotten carried away with itself, I’m afraid.”
Tapping her chin, Mary disagrees. “I’m not so sure about that, Ella. I’ve been with you on your endless adventures in the woodland, and I must say, you have an uncanny way of attracting anything from a butterfly to a bunny. I’ve even seen deer walk up to you before! It’s like they are drawn to you somehow.”
I don’t respond because I’m struck by the truth in her words, which makes me wonder how Lord Stewart’s writing hits so close to home. No doubt he would say it has something to do with theconnectionhe insists is between us. The thought of this connection and how I feel when he is near and, God help me when he touches me have occupied my mind since his last visit. When I see him, I do not want to take my eyes off him. When he comes close, I find it hard to breathe, as if I am being squeezed too tightly. And when he touches me, even just the slightest contact, a vibrating heat races through my body, and I am suddenly back in the conservatory, only this time it is me, not the serving maid, being pleasured in ways I didn’t know were possible.
“Something tells me that whatever I am not supposed to know is going through your mind right at this moment. I don’t think I have ever seenthatlook on your face before.”
Sometimes I wonder if Mary is clairvoyant. Either that or I am simply an open book.
“Very funny. I am now worried that hewillbe at every social gathering, and I am trying to conjure excuses on how I can get away with not attending any of them.”
“Mm, you might get away with one. And you will have to pretend a terrible illness has come over you to make it successful. Otherwise, your mother will never let you miss an opportunity to show off your wealth and beauty. And besides, from the sound of her excitement overAlasdair’sinterest in you, she’s likely playing informant and telling him which of these gatherings to attend!”
The air huffs out of my chest as I lean back against my chair. “You’re right. She will do everything in her power to make sure I become the future Lady Galloway, whether I want it or not. Did I tell you she has confirmed his family’s wealth and makes it a daily topic of discussion?”
“You did. However, I’m not sure why that matters, considering your father’sandyour mother’s wealth. You could polish a street wretch into a prince with what you stand to inherit.”
“That was awfully callous, Mary.”
“Maybe so. But it’s true. And from the sound of it, your combined wealth—that is, if you actually marry this man who sounds perfect but isn’t because of some mysterious issue you won’t tell me about—would exceed that of the Royal Treasury. Although, if the king goes to war with France again, he’ll probably have to borrow money from you to keep up his and his sons’ pretty wardrobe.” Her face pinches in disapproval. Mary has always admired the distinguished wardrobe of a well-dressed man. However, as stated on many occasions, she is not attracted to prancing peacocks.
“How did we go from trying to avoid Lord Stewart at all costs to marrying him and supporting the king’s wardrobe? I amnotmarrying that man!”
“I’m not so sure, Ella. I have a feeling about this, and it—”
“Mary! Stop!” She tends to predict outcomes accurately, and marrying Lord Stewart is a prediction I’d rather avoid. “We are changing the subject. Since I can’t avoid the Burtons’ reception tomorrow, tell me what you plan to wear. Emerald green is always my favorite on you, but that is best for the evening. This is what I’ve decided on.” I stand and walk over to my dressing area where my gown hangs. Hopefully Mary stays on this topic for a while; it is one of her favorites, after all.
