“Who was it?” Mary, a friend of ours, asked the next day. We were strolling through town. Margaret was in the ribbon shop, burning a hole through her pocket. The sky was a little clearer today, but not by much.
“We’ve no idea,” Emma said. “Such a shock it was to see anyone there!”
“Do you think he was there with the same purpose we had? Wanting to get a closer look at the estate?” I wondered aloud. Emma and Mary agreed that that was a possibility. Still, the gentlemen had acted as if he had entitlement to the grounds.
Mary was almost as tall as Emma, with the same blonde hair, though hers was much curlier. She lived at the boarding school, with no family connections of which to speak. Emma , who usually surrounded herself with a higher class crowd, had taken a liking to Mary and had, therefore, taken her under her wing.
“Look,” Margaret rushed towards us. “Feel the softness of this fabric.”
“Yes, it is lovely,” Mary said, managing to hide most of her regret for not being able to afford such niceties.
I started to bite my tongue, but this sentiment did not last long. “Impractical, though. You already have a ribbon for every dress you own. And Emma and I were discussing yesterday the lack of imminent occasions to adorn such an item.”
“Oh, Elizabeth,” she rolled her eyes.
“Well, I just think you could be using the bit of money Father sometimes gives each of us for something more worthwhile.”
“A book to hide my nose in?” she asked, pointedly.
“Or at least a new dress, which would soon give reason to buying a new ribbon to match,” Emma laughed.
Emma and Mary soon fell into conversation as we headed back up the road towards home. We would drop Mary off on the way. This left me to listen to Margaret, who was a constant reminder of how dull every day life had become. She was fast becoming Mother.
“Ah, what luck that I should happen upon the most beautiful young ladies this side of London!”
“Oh, good day, Kevin! You have not been by to see us as of late,” Emma pouted playfully.
He nodded. “I have been out of town, visiting my brother. He shall be a father soon.”
Mr. Kevin Richardson was, as Margaret saw him, “tall, dark, and handsome,” with broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes. He sported a mustache and very short beard. Furthermore, he was intelligent and a good observation of character, which I valued in having him as my acquaintance.
“Congratulations!” I said. “You’re to be an uncle.”
“Oh, how grand. Do you think you will want children ever, Mr. Richardson?”
I sighed inwardly. Good gracious. Here we go.
“I suppose. One day, when I decide to marry, I would welcome several children.”
Emma put her arm in his in a friendly manner. “Well, you are certainly not getting any younger.”
Margaret positioned herself on the other side of him, obviously displeased that his attentions were so quickly leaving her. She held up her ribbon, trying to impress him, but, despite his nod and compliment, Kevin did not seem to think it any more practical than I.
“Ah, Mary, how are you?” he asked. She had lagged behind and remained silent.
Her face reddened, as it did when any one, gentlemen or lady of more than satisfactory means, addressed her.
“I am well, thank you,” she nodded, but said nothing further.
“If you are heading back towards home, I shall walk with you that direction.”
Kevin’s home was only half a mile further from town. Although he owned a great deal more land than Father did.
“Have you heard of the militia coming to down? They shall be camped here this winter,” Margaret said.
“Yes, I did hear that news,” Kevin said. “There may be other new faces in town soon as well.”
“Really?” I asked, eager to hear any new gossip.
He nodded. “That is what Mr. Dorough said as I passed his home this morning. I regrettably did not have time to stay long, though, so I do not have much more than that tidbit.”
“Oh.” How disappointing.
We soon bid farewell to Mary, and I had to endure Margaret monopolizing much of the conversation until we parted with Mr. Richardson, as well.
~*~*~*~*~
Several unextraordinary days passed by. The weather cooled a bit more, and the daylight was getting slimmer.
We were in the drawing room. I was sitting at the piano, but in no mood to play. Emma was working on her embroidery on the couch next to Mother, who was simply staring at the unlit fireplace. Father was elsewhere, probably in his study. “There are nothing but females in this house. Even the dog,” he’d say. Margaret’s pet would begin to bark, as if on cue. “I need a moment’s quiet every once and again. You are a chatty gender.” Then he’d laugh, nevertheless closing the door before heading to his desk.
I began to play a lively minuet, hoping to liven up the room. The inhabitants of the parlor did not oblige, but Margaret rushed in with news.
“Mum, you shall never guess what I have just discovered!” She nudged Emma over and sat on the couch.
Mother looked at her, awaiting the answer. Margaret enjoyed the anticipation a few seconds longer before responding.
“This coming Saturday, there is to be a dance at the assembly hall! Henrietta requested one, to welcome the militia, and her mother has just obliged! She just sent word,” Margaret held up the letter in her hand.
Emma retrieved the letter from her, reading it over. “Finally! It has been far too long since I have had the opportunity to dance.”
“Who else has been invited?” I asked.
“Oh, Mr. Richardson, I am certain,” Margaret said, with a meaningful glance towards Mother.
“Yes, indeed, we shall see him there. I want each of you to promise a dance to him. He is a dear friend to this family, after all,” Mother said.
Oh, goodness, I thought. She would be worse than usual leading up to this Saturday. Perhaps she figured that, with three eligible daughters, she had a great chance that one could be married to him, whether it was Emma or not.
“Whatever it is that you are thinking, Elizabeth, stop it this instance,” she eyed me. “One day you will thank me for all I do for you.”
“Yes, one day perhaps, but that day has not yet arrived,” I grinned, too sweetly to be taken sincere.
“I am being practical. What is wrong with Mr. Richardson? He is handsome enough. Wealthy. A true gentlemen.”
I sighed. “I said nothing to the contrary.”
“Why, then, would you not want to dance with him?”
“I said nothing against that either, Mother. My look was simply… oh, nevermind.” Was there any point? I turned back to my pianoforte.
The three of them discussed Saturday. Emma was almost as excited as Margaret, and I supposed she did not realize what it meant to have the Kingston family hosting the event, if Henrietta was in charge. Their family was rather class-conscious, so not everyone would be welcome. However, since they were holding the event at the assembly hall, instead of their own home, they would not be able to turn anyone away.
Still, it would be nice to see the new faces settling into town.
The rest of the week passed, of course, with talk of little else.
Chapter One
Chapter Three
Unmistakable
Frick's Fairytales