Glitter

by Abbi Glines

  She nodded. “I shall.”

  Alice didn’t toss out anymore stern orders and Emma walked over to her slowly and reached up to take Alice’s hand in hers. “Twas a good day wasn’t it, Alice?” she said, tilting her head back to look up at the governess as they retreated to the staircase.

  “Yes, Miss Emma, I do believe it was,” Alice agreed.

  The drive over to 18 Mayfair was short and I had little time to prepare for exactly what I would say to Miss Bathurst once we had some privacy. When I sent the invitation for her and her aunt to join me in my box at the opera, I hadn’t been sure of her acceptance. However, I was sure she had accepted due to her aunt, not because she truly wanted to. It was clear that Miss Bathurst wasn’t fond of me or my brother. I was going to do my best to rectify her dislike for me. As for Nicholas, I thought she was wise to keep her distance.

  Emma had been so full of questions it had distracted me for a time. Now that I was pulling up to Wellington’s home, I was fully aware I might be in for a rather unfriendly female by my side this evening. Why this made me smile I wasn’t sure. What man wanted a surly women to entertain? Had I gone mad of late?

  As the carriage came to a stop, I straightened myself and stepped down onto the footpath. With every step I took closer to the door, I reminded myself that I was doing this for Emma. I needed to spend time with Miss Bathurst to see if she was the fit we needed. Not just as countess but as Emma’s mother. It was a good thing Miriam Bathurst wasn’t meek and quiet, for if she were, Emma would send her running within a day. There was strength and confidence in Miriam Bathurst that Emma would require in a mother and that would be expected from a countess, especially when the ton began the murmuring and gossip about Emma. No matter my rank and power, Emma’s legitimacy would be in question. The lie I had in place was a strong one, but it would take a stronger female to pull it off.

  The butler escorted me to the drawing room, assuring me the ladies would be down in but a moment. A maid had offered me tea while I waited but before I could respond, the loud American voice of Lady Wellington rang down the hallway. I smiled thinking of how she would be entertaining for Emma and how Alice wouldn’t approve.

  Lady Wellington came swishing hastily through the door. “Lord Ashington, I would have had Alfred greet you, but he’s out for the evening. I do hope you haven’t waited long. Miriam will be down in just a moment. Would you like tea? Or perhaps a glass of brandy? I can send for some of Alfred’s best.”

  Brandy did sound appealing right about now but I shook my head. “That won’t be necessary,” I assured her with a grateful smile.

  My response seemed to make her nervous as she began fidgeting with her hands and her smile failed a bit. Perhaps I should have said yes. I didn’t mean to cause her undue stress.

  “We are looking forward to this evening,” she said smiling. “We’ve talked of little else all day. Thank you so much for the invitation.”

  I returned her smile knowing full well Miriam Bathurst had not spent her day gushing over the evening in my box at the opera. However, it was an amusing thought. I doubted Miss Bathurst gushed about much. She was not easily impressed or perhaps she was. There was very little about her that I did know. Nicholas had been right about that. I knew only what I had been told and the little time I had been around her to witness. Nicholas had more knowledge of Miriam and he seemed to find pleasure in that. Tonight I would seek my own information. Starting with conversation with Lady Wellington. She would be a well of information where her niece was concerned.

  I started to speak, but whatever words had been on my tongue were lost as Miriam Bathurst entered the room. I wasn’t sure there were words to describe her. Every time I had seen Miss Bathurst, she had been breathtaking. She was blessed with the natural beauty that couldn’t be fabricated. It was unparalleled. However, the pearl almost iridescent color of her silk evening gown made her appear more angelic than real. The dark red curls piled high upon her head accentuated the smooth perfect skin of her neck and shoulders.

  Had I ever laid eyes on anyone this lovely? She was truly ethereal in her appearance. Unlike anything I had ever seen. If I didn’t know she was just a flesh and blood woman, I would believe she was a celestial being. Emma would believe she was a princess.

  I only had a moment to be enraptured by the vision before me before she shot me a tight haughty smile that reminded me she was very much female and she didn’t hold a fondness for me. I had much to rectify, it would seem. The idea of doing so was suddenly very appealing. For the more time spent in her presence, the better I could discern if she was truly what I was searching for in a wife.

  “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” she said although her eyes said she didn’t care if she did. Yes, she was indeed full of willfulness that would be required for anyone who dealt with Emma.

  “Not in the least. I would wait hours for the pleasure of escorting such a beauty as yourself anywhere,” I replied. She tensed and I could tell she was unsure how to respond to the compliment.

  “Oh, Miriam, you are absolutely gorgeous,” her aunt exclaimed in awe.

  Her cheeks flushed then as she shifted her gaze to her aunt who was openly praising her. For a moment, I thought she might scold or correct her aunt, but she simply gave her a soft smile and thanked her before turning her attention back to me.

  Nicholas was right about one thing. I knew very little of Miriam Bathurst.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Miriam Bathurst

  The view was incredible. I had never enjoyed the opera in such luxury. Aunt Harriet was glowing and although I wasn’t sure why Lord Ashington had invited me tonight, I was grateful my aunt was getting this experience. Furthermore, I didn’t feel as if Lord Ashington were playing a game. The small amount of time I had spent with him thus far, he seemed truly interested in me. He’d inquired of my family, and when he had noticed the fondness I held for my sister, he asked more detailed questions of her. Mr. Compton had never asked of Whitney once. I hated that I was comparing the two, but it was difficult not to. They were the only two men in London I had spent more time with than just a dance or brief visit.

  Before the music had even begun, the Earl of Ashington knew a great deal about me. I realized I had been talking since our arrival. The ease in which he asked questions made one forget they were talking so much. I felt my cheeks heat at the thought and studied my hands for a moment, trying to sort out all I had said.

  “I do hope your sister gets to visit London this season. It is clear you miss her,” he said, and I could hear the sincerity in his tone.

  Glancing back up at him, I managed a smile. “Me too. She would simply love the city,” I told him.

  He returned my smile. “And do you love the city?” he asked then.

  I thought a moment then decided there was no reason to lie. I shook my head. “No. I don’t mind it. There are things, such as this, that are truly remarkable about being in London. However, nothing compares to the lush unspoiled countryside or the fragrant smell of the outdoors.”

  His smile softened. “I could not agree more. Whereas London is full of energy and lights, the countryside is full of natural beauty and peace. I miss it when I’m away.”

  His reply surprised me. “Away? You don’t spend most of your time in London?” I asked. I had pictured someone like Ashington being near the city, not tucked away in his country manor.

  “Not if it can be helped. I much prefer the country,” he replied.

  Lord Ashington had truly surprised me. As the stage lights drew my attention and the music began, my thoughts stayed on the conversation and how… it had been nice. Not at all what I had expected.

  Aunt Harriet’s hand reached over and squeezed mine from the excitement of the evening. I smiled over at her and she was truly happy. Yet another thing that softened my previous feelings toward Lord Ashington. Nothing about this evening had been less than enjoyable.

  Eventually the music pulled me in and I was lost in the
beauty of the voices and the extravagance of the clothing. Whitney would adore this. I wanted this for her. I wanted her to sit in a box such as this one and experience it all. She was why I was here after all. I had come to London for her. Securing her a future was all that had mattered to me.

  I glanced over at Lord Ashington and found his gaze wasn’t on the stage as mine had been, but he was leaning back in his chair watching me. I was suddenly very nervous and unsure of myself. Why hadn’t I noticed he was studying me? Had I been that lost in the scene below? I met his gaze unsure as to why he was watching me and wondering if I had been making a strange face or if I had possibly made a sound of appreciation.

  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.

  The forced smile on her mother’s face and Lydia’s solemn behavior this morning made that more than obvious. Even without the scandalous gossip papers that circulated London, word would have reached them by early morning, if not last night. I was myself surprised to hear the news and wondered if this was a game that Ashington was now playing with me.

  However, the less than stellar conversation with Lydia compared to the time I had spent with Miriam, did make one the more obvious choice. Both were indeed beauties, although Miss Bathurst was more of a striking unique beauty whereas Lydia was a typical pale English beauty.

  I had planned on inviting Lydia and Lady Ramsbury on a ride through the park this afternoon but perhaps I would wait. If Ashington was unsure of his attentions, I had to practice patience and see which way to move. The idea of using Miriam as a pawn in my revenge felt like a sour pill in my gut. My coming here had been me truly hoping Ashington was on the same course. I did not know how I would proceed if Miriam became part of this game. Did he know that? Was that why he had taken her to the opera last night? Had he sensed my weakness for her?

  If only I were a praying man then I could put hope in something more than chance for my brother to choose Lydia and not Miriam for his future bride. Although Lydia did seem rather fragile, much more so than Miriam. I wasn’t a complete monster and guilt nudged me at the idea of causing her undo pain and humiliation. However, she would marry well eventually. Just not to a Compton. For that, she should truly be thanking me indeed. It would be much too easy if it were Lydia my brother chose. The other option was not something I was ready to face.

  Feeling better about my plans for the ruination of my brother’s future plans, I smiled my most charming of smiles and turned to Lydia. “I can’t help but notice you aren’t quite yourself this morning. Are you feeling unwell?” I asked as if I didn’t know why she was in such a sulk.

  Her cheeks blushed slightly and she ducked her head as if to hide it from me. Oh, naïve girl, I am more aware of women than you shall ever know. I ask what I already have full knowledge of but want to only hear what your answer will be.

  When she finally lifted her gaze to me, she gave me a weak smile. “I feel fine, Mr. Compton. It’s the stress of the season I believe. Mother does lay much importance on my making an advantageous match,” she trailed off as if she wanted to say more but dared not.

  “That does seem to be the case among mothers in the marriage mart. They all have their eye on the prize. It’s unfair, I dare say.”

  Her eyes widened at my words. “You think? That it is unfair, that is?”

  I chuckled softly, thinking how young and sheltered Lydia Ramsbury truly was. My brother would be a terrible match for her and if her mother cared at all, she would see that. “Of course that is what I think. I’ve seen ladies in their first season married off to a duke or earl too long i
n the tooth to produce an heir. It’s a shame. Women should be free to choose a man they can love or at least like. Marriage doesn’t have to be a business contract.”

  Lydia’s face looked shocked by my words. “I believe, sir, that it does.”

  With a sigh, I continued to walk. Lydia Ramsbury had been trained from the nursery to marry for status and nothing more. She would do just as she was told and if the lord that asked for her hand in marriage was powerful enough, her father wouldn’t care just how old he was. His daughter would marry.

  We circled the rose garden in silence and as we drew closer to Lady Ramsbury, she bestowed upon me a smile that was pleased and possibly grateful for my presence. Not because she wanted to marry her daughter to a mere Mister. But because she thought my brother would hear of this visit and come to call on Lydia. She may be right. I wasn’t positive any longer what Ashington would do next. My hope was that he would indeed come to call.

  “Your roses are to be envied, Lady Ramsbury,” I told her, not really caring about her roses at all but knowing she would appreciate the praise.

  “Thank you, Mr. Compton. I do so love to spend time out here enjoying them.”

  When it was clear Lydia was going to remain silent, I decided it was time I took my leave. “Thank you, ladies, for such a pleasant morning,” I began.

  “It has been our pleasure,” Lady Ramsbury replied. “We did expect to see Lord Ashington this morning. You were indeed a nice surprise.”

  Ah, there it was. She couldn’t help herself. She was asking me without truly asking me if I knew of my brother’s whereabouts this morning. Lady Ramsbury must be desperate for information to stoop to asking the brother that Ashington detested.