Miss Thornhill was pretty, rich, and charming, with plenty of friends and a decent family behind her. She would not be interested in a scarred recluse who – rich though he might be – was nothing short ofodd. Thinking too hard on Miss Thornhill was a path down which Arthur did not want to start. No doubtshedid not want him to think of her that way, too. As Lucy’s friend, the family would be seeing a lot of Miss Thornhill. Best to keep things civil and cool.
“It’s no trouble at all. How have you been finding the running of the estate?” Mrs. Thornhill queried, leaning forward to look at him properly, and neatly obscuring any view of Miss Thornhill.
Before Arthur could answer, she was speaking again.
“I daresay it takes up entirely too much of your time. I thought you looked very tired last night at the ball, and you only danced once. I’d hoped to see you stand up with Felicity – she’s a fine dancer – but naturally you must open the ball with Lucy. I recall a ball some years ago, held here by your late predecessor, and Felicity danced with…”
She launched into a lengthy anecdote, pausing to fill him on the details of various persons and their families, which Mrs. Thornhill seemed to consider necessary context.
At last, she had to stop for breath, and Arthur made a weak effort to draw Miss Thornhill back into the conversation.
“Miss Thornhill and I were just discussing a book she recently took from the library,” he said, leaning forward to try and catch Miss Thornhill’s eye.
“Took?” Mrs. Thornhill echoed, her voice a trifle shrill.
Arthur realised his mistake at once. “I didn’t want to say borrowed, as she is free to keep it forever, if she likes.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Thornhill seemed to relax. “Yes, I can’t say that I approve of excessive reading in ladies, especially young ones who ought to be focused on getting their own establishment, but I don’t believe reading causes a great deal of harm. Was it a novel?”
“A botany tome, I believe. A dusty old thing, with a title I daresay I’d have to read twice to understand.”
Arthur had meant it as a joke, a light-hearted comment to ease the tension. Miss Thornhill hadn’t spoken since her mother had installed herself between them, and Mr. Thornhill shifted nervously from foot to foot, not venturing a word.
Mrs. Thornhill pressed her lips together, shuffling around to face her daughter.
“I think you have quite enough books on botany, don’t you, Felicity?” she remarked acidly. “It’s very kind of Lord Lanwood to humour you, but really, you won’t havetimefor reading while you’re here. I’m sure we discussed this earlier.”
There was no mistaking the tone of her voice, or the way Miss Thornhill stiffened, jaw clenching.
“I shall be sure that my studies don’t get in the way of my time here,” she responded levelly.
“Studies?” Mrs. Thornhill squawked. “Oh, Lord Lanwood,studiesis far too academic a word, I can assure you.”
“Of course,” Arthur managed, a little bewildered as to why this was directed at him.
“I’m sure, Felicity, that Lord Lanwood doesnotwant to be bored with all your nonsense,” there was a definite edge to Mrs. Thornhill’s voice now, and Arthur was getting more and more uncomfortable. Could he excuse himself, or would that look too rude?
“I was only speaking of my interests, Mama,” Miss Thornhill spoke, keeping her voice level. “Nothing more.”
“And have you thought to ask Lord Lanwood abouthisinterests?”
“I really feel that…” Arthur began hesitantly, not entirely sure what he intended to say, only that he wanted the conversation to come to an end. His sentence faded away as another guest stepped through the open doors onto the terrace, stretching out long limbs and beaming complacently all around.
Mr. and Mrs. Thornhill followed his gaze. After a pause, so did Miss Thornhill.
“Oh,” she said, sounding extremely tired all of a sudden. “Lord Vincent is here.”
Lord Vincent took his time, taking in every detail of the tables and chairs and their occupants. He smiled directly at Miss Thornhill and began to walk towards them.
Arthur had had more than enough.
“Do excuse me,” he said crisply, getting to his feet, and strode away across the terrace towards Lucy and Beatrice, who clustered together in a corner.
“You invited Lord Vincent?” he hissed, once he reached them. “Why?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Beatrice whispered back, looking distraught. “I was only inviting a few people, but he kept appearing whenever I spoke. It was all verbal invitations for an informal thing, you know. And once I’d said it in front of him, Ihadto invite him. Everybody was expecting it.”
“He did it deliberately,” Arthur said wearily. “He wanted to be here.”
