“Percival Allen,” Marjorie said his name out loud, and there was nothing. A disappointing lack of any butterflies or anything that might signal that she felt something more for this man. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “The second son of the Baron of Fillside.” For some reason, she felt the need to state his entire position on the social scale of his family. More so because that meant that he was not in search of a lady with an impeccable, unblemished past and with a sizeable dowry of her own.
“And you think he might be the one you could marry?” Edith’s sober voice brought her back to reality.
She sighed indecisively. “I am not certain.”
“Well…” Edith searched for the right words to make her friend feel better, although Marjorie felt like there were no right words at this moment. “You do not need to feel anything right now. It is too early.”
“It is?” Marjorie did not sound convinced, although she appreciated her friend’s effort.
“Of course,” Edith nodded, knowingly. In fact, she had never been in love before, but that did not seem to take from her wisdom in the matter of love. “If you felt something for him, that would be mere infatuation, something solely physical. True love requires time. It takes effort. It is being built over the course of time. It does not just appear out of nowhere.”
Marjorie believed the opposite. At least, that was what all those romance novels would have her believe. Love took one by surprise. It was like thunder, lighting. Overpowering. However, what Edith told her made complete sense. After all, it explained exactly what she was feeling for Alexander. She was infatuated. She was smitten. He was handsome, after all. And charming as well. It was difficult to stay immune to such charms. But that was all they were. Superficial charms whose magic would soon wane. In its place would come real love. The kind of love that would last forever, an entire lifetime. The kind of love that would save her once again, just as it did once before. Because what the earl felt for her was true love, the love for a parent for a child that was his, even though they did not share the same blood. That was the kind of love she felt for him as well. True love. Now, she needed true love again to save her. Alexander was not it. But was Percival?
Marjorie smiled at her friend. “Perhaps you are right. In any case, morning will bring new knowledge, and I’m certain that things will have more sense when we wake up. I’m too tired to think right now. I need a good night’s sleep.”
“Then that is exactly what we shall do,” her friend responded, and within minutes, Marjorie blew out the candle, enshrouding the room in total darkness.
Her friend’s soft, even breathing quickly filled the room. Her own did not bring any comfort. Instead, her mind raced with images from the ball, with Alexander reigning among them. No matter how hard she tried to banish his face from her mind, it was impossible.
Infatuation. Just that and nothing more…She tried to convince herself of that. Eventually, she fell asleep, but even in dreams, she was not free from his presence, for sometimes, infatuation was merely a cover for something far deeper.
Chapter 9
That afternoon awaited Marjorie with yet another carefully wrapped box with a blushing red ribbon. She did not need to open it to know what it contained. The message had been more than clear.
Please, wear this when I come for you. A.
Fifteen minutes later, Marjorie was looking at her own reflection in the mirror, in awe of Alexander’s taste in women’s clothing. It was a simple bell-shaped gown, with increasing width of the bottom of the skirt. It was of a soft, lilac-colored hue, with a classically pure and dainty decoration at the hem of the dress in the form of a delicate row of lace and beads. It fitted her perfectly, as if she herself had been there for the fitting. He must have ordered it in agreement with Mrs. Ashbury. Only she was able to create such effective masterpieces of simplicity.
This time, there was no Edith to calm down her nerves. Her friend had left earlier that morning on an errand which Marjorie had been hoping to join in, but with the unexpected stroll in Hyde Park, Marjorie had suddenly become tied up for the morning.
Her hair was pulled into a simple bun at the base of her neck. A few loose strands fell by her ear. She did not bother to adjust them. It was an unofficial stroll, after all. She would leave the need for stricter hairstyles for the next ball, which she was to attend in only a few days. The thought did not bring her much joy.
A knock on the door made her flinch. “Yes?” she called out.
The door opened, and Annie peered in. “Miss Marjorie, he is here. I mean, the Earl of Trowbridge is waiting for you in the salon.”
Marjorie smiled approvingly. “Splendid, Annie. Thank you. Please tell the earl I shall be right down.”
“Yes, Miss,” Annie curtsied, then closed the door gently.
Marjorie could not stop smiling. When she glanced at the mirror again, she was surprised to see that she looked perfectly well put together. She reminded herself that she needed to be. Her future depended on it. And not only her future, but also Alexander’s. It was true that she did not particularly fancy Percival Allen, but perhaps in time, she could. In time, he might even become Percy to her, as well. There were so many things lying in her future she did not know about. But shedidknow one thing, and that was that she did not wish to be Alexander’s burden any longer. Their paths needed to diverge again, only having met briefly, and they should live their lives as they had originally intended to.
She sighed heavily, then exhaled through slightly parted lips.It would be all right.It was merely a stroll. Nothing else.
A minute later, she entered the salon. Alexander was waiting there, his hat in his hand, looking handsome as ever. Even more so.
“Marjorie,” he smiled at seeing her, as if she had somehow become a sight for sore eyes. His. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she greeted him back with a less enthusiastic smile. “I apologize for keeping you waiting.” Being formal with him made her feel as if she was still in control of this entire situation. Losing control was dangerous. She could not allow that to happen.
“I just arrived,” he shrugged. “Shall we?”
“Yes,” she accepted his arm, just like she had done during the ball the previous night, allowing him to lead her to the carriage. The drive to Hyde Park was short, even pleasant, mostly because Marjorie listened only with half of her focus at what Alexander had been telling her. He kept repeating what a good person Percival was, a good man, a good friend, and surely, he would make a good husband. Those were all perfectly plausible assumptions to which she nodded. After all, what else could she have done?
About half an hour later, the three of them were walking through Hyde Park. Marjorie particularly enjoyed strolls past the Serpentine River, underneath the shadow of numerous rows of trees.
“I must say, Miss. Marjorie, you look utterly ravishing this morning,” Percival said immediately following his greeting.
