“Perhaps Percival should skip another cup of tea, just to be on the safe side.” Alexander comment was said in such a serious manner and so suddenly that Marjorie could not prevent herself from bursting into laughter. Alexander immediately joined in. It seemed that Percival was the only one who did not find it particularly amusing.
“Oh, I am so sorry for laughing,” Marjorie pressed her hand to her lips to cease, but it was to no avail, for laughter kept forcing its way through her lips and through her clenched fingers which were so adamant at preventing it.
“Come now, old boy,” Alexander leaned over closer to him. “Do lighten up.”
“I should like to see you lighten up with moist trousers,” Percival sulked.
“That looks hardly moist,” Alexander squinted, pretending that he could not see anything there. “A few drops, nothing else. By the time the girl returns, it will be as if it never happened.”
Percival seemed to think about it for a moment, then his lips broke into a smile. “I suppose you are right, Alexander. I just panicked, I suppose. I am used to tea being served on the table and not in my lap.”
“See? There we go,” Alexander clapped once at the joke, and the three laughed again. “It seems you got your good humor back.”
Marjorie’s eyes traveled from one man to the other, listening to their voices, watching the expressions on their faces. Despite all her conscious effort, she could not refrain from comparing the two, and no matter what criteria she used, Alexander always seemed to be the one on top. That only made her focus on Percival more. She addressed him more often, asked him questions. She forced herself to be interested in everything he had to say, until she almost believed that she was.
That was how she said goodbye to the two gentlemen once it was time for them to part. Her heart left with the one who did not even know he possessed it, while she clenched to the other one like a dying man clenched at a straw that might save his life.
Chapter 16
The following afternoon, Alexander was greeted by what appeared to be a hastily written not on part of his friend, Percival, to meet at White’s. Truth be told, Alexander had planned to drop by the inn, to see whether Marjorie was there and offer any help, but the note seemed urgent, so he complied. It was one of the duties he felt he owed to his friend, with whom he still had a binding, verbal contract regarding Marjorie’s hand.
Percival, as it seemed, was committed to the cause more than ever. Alexander, on the other hand, not so much. But there was nothing he could do. There were instances where he felt as if the relationship between him and Marjorie was more than just platonic, more than merely friendship. But he immediately reminded himself that it could not be. It was mere wishful thinking. He was projecting the reality he wished to live in, but that did not make it real.
He arrived swiftly, walking into the well familiar building, greeting the usual faces. Some he had known for a long time, and they smiled at him. The others, merely acquaintances or some potential business partners, only nodded to him courteously, then returned to their game or conversation. Truth be told, Alexander wished he could have been somewhere else. That desire had little to do with White’s, and everything with the way his heart seemed to be confused and unable to choose. He immediately noticed Percival in the corner of the room, occupying one of the leather armchairs.
“Afternoon, Haddington,” Percival lifted his glass in greeting. Alexander noticed a yellowish liquid, not unlike brandy. “Come, take a seat.”
“Afternoon,” Alexander greeted him back, taking a seat opposite him.
“Brandy?” Percival offered.
“No, thank you,” Alexander shook his head, with the addition of the lifted hand, as a double negative. Deep down, he was still hoping that this conversation would not last long and that he would be left with enough time to at least drop by the inn quickly to check on Marjorie.
“Any plans for later on?” Percival lifted his brow, as if insinuating something.
“No,” Alexander was quick to say. “Nothing special.”
“Good then,” Percival adjusted himself in the armchair.
“Is everything all right?” Alexander clenched his jaw.
“Why of course,” Percival replied. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Now it was Alexander’s turn to frown. “Because I received an urgent note from you to meet with you here. So, I assumed– “
“You assumed wrong, old boy.” Percival lifted his hand in the air, the clicked his fingers. Within seconds, two drinks appeared, one for himself and another one for Alexander.
“I told you, I’m not in the mood for drinking,” Alexander repeated.
“Nonsense,” Percival waved his hand dismissively. “This is a time for celebration.”
Alexander swallowed heavily. There could be only one celebration he could be referring to, the one he himself was responsible for. A knot of tension tightened both in his chest and deep down in his belly.Celebration,his mind repeated, and that knot became a little tighter.
“I have called you here to inform you that I have decided not to wait any longer.” Percival’s voice was determined, focused, despite the gentle whiff of alcohol that emanated from him. It was obvious that he had started with the celebration early. “I would consider it a privilege if you would agree to me marrying Marjorie.”
Alexander’s jaw clenched tighter than ever before. His hands initially rested in his laps, relaxed. Now they were rolled up into fists. He tried to remind himself that this was for the best. Percival was a good man, who had a few flaws of his own. But he knew him ever since they were little children. He trusted him. He knew that Percival would take good care of Marjorie. That was all that mattered.
The fact that he himself wished to keep Marjorie safe and cherished did not matter, for she did not want him. She wanted someone else. Perhaps Percival? Perhaps someone else? But not him. Never him. The sooner he got it in his head, the better it would be for everyone.
