“I love you, too, dear Edith,” Marjorie replied, squeezing her friend’s hands, once they released each other from their hug. “I do not know what I would have done without you.”
“Fortunately for us both, you shall never need to find out,” Edith smiled, when the door suddenly burst open.
Annie stopped immediately, then went back, closed the door, and knocked on it, much to the amusement of both the ladies present.
“Come in, Annie!” Marjorie laughed, unable to resist. “It is all right.”
“I apologize, Miss. Marjorie,” Annie bowed respectfully. “There is… a man… a visitor here. His name is the Earl of Trowbridge.”
“His name is actually Alexander Haddington, dear Annie,” Marjorie corrected her tenderly. “But it is quite all right. You asked this time, as you should have. I am content.”
“T… Thank you, Miss. Marjorie,” Annie smiled, her cheeks flaring up with pride. “He is waiting in the salon.”
“Do tell him that I shall be right down,” Marjorie added.
“Yes, Miss Marjorie,” Annie confirmed, then disappeared.
Edith smiled at her friend. “You are truly such a saint for taking her in.”
“I could not leave her in that place a moment longer, Edith, you know that,” Marjorie reminded her. “Those living conditions were deplorable, and if you could only see the bruises on that poor child’s back and legs… my goodness. No one deserves to be treated in such a manner.”
Marjorie looked down at her gown, straightening a few invisible wrinkles which only she could see. Every time she moved, she could feel the constricting presence of her new diamond earrings, brushing against the soft skin of her neck. They were there, reminding her that she had a purpose this evening.
“Well, I suppose it is time,” Marjorie smiled. “Best not to keep Alexander waiting.”
“I shall be here when you return,” Edith reminded her, as the girls decided for Edith to spend a few nights here, because they needed to help the orphans of the streets in the following days due to the oncoming cold weather.
“Thank you,” Marjorie acknowledged her friend’s efforts and love now more so than ever.
She waved once more then exited the room, and walked towards the salon, stopping when she saw that the door was closed. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, allowing all the frustration regarding the current situation to leave her body. If such a thing was possible. Determinedly, she pressed the doorknob and pushed the door open.
* * *
Alexander was already turned to face Marjorie upon her entry. He had been waiting merely a minute. He expected her to be fashionably late, as the ladies deemed it, and he was already considering getting comfortable on the armchair, when he heard the door open.
When his eyes befell her, it was as if a goddess herself had decided to grace the presence of a mere mortal with her appearance. She was wearing the earrings he had sent her, and he was right. They looked more beautiful on her than he could even imagine. The dress accentuated her hourglass figure perfectly. He did not even know that such a form hid in those severe, mature looking dresses she always wore. She had truly blossomed into a rose.
An unknown sensation awoke inside of him.All eyes will be on her.He agreed with that little voice inside of him. He agreed with it, and he hated it for stating what he endeavored to keep concealed.
All eyes should be on her,he tried to pacify his heart, which raced faster than a winner at Ascot’s. That was what they want. Both of them. Only, looking at her right now, he wasn’t so certain.
“Is it too much?” she wondered, obviously apprehensive at his lack of a greeting or any comment for that matter. “Perhaps the earrings are too much.”
“The earrings are just right,” he said instead of a greeting. “I apologize. I am slightly tired. Work has piled up, and I have been running errands all day today. I am not all myself. Forgive me. You look wonderful. The task we have at hand will be more than an easy one.”
She smiled at his compliment. He wondered if she expected it. All women expected to be complimented when they think they’re beautiful.
“Thank you,” she beamed, her smile revealing a row of pearly white teeth, framed with rosy, pink lips. Her cheeks matched the color. “We can get going, if you are ready.”
“Yes,” he nodded, approaching her, and offering her his arm.
She hesitated a little, then rested her hand on his arm. A gentle fragrance of orange blossoms permeated the air. She smelled like distant, exotic lands one longed to discover, to bury one’s bare feet in the soft sands of an uncharted beach and dip a toe in the crystal-clear ocean by the shore.
He led her out of the house and towards his carriage, all the while, their hands touching. For some inexplicable reason, he did not wish their contact to end. When they arrive at the ball, he would need to relinquish her to someone else for a dance, and somehow, he did not wish to do that. He wanted to be the one dancing with her, holding her hand, gazing into those meadow-green eyes, and seeing his own reflection in them.
He quickly reminded himself that this was a silly notion. It was completely illogical. He was merely surprised by her beauty. The sensation would wane, and he would focus once again on the matter at hand.
Marjorie’s marriage.
