The man’s smile grew with pleasure, and he gave the most polite and natural bow she had ever seen.
“My name is Abraham Blackwood, Viscount Weavington, and it isan honorto make your make your acquaintance,” he stated with enthusiasm.
Ophelia heard her friends giggle behind her as one of them nudged her back. Clearly they were impressed with Lord Weavington. She had been too, at first, but his over emphatic politeness made her suspicious of a jape.
“It is nice to meet you, Lord Weavington,” she replied courteously, “However I must ask,whyis it such an honor to meet me?”
“Ophelia!” Rose whispered harshly from behind her. Her pointed question earned her another jab to her back from one of her friends, but Lord Weavington seemed unbothered by her bluntness. In fact his handsome smile grew at the question.
“I have seen your paintings in the gallery,” he explained with a warm tone. “You see I am recently back in London from an extended stay in the Americas. Their culture, I am afraid, is not as refined as ours, so I took myself to the gallery the moment I had the time. It was your work that I was drawn to the most.”
Ophelia felt her suspicions wane as she heard the sincere enthusiasm in Lord Weavington’s voice, and she relaxed as her own little smile formed naturally.
“I am honored that you like them so much,” she replied with a slight bow of her head, “Though I must admit that my work in the gallery is not the best representation of my skills.”
“Oh?” Lord Weavington asked, appearing genuinely curious. “Why do you believe so?”
He took a respectful step forward- not too close and not too far, and waited for her answer. Unlike the other gentleman who were overly zealous in the past, he made no move to reach for her hand, and she was relieved. She’d always felt uncomfortable when a man she did not know kissed her hand.
“Well it is quite pedestrian,” she explained, finding herself growing more comfortable with him by the moment, “You see the gallery has certain requirements for the pieces they accept. Nothing too bright or eccentric, you know.”
“And you?” He asked, raising an perfect white brow in amusement, “You prefer to be bright and eccentric?”
Ophelia’s smile widened.
“Perhaps at times,” she admitted.
His chuckle was just as infectious as his smile and she could not help but giggle along with him.
“Well, pedestrian or not, I very much enjoy your work,” he replied, “And at the risk of sounding too bold, I would find it a privilege to see more of it at some time.”
“Forward,” Ophelia chirped with a cheeky grin, “But perhaps possible.”
Another deep chuckled rolled effortlessly from Lord Wexington’s throat, and he bowed his head.
“At your leisure, only, Miss Wexley” he remarked, then leaned in closer added, “Might I say, I find your nature extremely refreshing.”
“Do you?” Ophelia mused.
“Oh indeed,” he replied, “I only just arrived in town last week and I have already been bored to tears twice by these young ladies flittering about.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Ophelia teased, and she beamed when Lord Lexington let out a loud, laugh.
“Thank heavens you chose to take pity on me, Miss Wexley,” he answered playfully.
She was about to respond with equal wit when his dark brown eyes shifted to someone behind her. His expression shifted so subtly that most would have never noticed, and he straightened his back and took a step back from her.
“I am afraid I must depart from our lovely conversation,” he said with a tone of regret, “Thank you, Miss Wexley, for your name and your wit. It was most refreshing. I hope we speak again.”
Ophelia was surprised at the intensity of her disappointment as he said so, but she kept her smile in place and curtseyed politely as he gave her a final bow. The moment he was gone, she was whirled around by one of her friends, and was met by eight grins and one deadpan expression.
“Good heaven above, what a ghastly sight,” Ophelia muttered as she took in the eager looks from her friends and their husbands. Tristan’s expression was the only one that didn’t bother her, in fact it nearly made her chuckle.
“That appeared to go quite well,” Theo said enthusiastically.
“Extremely well,” Seraphina added.
“It was a two-minute conversation!” Ophelia exclaimed with a laugh.
