“He’s kind to me, but he’s kind to everyone. That doesn’t signify—”
“There’s a difference between being kind and being intentionally attentive,” Patricia replied with a patient tone. “You don’t know the difference but…watch tonight. If he’s there, which I think he will be, watch how he tries to converse with you on topics you’d like to talk about, little things like that. And you know he’ll be the one who insists on accompanying me when we take you home.”
“There are only two options: you and him. He can’t very well take me alone, and you would walk back home alone if you came with me. Either way, it’s more of a formality than a mark of preference,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“Very well, don’t believe me. Just use your powers of observation to make your own judgments,” Patricia answered. “And we made the conclusion just in time.” She swung open the door and called out, “I’m home, Mitch.”
“About time. I’m headed out in about a half hour, and I…” He paused as he came into the hall. His eyes widened, and his ears turned vaguely pink as his attention landed on Elizabeth.
“Pardon, Miss Essex. Good evening.”
“Good evening, Mr. Finch.”
The silence carried on for a moment before Michael addressed his sister. “I’ll be out later tonight. Be sure you bolt the door while I’m away.”
“As always, Mitch. You coddle me so. I’ll be quite fine.” Patricia moved into the parlor. Elizabeth followed and set down her satchel on the table.
Michael followed them into the room. “How was your class this evening, Miss Essex?” He gestured to the chairs, and once they were seated, took a seat himself.
Elizabeth met his brown eyes and smiled. “It went quite well. We’re studying René Descartes and how to apply his rules for mathematics to other areas in life.”
He nodded. “Ah,Discourse, my sister tells me.”
“Indeed. Have you read it?”
Michael nodded once. “It was a while ago, and I can’t say I finished the book, but I studied the concepts.”
“Did you enjoy it?” Elizabeth asked, truly curious for the answer.
He shrugged. “I read it at a time when academics were less palatable than fishing in the river.” He gave aboyish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his smile revealing a small gap between his front two teeth.
Elizabeth waited for her body to react to him. She listened as he addressed his sister for a moment and studied her own emotions. Did she feel attraction? Friendship? Interest? He was easy to converse with and truly a kind man, but she didn’t feel any difference with him than with any other friend. Odd, shouldn’t she feel something?
Reduce the problem to its simplest form.As she thought the words, she considered the problem at hand…herself. The simplest part was understanding herself, and, if truth be told, she wasn’t certain she knew the answer.
“I won’t be able to escort you home, Miss Essex.” Michael turned to her.
Elizabeth’s attention snapped back into place as she gathered her wayward thoughts and waved him off. “It’s of no consequence. I’ll make my way home now.” She stood.
“I can see you halfway, and I’m sure your father will be out watching for you as well,” Mr. Finch stated as he stood.
“Thank you, but it’s not far, and my father will indeed be out waiting for me. Therefore, I’m perfectly safe.”
Mr. Finch seemed to deliberate but nodded after a moment. “I’ll still escort you a ways, and Patricia can come with me partway as well.”
Elizabeth nodded and followed Patricia to the door, satchel in hand. Patricia’s subtle wink didn’t give her a comforting feeling, but she proceeded anyway. Perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to have some additional time with Mr. Finch. It would give her a few moments of his undivided attention in a very public place. No doubt Patricia would linger behind and pretend to study other things to give her time with her brother. Elizabeth pressed her lips together, unsure if she was thankful or irritated with her friend.
“Miss Essex.” He offered his arm, and they started toward her home. His warm smile hinted that he was happy to have a few moments with her as well. As expected, Patricia lingered behind. “I’ll be just behind you, Mitch, I’m terribly slow today. My ankle has been bothering me.”
Elizabeth resisted the urge to shoot her a disbelieving look, but decided against it.
“That’s unfortunate, Pats.” Michael cast a glance at his sister, as if assuring himself she wasn’t in too much discomfort, and carried on, offering Elizabeth a shy smile.
Logically, she took a moment to think about how she felt about that. Did it please her? She found that it did, in fact. “Do you have a busy evening ahead of you, Mr. Finch?” she asked, initiating some conversation as they walked.
“Somewhat. Turns out I’ll be with your dear old friend, Lord Penderdale.”
“Why must you bring him up?” she teased—flirted, actually.
