“No need,” Hannah said. “I was only having Joyce to touch up my hair.”
Mr. Hodge straightened, a small smile appearing on his lips, and Hannah’s cheeks warmed under the assumption he seemed to have made. Luckily, the tension was broken when her mother rang a bell, asking a maid to call for the tea tray to be brought in.
“Miss Gibbons,” Mr. Hodge said. “You are looking very well today.”
“Thank you.” Hannah smiled politely, knowing her mother was watching her every move. There was nothing wrong with Mr. Hodge. He was young enough, polite, handsome, and yet, Hannah found she never thought of him once he left. Perhaps if she became acquainted with him outside of these walls, that circumstance would change. One could only get to know someone so well when they were under the watchful gaze of a chaperone.
Mr. Hodge’s eyes darted about the room. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but when the maid entered with the tea tray, he sighed and snapped it shut with clear relief written across his face.
“Hannah, would you please serve?” Her mother smiled encouragingly, and Hannah moved to do as she asked.
She began with Mr. Hodge’s cup. “How do you prefer your tea?”
“Just a bit of cream please.” He couldn’t meet her eyes, but he smiled, keeping his gaze on her hands as she steadily poured the tea and added a splash of cream.
A tickle started in Hannah’s nose, and she tried to discreetly rub it on her shoulder while putting the cream down on the tray. Turning to hand Mr. Hodge his cup, the itch returned with renewed vigor, and she held the cup close to her midsection on the chance she actually sneezed.
“Miss Gibbons?” Mr. Hodge watched her with a raised brow.
Hannah took a few practice breaths, and the sneeze seemed to have retreated. “Yes, excuse me. Here is your tea.” She leaned forward, holding the cup out to him.
“Oh, one moment.” Mr. Hodge made to remove his gloves.
Unfortunately, the odious tickle returned when he had only removed one.
“Mr.—” She meant to hurry him along, but she never got the chance to finish her thought before the sneeze erupted. Tea flew into the air as her body jolted, and Mr. Hodge, in an attempt to help, brought his hands up under hers to steady the cup. Only, it didn’t help at all as Hannah wasn’t expecting the touch, and the cup tipped forward, spilling tea onto his pants.
“Oh dear,” Hannah fretted, handing the cup to Mr. Hodge before turning back to the tray. There was a napkin folded on top, and she snatched it up and swung about to hand it to Mr. Hodge. “Please forgive me. I fear I have the misfortune of unladylike sneezes.”
If her mother sighed, Hannah was lucky enough not to hear it. Mr. Hodge accepted the napkin, but he still had the teacup in his hand.
“Here, let me take your cup.” Hannah grabbed it before he had fully released his grip, and the cup tipped forward, spilling the remaining contents onto the poor man’s boots. “Oh dear, I am sorry!” She grabbed the napkin from his hand and knelt down, attempting to blot his boots dry.
“Miss Gibbons,” Mr. Hodge said, leaning forward. “You need not do that. I can take care of my boots.”
Her gaze shot up to his eyes, and she was met with the greatest look of perplexity on the man’s face. “Of course. I apologize.” With her head hung low, she quickened back to her seat. Her mother’s stare burned the side of her face, but Hannah refused to meet her censorious glare. She was well aware this was a disaster without her mother’s looks to assure her of that fact.
The rest of the visit felt forced and awkward. Hannah found herself staring at the clock and inwardly urging it on as if she could control time. If anything, it only seemed to make the minutes pass more slowly.
Finally, Mr. Hodge stood. “I thank you for the lovely visit.”
“Please, feel free to come again,” her mother said, her words calm. Only Hannah seemed to notice the urgency in her wide eyes.
Mr. Hodge dipped his gaze. “Yes, that would be lovely.” He bowed and left the room.
As soon as they heard the clack of his boots fade into nothing, her mother pinched her lips and turned her head to Hannah. “Cleaning the man’s boots?”
Hannah pressed her eyes shut. She was so sick of the look of disappointment. “I am sorry, Mother. I did not know what to do after spilling tea on him—”
“He will think you are used to service, for goodness’ sake.” She picked up the bell, ringing it louder than usual. “Surely I do not need to tell you that as a lady, you should not kneel down and scrub a man’s boots clean.”
“Let us at least be fair and admit the circumstances were not usual. His boots appeared expensive, and I acted without thought.”
“Exactly, Hannah.” Her mother put a hand to her brow, eyes fluttering closed. “You do not think.”
She dipped her chin to her chest. “I said I am sorry. I do not know what else to say.”
Footsteps sounded outside the door. “Lord Noah is here for Miss Gibbons,” Talbot announced.
