“Ah, here we are, Katherine,” said Benjamin, clearing his throat as he turned to the newcomer. “I wanted to introduce Mr. Clarence Moody.”
Katherine and the gentleman exchanged pleasantries whilst Benjamin watched the pair of them with a level of interest that had the back of her neck prickling. Though she sent her brother questioning looks, Benjamin gave no indication of what he was about, and Katherine couldn’t think what to do but let it unfold and see what was to come.
But once the introductions were formed, the trio stood there, staring at one another.
Chapter 12
“Do you need a trug?” asked Katherine, nodding towards the brambles. “The berries are quite thick here, and you’re sure to fill a basket quickly. Mrs. Hyatt has quite a few—”
Mr. Moody raised a hand to forestall her, his smile straining. “My thanks, but I do not wish to pick berries this afternoon.”
“You do not wish to pick berries at a berry picking party?” asked Katherine with a furrowed brow.
“I am here to enjoy the picnic and the company,” said Mr. Moody, waving out to the people lazing about. “Lawn games and berry picking aren’t my idea of entertainment.”
Katherine’s head canted to the side. “I cannot say I enjoy berry picking, but if I wish to have blackberries in my cakes and tarts, I must roll up my sleeves, so to speak.”
“That is quite industrious of you.” Despite the complimentary words, there was an edge to his tone that made it feel like a genteel insult.
Slanting a look at her brother, Katherine stared at him, and Benjamin merely looked back at her with his brows raised high as though urging her to say something more, but she couldn’t think what to say to such a man.
As one who was often mistaken for unpleasant, she knew too well how fallible first impressions were, but there was an air to Mr. Moody that made her uneasy. When one boasted a dry sense of humor, one could easily identify those who shared similar sensibilities, and nothing about this gentleman begged a further acquaintance.
“I understand he is quite a reader,” said Benjamin, his gaze darting between the two. Having spent years with Mama and Rosanna forcing such interactions, it took little reasoning to guess that Benjamin was presenting a possible suitor to Katherine. What she couldn’t reason out was why he was doing so now.
“Most people read,” replied Katherine. “It is a question of what they read.”
Mr. Moody’s brows rose. “Too true, Miss Leigh. I am a lover of poetry.”
“Ah, yes. I cannot claim to be well versed in verse,” she replied, though neither man gave any sign of amusement at her play on words. Mr. Archer would’ve given her at least a chuckle at that, poor though it had been. “However, there are a few poets I enjoy.”
Mr. Moody’s gaze lightened a touch, though his expression didn’t soften at all. “I believe Byron and Shelley are amongst the finest to ever grace this world. I doubt we shall ever see any others match their poetic genius. The beauty of their prose and their view of the world is so unique, don’t you think?”
For all that his words denoted a passionate heart, Mr. Moody’s expression altered little, his words coming in a monotone. But it was his statement (not his delivery) that had Katherine’s brows rising.
“I will agree that their imagery and use of words is quite impressive, sir, but I cannot say I like their view of the world or wish to be better acquainted with it.”
Mr. Moody straightened, his furrowed brows pinching closer together, putting the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes on full display. “Do not say you are like too many who cannot separate the actions of the artist from his work.”
“Actions are a manifestation of one’s thoughts and true desires, which colors one’s perception of the world. That, in turn, impacts one’s work. Poets write of the world as they see it and what they wish it to be, so I cannot separate my distaste for their personal lives from what they publish. They are intrinsically linked.”
The gentleman puffed up, looking as though her opinion was an affront to his dignity, rather than that of two men he’d likely never met. Mr. Moody launched into a diatribe, listing all the reasons the two ought to be celebrated, but Katherine was not swayed in the slightest. Both men had abandoned families to seek after their own pleasures, and she could never admire such self-centered behavior, especially as that jaded view of love and honor pervaded their works, seeking to justify their poor behavior and encourage others to do the same.
Turning back to the bushes, she continued to strip the branches of their berries. “I appreciate you are passionate about them, sir, and you are welcome to your opinion, but I assure you I am not swayed by your arguments. As I said, I do not care for them or their values. I am not insisting you believe as I do, so why are you so insistent that I come to your way of thinking?”
“Every man must educate when faced with ignorance. Your view of the world is narrow and ought to be widened, but I suppose I am a fool for expecting more of someone so poorly read as yourself,” he replied with a frown. “No doubt, you fill your head with silly romances and Gothic tales that have as much intellectual stimulation as a card party.”
“Such praise! I didn’t realize you hold romances and Gothic novels in such high esteem,” said Katherine, raising her brows and widening her eyes with feigned innocence. “As card games require an understanding of mathematics and strategy, it takes intellect to master them. I find card parties quite engaging, for they allow one to pit one’s skill against another and provide excellent mental stimulation whilst entertaining.”
Mr. Moody scoffed, his nose lifting and eyes narrowing as though he expected her to cower, but Katherine merely watched him with an impassive expression before he finally turned on his heel and marched away.
“Why did you run him off?” asked Benjamin with a frown. “You could’ve made yourself more agreeable instead of mocking him.”
Ice swept through her, and Katherine straightened, meeting her brother’s gaze. “Ah, I see. I ought to bow and scrape before any man who dares to give me the honor of his presence.”
Benjamin sighed, his shoulders dropping. “That is not what I meant, and you know it—”
“Oh, I understand far better than you do,dearbrother,” she said, fairly gagging on the endearment. How she hated the sound of it. Like iron scraping together, it shuddered down her spine. “My entire life, ourdearmother has tried her best to change me because I am so very unpalatable as I am. No one can ever desire my company unless I alter everything about myself.”
