She would be even more shocked to learn that I had rejected them.
Aunt Julia set to work writing a letter to my mother while I unraveled the rags from my hair. Thankfully the dark strands had curled neatly, and my cheeks were already slightly flushed. I stared at my reflection, attempting to capture once again the determination I had felt at Lady Benton’s party. I was not leaving Bath without a proposal. And it was going to be from Mr. Campbell.
When Hannah returned from delivering my letter, she abandoned her scones in the kitchen and helped me dress. I wore my white muslin dress with blue ribbons. My freckles came out in the sun, and the sky was cloudless that day, so she arranged my hair to fit perfectly under my bonnet.
The hours crawled by. It didn’t help that Aunt Julia announced the passage of each one, declaring how soon we would depart for the Circus. By the time we took our leave, I was more relieved than nervous.
I exchanged a glance with Freddy on the way out of the drawing room. He gave me an encouraging nod, and I ignored the pang of resentment that arose in my heart. I had promised Papa that I would look after him. But the pressure on my shoulders made each step difficult as I made my way to meet Mr. Campbell.
All the townhouses in the Circus were nearly identical to one another on the outside, neat and perfect, the golden stone facades curving in a circle facing inward. It was obvious why a man like Mr. Campbell had been drawn to such organized, elegant living quarters. He belonged there among the extravagantly dressed ladies and gentlemen strolling through the shared grounds.
I, on the other hand, felt entirely out of place. I had learned how to look elegant, but I hardly knew how to act like it,especially when I was uncomfortable. A tall woman with a fluffy orange Pomeranian walked past, her piercing gaze studying me from head to toe.
I stared up at the townhouse marked No. 6, the tall white doors looming ahead. What if Mr. Campbell didn’t even live here? The thought of being tricked so heartlessly made my stomach drop. Aunt Julia must have felt a similar sense of discontent, because she stopped walking a few paces short of the front steps.
“Go on,” she whispered in a somber voice, as if we were approaching a grave rather than a house.
She followed behind me as I stepped forward and knocked on the door. The sound echoed from within, and a butler opened the door within seconds. He ushered us into the entrance hall. It was far more spacious than it had appeared to be from the outside, with intricate wood and plasterwork covering every inch.
Portraits framed in gold lined the upper half of the walls. I recognized Mr. Campbell in one, with his stoic expression and perfectly arranged hair. A smaller portrait beside it was draped in a white sheet. I scowled at it, but I barely had time to examine the abnormality before a deep voice came from around the corner.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Cresswell.” A pause. “Miss Sharp.”
I turned, my heart leaping in my chest. Mr. Campbell strode forward, his gaze settling on me. “I’m pleased that you’ve accepted my invitation. I wasn’t certain you would.”
I stared up at him, struggling to find my voice. I had never been in his territory before. He fit in perfectly with the expensive furnishings, not a single hair out of place on his head. His eyes were not only blue; they were turquoise, layered with various shades of green. They looked far more pleasant when he was smiling, which he was doing now.
“As I said, I wasn’t otherwise engaged. And I do like to be engaged.” I grimaced the moment the words escaped me, but it was too late. I felt Aunt Julia tense beside me.
Half of Mr. Campbell’s mouth lifted. “And how often do you find yourself engaged, Miss Sharp?”
I thought of my last meeting with Kate, and the very direct advice she had given.Flirt with him in return.I was not doing very well so far. “My aunt would say not nearly often enough.”
Aunt Julia laughed, but it sounded more like a squeak.
Mr. Campbell examined my expression, an amused gleam in his eyes. “It is my belief that one engagement in a lifetime should be enough. Don’t you agree?”
I tipped my head to one side. “I don’t think we are referring to the same sort of engagement, sir.”
A low laugh escaped him. “My apologies.”
Aunt Julia appeared equally appalled and intrigued by the conversation she was witnessing. Mr. Campbell stepped forward and offered me his arm. “I hope our picnic is engaging enough for the time being.”
I wanted to ask about the pineapple, but decided that such a comment was better left for later when Aunt Julia was no longer within earshot. With my hand resting lightly on his arm, Mr. Campbell led me through a long corridor toward the back door of the house. Sunlight poured down on the walled garden, but there were a few spots of shade beneath the trees in the enclosed space. A narrow gravel path led toward a wooden bench with a trellis and climbing white roses. On a spot of grass beneath a tree was a large rug topped with pillows, a basket, and a tray with lemonade and water.
Mr. Campbell ushered Aunt Julia to the bench, where a maid seemed to have been hiding behind the roses. She stepped out with a tray of food and lemonade, placing it on the bench beside Aunt Julia. I watched in awe as the maid withdrew a fan, poisedto cool Aunt Julia should she make such a request. My aunt’s eyes drifted toward me, round with delight.
“I hope you find my servants attentive and well-trained,” Mr. Campbell said in a low voice as we continued our walk toward the rug.
I shot him a curious look before remembering what I had said to him the day before about liking large estates with well-trained, attentive servants. “Oh, yes. I must say they have impressed me thus far. Let us hope they continue to.”
Mr. Campbell turned away before I could see his reaction. Besides the pineapple, I had also mentioned something about diamonds, rubies, the opera, watercolor, and sorbets. I hadn’t been in earnest, of course, but Mr. Campbell seemed to be taking my words seriously. Or at least he was playing along with my game.
As we sat down on the rug, I noticed a set of watercolor paints and rolled canvases beside the picnic basket. Had he truly planned all of this for me in less than a day? I looked up at him as I adjusted my skirts around my ankles, feeling suddenly shy. Perhaps I should have told him about the things I actually liked. Instead, I was stuck pretending to have ‘fine taste,’ as he had called it.
I felt Mr. Campbell’s gaze on my face as I studied the spread of food and paint and tasseled pillows in front of me. I had never been presented with such an elaborate display before. No one had ever tried to impress me in such an obvious way. I hardly knew what to say or think.
“What lovely tassels.” I pointed at the nearest pillow.
