So, he put on his coat and went downstairs.
The house was already moving around him, the staff preparing for the evening, flowers being arranged and furniture shifted. Hewalked through it and went to his study. There was a stack of papers on it, but he did not bother reading them.
No, something else was occupying his mind entirely.
The ball was tonight.
He had known this, of course. But something about the day having arrived irked him to no end.
Tonight Elias Talbot was going to ask her to marry him.
He picked up his pen, and made an annoyed scribble on the paper.
He had work to do. There was always work to do, as he looked at the papers and thought about drainage reports and estate accounts and the correspondence that had been sitting unanswered for three days. But none of it was sufficient for anything this morning.
Harrow appeared at the study door at half past nine.
“The preparations are coming along well, Your Grace,” he said. “The flowers have been arranged in the entrance hall and the drawing room. Cook has everything in hand for the supper. We will be ready by seven.”
“Good,” Harper said, without looking up from the papers he was not reading.
“There is one other thing,” Harrow said. “A delivery arrived this morning. Flowers, addressed to Miss Hosmer from Mr. Talbot. I have had them put in the entrance hall with the others.”
Harper looked up, unable to hide the annoyed expression on his face.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Oh, I just thought… well, it is good bring such things to your attention. Shall I move them somewhere else?” Harrow asked.
“No,” Harper said. “Leave them.”
Harrow nodded and went out.
Talbot had sent her flowers, Harper thought. Nothing original about it, and a woman like Temperance would tire from such a cliche gesture.
He picked up his pen and was not aware of how hard he was holding it until it snapped, cleanly, in two.
Harper had been in the study for two hours when he heard two of the maids in the corridor outside.
“She’s been up since six,” one of them said. “Had the flowers sorted before any of us had finished breakfast.”
“She always knows what she’s doing,” the other said. “You can tell she loves this house.”
There was a brief pause at the sound of something being carried past.
“Do you think he’ll ask her tonight?”
“Mr. Talbot? I think that’s rather the point of the evening, isn’t it. She deserves a good one after everything.”
“She really does. Did you see the dress?”
“The green one? I helped Mary with it this morning.”
“Isn’t it something.”
“I’ve never seen anything fit like that. Like it was made for her specifically. And the color….” there was a short, appreciative sound. “Whoever chose it has very good taste.”
“She looked beautiful,” the first said, simply. “Really beautiful.”
