Pretentious Hearts

by M J Schlotter

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  “Allow me to introduce,” Charles smiled at the woman he had helped from the car, “the lovely Miss Emma Williamson of London.”

  Robert took Emma’s hand and kissed the top of her knuckles ever so lightly. He watched her deep cerulean eyes sparkle as he lowered her hand, and caught the slight fragrance of lavender and honey as the breeze rustled between them. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Williamson.”

  “Likewise, Lord Clifton,” Emma smiled, her dark brown hair framing her face.

  “And please allow me to also introduce,” Charles now turned towards the woman whose gloved hand Robert had gently released only moments prior. “The lovely Lady Jocelyn Shelby of Kent.”

  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Robert spoke, “I am glad you could accompany my good friend on his holiday. I am honored to be your host.” He added glancing at Charles who had a broad grin upon his face.

  “The pleasure is mine,” Lady Shelby remarked, as Robert once again took her hand and raised it to his lips.

  “I’ve heard so much about you from my dear friend Captain Wesley, I feel as though I already know you. Although, I do hope we shall have time to truly get acquainted,” Jocelyn smiled.

  “I’m sure whatever Charles has told you is most certainly greatly exaggerated.” Robert spoke as Charles chuckled.

  “Well, now that introductions are over,” Charles beamed, “Robert, this is some place,” he spoke shaking his head. “If I’d have known Ireland was this beautiful, I’d have come here a long time ago.” He remarked pulling a cigarette out from his pocket and offering the tin around.

  “If you’ll follow me inside,” Robert spoke, “I will give you all the grand tour.”

  “Lord Clifton,” Lady Shelby smiled fluttering her eyelashes, “Would you be so kind?” she spoke extending her hand.

  Robert, well acquainted with the customs of chivalry, offered her his arm as Charles escorted Miss Williamson. Walking up the stairs towards the front door with Lady Shelby’s arm wrapped around his, Robert now realized the true reason his friend had insisted on paying him a visit. It was not merely a social call or visit for an I.R.A. update, but rather, he thought with agitation, an ambush! Robert glanced at his friend, and catching his eye saw Charles wink and stifle a soft chuckle. Captain Wesley he knew was only trying to be a good friend, but Robert wished he would have left this aspect of his life alone, he did not need a matchmaker!

  Leading his guests through the foyer, Robert paraded them throughout the manor; and upon revealing his guest’s chambers, was greatly pleased when Charles, Miss Williamson, and Lady Shelby all gaped admiringly at the view from the periwinkle room where Lady Shelby would be staying. After the grand tour, Captain Wesley and Robert stepped into the library while the women freshened up and settled in.

  “So,” Charles spoke taking a seat in one of the wingback chairs near the window, “I don’t want the I.R.A. to consume all of our discussions while I’m here.”

  “Of course not, I’m sure you wish to regale me with all of Lady Shelby’s amiable qualities.” Robert interrupted, causing Charles to laugh and smiled deviously.

  “How about we just go ahead and discuss the I.R.A. though while we are presently alone. What have you been hearing or noticing since your last correspondence?” Charles inquired in all seriousness.

  Robert took a seat on the sofa opposite Captain Wesley. “When I first arrived and rented this place, the man who showed me around mentioned I might not find relaxation here with the ideas of Michael Collins floating around, though I did not hear much chatter. But then,” he continued, “I overhead a group a men planning a local I.R.A. faction at the pub the other day.” Charles’s expression was grave at Robert’s words.

  “There is also still the question of my cook,” Robert continued, “As I informed you, I suspect that she harbors sympathies for the Irish cause. After the confrontation I wrote about, she has been avoiding me. I have been speculating that her actions are either out of embarrassment or that she is afraid she will let information about the I.R.A. slip. I do though believe her to be harmless.” He added catching Charles’s slight concern.

  He shouldn’t have even mentioned Katie, he chided himself, but then again she had accused him of being an arrogant Englishman and told him to leave Ireland. So even though it was unlikely that she would kill him in his sleep, he should still make Charles aware of her so that he too could observe her actions. That is what a good agent would report, they would maintain their objectivity correct?

  “So, there has been increasing talk insinuating that the ideas of the I.R.A. are moving this direction and that there is now active and growing support,” Charles remarked. “Have there been any further attacks in the vicinity?”

  Robert stood up and walked to the desk at the other end of the room, then returned and handed Charles a newspaper clipping. “No, there have not, but look at this.”

  “British merchant ships caught on fire...five sailors killed...port authority deems event an unfortunate accident.” Charles read aloud, “This article is about the merchant vessels you wrote about, the event you do not believe was an accident. But why am I looking at it? Is there something else I should be seeing?”

  “Look at the men in the photo. The ones sitting on the steps.” Robert spoke as Charles examined the photograph more closely.

  “I was at the port the day after the incident,” Robert continued, “I made contact with the ship’s captains and they assured me that when the vessels were docked they contained no cargo that would have set off an explosion or continue the inferno that blazed.” Robert spoke gravely. He then conjectured, “I indeed believe that the local group of Collins’s supporters I observed forming is responsible for the event. The men in the photograph are the same men I observed in the pub.”

  “And what…” Charles began.

  What Captain Wesley had been about to say, however, Robert did not find out, for a voice clearing its throat suddenly drew them away from their conversation.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Katie spoke as both men looked in her direction. “But Mrs. Sparrow requested that I ask, Lord Clifton, if your company and ya would like beverages served outside.”

  “Yes,” Robert replied, “that would be lovely. Thank you Katie.” He watched as she retreated. Then folding the newspaper clipping and placing it back in the desk, he and Charles left the library foregoing at present any further discussion of the I.R.A.

  Chapter 20

  Outside on the veranda Robert proceeded to entertain his company, and as he drank his glass of lemonade, he listened to his friend’s discussion of London politics.

  “So you see Robert,” Charles spoke taking a swig from his glass, “things are a bit in shambles. The House of Lords and House of Commons are running everything into a muck trying to turn the post war economy around. What they need,” he continued passionately looking at Robert, “is someone who is not partial to any particular industry or well backed persons to breathe some life into their political agendas.”

  “I see,” Robert spoke setting his glass on the table, “and you suppose that I am that person?”

  “Well, naturally.” Charles smiled, “You were after all one of the youngest members in the House of Lord’s before the war, remember? Your political essays,” he rambled, “boast of new ideas and visions to better the English economy and government. Hell, you went to Oxford for God’s sake!” Charles exclaimed unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

  “Yes, well times are different now,” Robert muttered.

  “That’s a load of crock!” Charles sputtered, his voice full of frustration, “The only thing that’s different is that you’re abandoning your country by refusing to do what you were born to do.”

  “And what is that?” Robert shot somewhat icily, “Become some no good politician who engages in world wars while making the rest of the country’s citizens merely pawns?” His brown eyes glared at Charles.


  “Gentlemen,” Lady Shelby cut in, “Do try and remember we are on holiday,” she smiled placing her hand on Robert’s.

  “Yes, can’t we at least pretend we all agree so we can end this argument?” Miss Williamson added.

  “Fine,” Robert snapped, feeling his anger still bubbling under his skin. “This discussion ends here.”

  Pulling out a cigarette, Charles glowered at Robert as Lady Shelby and Miss Williamson steered the conversation to the less explosive subject of polo. Not wishing to force Robert into further retreat, yet still frustrated by his friend’s apathy and stubbornness, Charles proceeded to entertain the ladies with his knowledge of the sport and explain the reasons why he liked his favorite team.

  ​After finishing their lemonade, Robert led his companions back in doors. After their argument on the patio, a glance between both men forged the unspoken agreement to let bygones be bygones by shooting a friendly game of billiards.

  “Robert my friend, are you prepared for a thrashing?” Charles teased as he chalked his cue stick.

  “If you have improved since our last match, then there might be a possibility of it.” Robert joked.

  Puffing on his cigarette, Charles knocked the cue- ball breaking the game.

  “Have you found any interesting titles Miss Williamson?” Charles asked lining up his shot.

  Emma turned away from the bookshelf she had been pursuing. “Well, I don't know much about Irish history, so this volume sounded interesting.” She smiled holding up a large leather bound book.

  “If you find out anything interesting, you will have to share it. I'd be much appreciative.” Charles smiled back. “Ha! Alright, Robert. Let's see you make something out of that!”

  As Robert walked around the table looking for his shot, he noticed Lady Shelby was paying close attention to his every move. Feeling as though his collar was becoming tighter around his neck, he suddenly had a new appreciation for how a fish felt in a fishbowl as Lady Shelby placed her elbows on the table and smiled coyly at him.

  “I just don’t see why you men love this game so much,” she remarked.

  ​“Would you like to give it a whirl Lady Shelby?” Robert asked automatically.

  ​Closing the space between them, Lady Shelby smiled, “Must we be so formal?”

  ​Robert smelled a hint of jasmine as she moved closer, and he instantly regretted his offer as the room quickly began to feel like it had become a furnace when her face drew within inches of his own.

  “You can call me Jocelyn,” she smiled loosening the pool stick from his hand. Robert, suddenly unable to find his words, merely nodded.

  As he proceeded to help Jocelyn set up her shot, he saw a grin of satisfaction pass across Captain Wesley’s face. He was going to throttle Wesley! Lady Shelby touched his hand, then turned to smile at him.

  “Alright, Jocelyn,” Robert forced the words from his mouth. Damn! It was getting suffocating, his collar felt as if it were choking him. “Now shoot!” He helped her move the stick and watched as the balls ricochet off the sides of the table and two found the pockets.

  “Oh! I did it!” Jocelyn smiled, using her excitement as an excuse to hug Robert.

  When Katie walked into the room to announce lunch, the sight of Robert with his arms around Lady Shelby caused her to bump into the doorframe and flush when everyone in the room turned in her direction.

  ​Releasing Jocelyn’s arms, Robert stared at Katie. Was it his imagination or did she look angry?

  “Lunch is served,” Katie spoke, hoping she sounded normal.

  Robert heard the tension in her voice, no he was not mistaken she was angry! But why? She had made it perfectly clear what she thought of him.

  “And who is this lovely young woman?” Charles asked smiling at Robert, “I do not believe we were formally introduced earlier.” If Robert suspected his cook of having ties to the I.R.A., he was going to make sure she was never too far from his sight.

  “This,” Robert spoke curtly, “is Katie. My cook,” he added catching sight of Charles’s grin.

  Charles was being ridiculous! Did he honestly believe that he, Lord Clifton, was being flirtatious with his staff by calling her by her first name? He did not even know her last name he suddenly realized. If he was going to maintain formality, he knew he needed to figure it out. Or was it merely that Captain Wesley believed him to be incapable of speaking to a woman without swooning? Both thoughts were not only preposterous but infuriating and damn insulting to his character!

  “Well, I do believe Robert here has forgotten his manners.” Charles beamed, unaware of Robert’s annoyance. “I am Captain Charles Wesley, and this is the lovely Miss Emma Williamson and lovely Lady Jocelyn Shelby.”

  ​Katie smiled at Charles and the two women.

  “Charmed. Well,” Jocelyn spoke stepping closer to Robert and grabbing hold of his arm, “You heard the cook, shall we adjourn to the dining room?” She questioned as her eyes coolly appraised Katie.

  Reading Lady Shelby’s words as a dismissal, Katie left Robert and his guests and quickly headed towards the kitchen. It was clear to her what Lady Shelby thought of her, and if she was an acquaintance of Lord Clifton's, it was obvious what he thought of her too! She had been right she concluded, ladling out bowls of cheesy potato and cauliflower soup, Robert had never seen her as his friend, he only saw her as his cook. That was the way English nobility saw anyone beneath them, she fumed, not as people but as occupations. It had been absurd to ever think that Lord Clifton would have been any different. No, there would always be certain class barriers that would never be crossed.

  Setting the porcelain bowls on a try, Katie hastily wiped her hands on her apron before leaving for the dining room. With the additional guests, Mrs. Sparrow had declared she was much too busy to serve, and had refused to deliver anymore meals. Katie was now left with no alternative but to face Lord Clifton and his guests no matter how much she now despised this task.

  ​“Katie is the best cook in Ireland,” Robert remarked, hoping to impress his companions as she set the brimming bowls of soup in front of his guests.

  Refusing to meet Robert’s gaze, Katie kept her head down. Then swiftly placing a basket of warm potato cakes with brussel sprouts on the table, she retreated before Robert could glimpse the slight tinge of pink that was rising in her cheeks. For a man who was supposed to be rigid in the realms of social class, Lord Clifton continued to confuse her by his behavior. He had just given her a compliment.

  ​“This place is absolutely charming,” remarked Jocelyn, her voice filled with adulation. “How ever did you find it Robert?” she beamed.

  ​Wiping his mouth on his napkin, Robert took a sip of his Chardonnay. The way Lady Shelby gazed at him was like a lioness stalking its prey, he thought suddenly aware that his collar again felt as though it were choking him.

  ​“Charles here suggested I get away from England, try some new scenery. Ireland just seemed like a good choice.” Robert replied pushing aside the thought that presently America would have been a much better choice. Lying about his reasons for being in Ireland was becoming easier by the moment, it was almost frightening how easy.

  “It is beautiful,” Emma remarked. “I’ve been in London so long, I almost forgot what the country felt like. And now that the war is over...” she continued dipping her spoon into her bowl, “It is so nice to get away from all the memories.”

  Robert eyed Emma with interest. “Did you help the home front during the war then?” He asked.

  “Yes,” Emma remarked dabbing her napkin against her lips. “Lady Shelby and I were Red Cross nurses in London. We met Captain Wesley when he was injured and in our hospital.” She glanced at Charles and smiled, “He had such a sense of humor for someone who had shards of shrapnel in his leg.”

  ​“Let’s not talk about the war.” Charles spoke holding Emma’s gaze in an unspoken understanding. “It’s rather quaint here,” he smiled, “perfect for relaxation, aye Robert?”
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  ​“Yes,” Robert uttered swallowing the contents of his glass, “it has been a breath of fresh air.” Then deciding to continue he added, “I am still determined to forget Evanshire and England all together.”

  ​Charles looked horror stricken at these words, and Lady Shelby dumbfounded. Emma’s face, however, held understanding. Katie, who had been serving salads stared at Robert. He turned his head in her direction, his dark brown eyes holding her gaze, and she swore a glimmer of amusement flashed across the deep russet portals holding her captive. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, but remained where she was standing. Then, Lady Shelby glanced across the table at her, and Katie forced her eyes back to her task of clearing soup bowls and replacing them with salads.

  ​“This change of scenery,” Charles spoke finally managing to find his words, “was supposed to knock some sense into you. As your friend I came here to....”

  ​Realizing how big of an ass he was again being to his company, Robert forced the additional words he was about to utter to remain unspoken. Yes, he had purposely meant to agitate Charles, but this was a conversation for he and Charles alone. Instead he interrupted, “Evidently I haven’t had enough sense knocked into me yet,” he joked trying to alleviate the tension, “Forgive me Charles, Jocelyn, Emma. I should not have spoken so rashly, especially since you all traveled to visit me on your holiday.”