Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice

by Heidi Ashworth

  He found he could withstand it no less and found himself suddenly next to her, drinking in the vibrant scene. “Pray, do tell me if I have done wrong. I was persuaded you did not wish to own it.”

  “Oh, but I did want it, quite desperately,” she replied, her gaze never leaving the canvas. “I merely felt it unwise to purchase it. You, however, have done no wrong in my mind; quite the contrary. I am gratified to know that it is here and so happily admired. You have masterfully arranged the entire room in celebration of it.”

  “I am delighted that you noticed. It is a beautiful painting and I’m afraid I have a decided weakness for all things beautiful. I hope it is not too bold of me to say that it brings me pleasure for reasons other than its beauty, as it never fails to bring you to mind each time I cast my eyes upon it.”

  She remained silent for so long, he feared that he had, indeed, been too bold, and was relieved, when she spoke, to find that he had not.

  “It pleases me to think that you shall remember me and that, when I think of this painting, as I shall every day of my life, I shall picture it here, in this room, its owner admiring it every bit as much as have I.”

  A suitable reply was beyond Colin’s powers at the moment; so moved was he by her words that he was made to relive again the emotions he experienced when she first walked through the door that evening. He knew himself to be the least knowledgeable person when it came to determining what it felt like to be in love, but he could say, in no uncertain terms, that what he felt for Miss Armistead was unlike any sensibility he had ever known. It was certainly one far deeper than what he had felt for Cecily Ponsonby.

  “Now it is I who fears she has done wrong,” Miss Armistead said quietly. When he did not immediately reply, she turned to gaze at him and he was astonished to see the same glow of admiration in her eyes for him as she demonstrated for the painting. They stood staring at one another so long that he forgot entirely every reason why he should not act on an overwhelming desire to put his lips to hers. Recalling their circumstances just in time, he noted that her cheeks turned bright red as she turned hastily away and he knew that she had somehow ascertained his longing.

  “Sir, I see that you have pressed a pair of Nubian slaves into service so as to illuminate your painting,” she said over-brightly.

  “I found I could not resist them. The blue of their jackets so exactly matches that of sky in the picture.”

  “Or, one could say, the same as the color of my eyes,” Miss Hale remarked from where she stood behind them.

  Colin hadn’t heard her approach and could not say how long she had stood there. It was a most discommodious sensation. “Yes, indeed, Miss Hale,” he said far more politely than he wished. “I am not the least loathe to admit that your eyes are of a deep hue not often found anywhere but in paintings.”

  She smiled her pleasure at his compliment but made no further remark.

  “I own myself surprised,” Miss Armistead said, perhaps in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction, “that a fashionable man such as you have no little, black boy to ride on the back of your carriage whilst you tool about London.”

  “Me? What should I do with such a fellow? Besides which, it should be an expensive prospect. I’m told children that age eat their heads off.”

  “Does this signify that you are in no hurry to fill your nursery?” Mrs. Armistead asked from across the room.

  He was more than a little dismayed that his private conversation with Miss Armistead had become a battle royal, but he hid his ire well. “No, not at all. I am more than happy to feed my own children any amount of food, especially if it should make their mother happy.” He said this with a smile that he just managed to refrain from bestowing on Miss Armistead. “However, a servant is something else entirely. It’s a matter of economics. I find that little, old ladies with no teeth eat the least.”

  “Well, this little old lady,” Lady Augusta chimed in, “has all of her teeth and she means to make the most of them.”

  “Dear Aunt, you make yourself sound an ancient and we all know that is not the case in the least,” Miss Armistead insisted.

  “Truer words were never spoken, Miss Armistead,” Colin readily agreed. “The four of you make an enchanting quartet, all of whom I hope to please with my plans for the evening.”

  “I shall be most amused to see how you carry out the dancing portion of the entertainments,” Analisa remarked. “I do not intend to sit idly by whilst you dance with each of us in turn.”

  “Ah, Analisa, I see that you have joined us. So, what is it you suggest, then? That the ladies should dance with one other?”

  “Why ever not?” Analisa asked with that twinkle in her eye that spelled her enjoyment of his predicament. “It shall doubtless prove tres amusant. This is why we are here ensemble, is it not? I should particularly enjoy getting to know Miss Elizabeth, as I should be most pleased to call her, a good deal better before she takes herself off to Scotland.”

  “In that case, you shall have first place on my dance card,” Miss Armistead replied with an answering twinkle.

  As Colin had immediately wished for that particular place, he found it difficult to share their amusement. “I have no wish to dampen your zeal, but the menu for dinner is such that you are all likely to be too full to take a step. That is, if you wish to spare me trouble with my cook. She is excellent when it comes to food, however, her temper leaves much to be desired.”

  With those words, the butler entered the room. “Sir, if it suits you, dinner is now served.”

  “Thank you, Evans, it suits me admirably.” Colin turned to take in his guests. “Shall we all be seated? Do feel free to ignore the place cards as at least four of them allotted are decidedly de trop.”

  A chorus of laughter rose up at his words and there was a general hubbub as the ladies took their seats. Colin was surprised and a little injured when Miss Armistead eagerly took her place at the center of the table rather than at one of the two nearest his own position at the head. As a result, his dinner partners were Miss Hale and Lady Augusta, the two ladies he felt the least desire with which to converse. Mrs. Armistead took up the place across from her daughter and Analisa was farthest away, a circumstance that prompted a feeling of having been abandoned. However, he was confident that once the food began to arrive that there would be much to discuss.

  With the help of Lady Augusta, he had chosen the menu with great pride and was very much looking forward to the reactions of the ladies from India. Though generally a dish reserved for breakfast, he greatly anticipated their reaction to a British staple, bubble and squeak, along with gooseberry on mashed turnips and Naples biscuits. Also to come were Welsh rarebit on toast, Salmagundi, white soup, jugged hare and meat pasties. Desert would consist of molded ices, flavored and shaped as various fruits, made from Gunter’s own receipt. Colin was delighted when he learned Cook was capable of creating her own ices and decided he should do himself a sad disservice were he to cause her to tender her resignation on that count alone.

  As the meal progressed, the blissful reaction of the ladies was all that he could have wished. The items that could not be had in India or required a British cook of some expertise to replicate with any success were all happily hailed and discussed at great length, and the ices were an absolute triumph. However, the delight of the ladies did not please him to the extent he had anticipated; certainly it was nothing compared to the pleasure he felt at the words with which Miss Armistead demonstrated her approval of the painting and it’s well thought out setting.

  He felt Analisa’s eyes upon him from her seat down table and saw that she had guessed his thoughts.

  “Ladies,” Analisa said brightly, “I believe we must do our best to work off our dinners. I, for one, wish to dance, do you not?” she asked with a look for Miss Armistead.

  “But, of course. You shan’t wiggle out of your promise as easily as that,” she replied.

  “Then, let us leave Colin to his own
devices for a bit whilst we all retire to a room where we can freshen up. Colin, you have a room set aside for the use of the ladies, do you not?”

  Colin did not. Or, at least, if he was possessed of a chamber prepared for such activities, he was unaware of it. In hopes that his former betrothed had thought of providing whatever was needful for afternoon callers, he rose and pulled the bell. “Evans shall escort you thither. Pray tell if there is anything else you need.”

  “I believe our lack of male guests requires that a footman or two be sent up to assist in moving the sofa and rolling back the carpet in the salon so we might commence dancing the moment we are returned.”

  “To be sure,” he replied with deep gratitude for his sister’s prudence.

  Evans entered and the requests were made, whereupon he led the ladies from the room with absolutely no sign that there was no portion of the house given over for the use of females and their needs. Once the door had shut behind the last of them, Colin collapsed into his chair, grateful for small miracles.

  By the time the ladies returned, the footman had prepared the room and Colin had recovered enough to spend a moment going through the music at the pianoforte. “I had hopes that you should be willing to play for us, Analisa.” The fact that he had forgotten to engage musicians was all of a piece and he loathed to admit it in the presence of Miss Armistead.

  “Of course I shall play, Colin, but surely there is another young lady present who possesses such skills. We shall take turns,” she said with a glance at the faces of the other ladies.

  “I play,” Miss Armistead readily admitted, much to Colin’s chagrin. He had hoped that she lacked the skill, making her available to dance all the evening.

  “Very good!” Analisa cried. “Come and turn the pages for me, Miss Elizabeth. We shall observe the others and speak snidely of them beneath our breaths,” she added with a smile that utterly belied her offensive words.

  “I am persuaded you shall have nothing but praise for myself and Mr. Lloyd-Jones as we waltz,” Miss Hale replied loftily.

  To his surprise, Miss Armistead and Analisa turned upon one another the self-same smile, one that indicated a wealth of meaning, all of which was a mystery to him. It cut him to the core that neither seemed the least interested in dancing with him. He envisaged an evening of longing to hold Miss Armistead in his arms whilst he danced with most everyone else.

  “Well then, Miss Hale,” he said duteously, “I shall be honored to partner you in a waltz if we are able to persuade Analisa to play one for us. However, as the innocent young maiden she is, she might not wish to participate in anything so scandalous,” he mocked with a sidelong look for his sister.

  “Yes, of course I shall!” Analisa replied. “Fortunately, my brother is an accomplished musician and keeps abreast of all the latest pieces. Ah! Here is just the one.”

  “Is that the very truth? Do you play, indeed?” Miss Armistead quizzed.

  “Not as well as my sister, but I do enjoy it.”

  “He plays far better than I, do be assured of that! I shall have him play something for us later this evening,” Analisa insisted.

  “I should be happy to do so but, as you can see, my work has been cut out for me,” he said with a smile that took in every lady in the room.

  Miss Hale stepped forward and placed her hand in his. “Dancing is not work, sir, but pure poetry. Do begin, Miss Lloyd-Jones, or we shall waste the evening in idle chit-chat.”

  None seemed capable of disobeying such a command and Colin and Miss Hale were in motion with no further delay. As conversation was entirely possible in such a setting, he felt he was expected to speak. However, whatever was said between them should be heard, at the very least, by the two older ladies who sat on the far side of the room from the pianoforte and who took no pains to hide the fact that they were actively eavesdropping. With a last covert glance at Miss Armistead, he cleared his throat and attempted to land on a suitable topic of conversation.

  “I had momentarily forgotten, Miss Hale, that you spent your childhood in India, just as has Miss Armistead. Perhaps you might regale me with tales of Bengal. I find that my interest in the subject grows with our every meeting.” Colin meant his comment to encompass all the ladies from India, but it was clear Miss Hale thought otherwise.

  “If I had known you were so interested in my childhood, I most certainly should have filled your ears, for it is all most exciting. Not for me, of course,” she was quick to add. “I am, in fact, quite accustomed to lions and elephants, you understand, though, I must confess, I never tire of spotting a leopard as they are rarely seen during the day.”

  “I am vastly relieved to know that, Miss Hale, as I am persuaded that the young ladies of Bengal are not allowed to wander about at night. Now I need not be apprehensive as to whether or not you shall become dinner to a leopard.”

  He could not say why he looked to Miss Armistead as he spoke, and though she did not turn to find his eyes on her, he was gratified to see that she smiled in reaction to his remark.

  “I have an elder brother, just as your sister does, but I am persuaded you are far more kind to her than Harold shall ever be to me,” Miss Hale said in tragic tones.

  “In that case, Miss Hale, I am in hopes that he is not often at home. What does he do?”

  “He makes money, stacks and stacks of it, just as Papa does. I have never bothered to learn precisely how they get their hands on it. I have been told that the mind of a woman is too genteel for such things.”

  Colin felt unable to serve her remark with an appropriate reply, especially in light of how Lady Augusta rolled her eyes in disgust at Miss Hale’s déclassé words. “Do you have sisters?” he asked in hopes of changing the subject.

  “Yes, indeed, all of them still in short skirts and excessively tiresome,” she said with a jaded air. “I should hardly say so, but I do not look forward to going home. I should much rather stay in England,” she added with a moue that he was persuaded was meant for him in spite of the way in which she turned her blue eyes to the wall.

  He stole another glance at Miss Armistead and saw that, this time, she did not smile. In point of fact, she looked more than a little low and he wondered what could account for it.

  “Has your father sent you here to find a husband, then? I should have thought there were more than enough British officers in Bengal from which to choose now that Miss Armistead has made her choice.” The words were out before he ascertained the unpleasant light in which they put Miss Hale. Now that they were said, however, he could not think how to unsay them. His gaze flew once again to Miss Armistead at the pianoforte in hopes that she might discover the means to rescue him.

  “I do believe that what Mr. Lloyd-Jones meant to say,” Miss Armistead began slowly, “is that one hardly need send one’s daughter to England to secure a husband, is that not so, Mr. Lloyd-Jones? After all, it is common knowledge that I failed to receive a single offer the year I enjoyed my London season. Love and happiness were waiting for me back in India all along.”

  Though Colin could not like all that Miss Armistead said, he could not help but compare her to his sister with most favorable results. Both seemed to say the right thing, always, in spite of the lively sense of humor they seemed to share. In contrast, Miss Hale, whose vivid blue eyes were even now filling with tears, had proven to be more than a little indiscreet.

  “My dear Miss Hale, I am persuaded there are dozens of young soldiers back at home who are pining away for you. Marriage to any one of them should return you to the British Isles post haste.”

  To his extreme discomfiture, rather than Miss Hale’s mood being bolstered by his words, she burst into a proper bout of tears, whereupon Miss Armistead abandoned her post at the pianoforte, took Miss Hale in her arms and drew her a few paces away while Mrs. Armistead and Lady Augusta looked on in horror. “Mr. Lloyd-Jones, I should be most grateful if you and your sister played something lively, as a duet. Wouldn’t that be diverting, Katherine?” she a
sked of her friend.

  Miss Hale, who had already begun to rally, nodded her head and sniffed.

  Colin immediately moved to the pianoforte and quickly located just the right piece of music, a Mozart variation that required four hands. He was delighted to play it with his sister as he had longed to do since he had purchased the music. However, the notion of having Miss Armistead at his side as they played was one he could not readily dismiss.

  An image of her seated in the shadows of a dark and cold hovel in the wilds of Scotland, one entirely devoid of a pianoforte, a proper library or even a book, rose unbidden in his mind. He shivered and Analisa turned a wide-eyed look on him that indicated she had felt the tremor that passed through him. He feigned not to notice and diverted his attention to the hoped-for recovery of Miss Hale. He saw that Miss Armistead had a masterful command of the situation but hoped he might take an action that would somehow make amends. “Miss Hale, I daresay you play. Are you familiar with this piece? I am persuaded Analisa should yield her place in your favor.”

  Smiles wreathed every face at his suggestion and Miss Hale eagerly took Analisa’s place at the pianoforte.

  Chapter Eight

  “The time has arrived for you to partner me, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Lloyd-Jones urged. As the two of them clasped hands, Elizabeth was only too happy to finally have the opportunity to dance. To her satisfaction, the older ladies seemed to be enjoying themselves as they clapped their hands and stamped their feet in time to the music. All in all, it was vastly diverting and it served to distract Katherine from her wounded feelings.

  However, the new arrangement put Mr. Lloyd-Jones in proximity to Katherine’s clumsy attempts to attach him. Why Elizabeth should be in the least put out by the thought of Mr. Lloyd-Jones and Katherine together, she could not say. And yet, she was vastly relieved when, the moment the piece was finished, Mr. Lloyd-Jones rose from the bench and favored Katherine with a bow. “I feel privileged to have played with such a fine musician, Miss Hale, but I find I must return to my role as the only suitable partner available to a room full of ladies, all of whom have clearly demonstrated their love of dance.”