by Wendy Vella
Primrose took a sip of her soup while she put the words in order inside her head.
“I want you to ignore me for the remainder of the meal and afterward when we meet while here or in London. Be polite, but do not spend time in my company.”
She’d shocked him, because his mouth opened slightly and his lovely eyes widened.
“I beg your pardon?”
“If I may speak plainly?”
“Please do.”
“My mother and Lady Jane have hatched a plot to see me wed this season. My mother has no wish for me to return home, and Lady Jane is bored and sees me as something of a challenge.”
“Good God.”
“I have no wish to marry any of the men here,” Primrose charged on, undeterred by his blasphemy. “I wish to return home and marry the man I care for.”
His silence made Primrose wonder if in fact she’d made a fatal mistake in speaking her mind… again.
Chapter Six
Shock held Ben silent for a while. Shock that the woman beside him was being brutally honest. He’d never met anyone like Primrose Ainsley before. Men were often brutally honest, but rarely the women of his acquaintance. Of course, he excluded his sisters-in-law from that thought, they were nothing but honest… brutally so. But a debutante… rarely.
“I see,” he said, finding his voice, “and I gather the man you do wish to marry does not frequent society?”
“He does not.”
“Where does he reside, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“In the same village as my family.”
“A farmer?”
“Herbert is a curate in our local parish.”
“And does your father not wish you to marry this Herbert?”
She looked down at her soup as if it held the answer to his question.
“Miss Ainsley?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Because?”
“Because it is.”
“Which is not an answer.”
“Why do you care? Surely it matters nothing to you that I care for another, especially considering your high opinion of me.”
Ben’s sigh was loud enough for her to hear.
“I believe I have apologized for that and explained the reason behind comparing you to a gout-swollen toe.”
“Surely you can see it is best we simply do not converse again, as we can barely speak a civil word to each other?”
Ben moved slightly so his soup could be removed.
“We have spoken a mere handful of words. You have no way of knowing if we could be friends or not, Miss Ainsley.”
He looked at the woman seated beside him. Her dress was pale blue, simple except for the large bows under the puffed short sleeves. Her hair was in a bun with a matching bow pinned underneath it. She looked no different from any number of the women seated at this very table. Dressed as a young woman should be, and yet she was… very different.
“I have no wish for friends, and especially not someone like you.”
“What is wrong with me, Miss Ainsley?” Ben was sure he’d been insulted again.
“Nothing, but I am trying to explain to you that I care for another and have no wish for Lady Jane to get silly ideas that perhaps you are interested in me,” Primrose said quickly. “Please attempt to understand that.”
“Perhaps if you speak more slowly, I may grasp your meaning.”
“There is no need for sarcasm.”
“There is every need.”
“You’re angry.”
“A little, but more surprised, actually.” He wasn’t exactly angry, more piqued. His ego wasn’t monumental like some, but clearly he had one, as he was feeling quite put out at this woman’s obvious lack of interest in him. Curious.
“Because most women want to solicit your attentions? Yes, I’m sure it is quite a shock to you that I wish the opposite.”
“I’m quite sure my ego will cope,” he drawled. “And does this paragon Herbert the Honorable share your feelings?”
“There is no need to be rude, and it’s complicated.”
She smiled up at the servant placing the second course before her. Ben had seen no one else do that. It was a sweet smile, and made her face come alive.
He snorted. “Of course it is. In fact, I’d think it accurate to say that anything involving you would be complicated.”
“You don’t know that about me!”
He gave her a pitying glance that had her muttering something beneath her breath.
“Did you just curse at me using flowers?”
“No.”
“I’m sure you did, and I insist that you repeat it.” The woman had him wanting to growl one minute and laugh the next. “Go on.” He rotated a large finger in the air when she sighed.
Ignoring him, she placed some food in her mouth and chewed. Ben groaned as her jaw made a shocking click.
“Are you in pain?” She shot him a look. “You just moaned.”
“No.”
“Well then why did you moan?” She turned in her seat to look at him.
“Your jaw clicks when you eat.”
“Yes, and always has. Pray tell me why that makes you moan?”
He took a mouthful of food and chewed, hoping she’d just shut up. Unfortunately, she did the same, all the while watching him. Her jaw clicked again.
“You winced.”
“I’ll make you a deal, Miss Ainsley. If you tell me about your floral cursing, I’ll tell you why I winced,” Ben said.
She thought about that while she ate a little more.
“Very well. I will tell you, because after we leave Rossetter we will not encounter each other again.”
“Are you not to see out the remainder of the season in London then?” Ben said, perversely put out by her dismissal of him again.
“Of course. But you are popular; I am not.”
“Which means what?”
“How often have you seen or spoken to me at society functions, Mr. Hetherington?”
He would not feel ashamed because he had not made the effort to speak with her. He could not speak to every woman each evening.
“Explain about your floral curses, Miss Ainsley, before this discussion becomes an argument.”
“Are you suggesting I’m argumentative?”
Ben simply looked at her, and she had the grace to look away first.
“Bluebell and Carnation is…, well, it’s—”
“Hell and damnation.”
“Yes. My parents do not like bad language of any kind. When my brother and I were younger and he was not quite so tedious, we decided to use a few flowers as curse words. Bluebell and Carnation. Hollyhocks, as it has a good sound to it, don’t you think?”
“It certainly does,” he said solemnly.
“Prunus Avium—”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Wild Cherry. This was used as the most insulting curse.”
Ben laughed. He could not dispute the fact that Miss Ainsley was an entertaining, if slightly annoying dinner companion.
“How imaginative of you.”
“We thought so, as it meant we could shriek them at each other and our parents couldn’t be angry.”
“You and your brother sound like you had a great deal of fun growing up.”
“We did.” She delivered those words in a cold, flat tone that told him something was off with her relationship with her sibling.
“Are you no longer close?”
“He is a busy man now.”
Which told him precisely nothing.
“Of course. I understand he is a botanist like your parents?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Hence the fact you wish to wed Herbert the Honorable, so you can stay close to them when they are in England?” Ben was shamelessly fishing for information now.
She nodded.
“Does this paragon, Herbert the Honorable, reciprocate your feelings?”
“Your brother is trying to attract
your attention.”
“Tut tut, Miss Ainsley. You cannot hope to marry a curate and continue to tell lies. My brothers are in discussion with their adoring wives.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know my brothers.”
“I don’t understand.”
She had rather a charming nose when it was wrinkled like that.
“My brothers love their wives, truly, madly, deeply, Miss Ainsley. They are usually talking, touching, or simply looking at each other. It’s nauseating.”
“No, it’s not, and if you want to know what I think—”
“I hang on your every word.”
“You’re an extremely vexing man, do you know that?” She was glaring at him again.
“It’s my fondest wish.”
She tried to swallow the smile he saw in her eyes.
“That’s a pretty look on you.”
“Thank you. Now what I was going to say, was that you are jealous.”
“Of my brothers?” He’d never been jealous of Finn and Alex and wasn’t about to concede to it now.
Primrose nodded.
“Hardly. My observation, Miss Ainsley, is that this love they share is an extremely uncomfortable condition.”
“But a lovely one if a person finds that special someone to share their lives with.”
“You have a silly look on your face, wipe it away at once.”
“So you are a cynic, Mr. Hetherington.”
“A realist. What my brothers and a few others of my acquaintance have found is not for everyone. This I have learned by observing some of the marriages of society.”
“Thus, I want to marry a man I can respect.”
“You have not once mentioned the word love, Miss Ainsley.”
“Love is not for me, as it is for others. I merely wish to live a comfortable life with Herbert.”
“Excuse me, but you just alluded to the fact that you believed in love in marriage?”
“I never said I didn’t believe in it, I just don’t think it’s for me.”
“What about Herbert the Honorable? Does he reciprocate your feelings?”
“It’s complicated.”
“So you said.”
“H-he is not unaware of me… just not… well, he’s not terribly aware of me either.”
She shot him a look, and Ben could do nothing to stop the chuckle escaping.
“It is no laughing matter. If he were to just come about, I would not be here today. I could be home in Pickford.”
“With your family.”
“No, very likely on my own with the Putts.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask who the Putts are.”
The third course was placed before him, and Ben smiled at the servant.
“They are my parents’ staff.”
“Why are you alone with them?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Mr Hetherington.”
She clearly did not want to continue with this line of questioning.
“Just being polite, Miss Ainsley. Now back to Herbert. Perhaps he believes in true love and is simply not wanting companionship?”
“I had thought this too when my advances were met with politeness.”
This was too much for Ben; he started laughing again.
“Stop that!” she hissed.
“F-forgive me. What advances did you make?”
“Tell me why you winced when I ate?” she demanded. “I haven’t forgotten that I shared my secret and you have not.”
Ben picked up his glass and sipped. He wasn’t sure he felt comfortable giving this woman ammunition over him. But fair was fair.
“Certain types of noise are very uncomfortable for me.”
“Like a dog?”
“Extremely amusing, Miss Ainsley.”
“I thought so.”
“Chewing loudly, rustling—”
“Jaws that click?”
“Exactly. I have of course learned to deal with this ridiculous issue, but….”
“It’s still there. You are just older now, so you have to cope with it?”
“Exactly,” Ben said, surprised she understood.
“Miss Lydia is the local piano teacher in Pickford, and she is the same. She can’t abide sitting close to me when we eat.”
“Really? I’ve never met anyone else like me.” Ben felt better knowing he wasn’t the only one with his “condition,” as Alex called it.
“Oh, I think there are more than just two of you, but it’s my guess people simply don’t talk about it, as it makes them seem odd.”
“Are you saying I’m odd, Miss Ainsley?”
She raised a brow, and he barked out a loud laugh.
“Care to share the joke, Benjamin?”
As the words came from his eldest brother, Miss Ainsley turned to speak with him, and Ben had the ridiculous impulse to call her attention back to him. Odd.
“I have no idea what he has found humorous, my lord; he simply burst into spontaneous laughter. Is he quite all right?” She didn’t add “in the head,” but it was inferred that was exactly what she meant.
“I believe so, but he was dropped on his head often as a babe. Perhaps he is just now starting to exhibit symptoms.”
“That is a possibility,” she mused.
Ben decided that going forward it would pay to avoid this woman. She was a disturbing combination of wit and intelligence, both attractive qualities in a woman. Especially if you added a pretty face.
Not that she had shown him any partiality. In fact, the opposite was true.
“I am to go to the nursery and play hide-and-seek with the children and their parents in the morning. Would you care to join us, Miss Ainsley?”
God’s blood, hadn’t he just told himself not to engage with her?
“What… pardon?” she quickly added as she turned to face him again. “I have just told you why that cannot happen.”
“It is my niece Amanda’s sixth birthday, and her wish was to play hide-and-seek with adults, so we are obliging. I understand you want to avoid all contact with me, but that would mean you will miss all the fun. Besides, I am not proposing.”
“I do not wish to have fun with you.”
“Why do you wish to avoid all contact with my brother, Miss Ainsley? Has he done something reprehensible that I must thrash him for?”
The horrified look on her face at Finn’s words made Ben smile.
“Of course not, my lord. I just have no wish….” She hesitated.
“She has no wish for Lady Jane to link her with any man but Herbert the Honorable,” Ben added.
“Who is Herbert the Honorable?” Lord Levermarch enquired calmly.
“No one,” she hastened to add.
Ben winced as her heel ground into his foot. Granted, it was not sharp, but she had put some force behind the action.
“Oh, come now, that is a heartless way to treat your future husband. Dismissing him like that speaks to your callous nature.”
She could only be provoked so much, it seemed.
“Be quiet,” she said through clenched teeth before facing Finn once more.
“Herbert is a curate in my village. He is a friend.”
“For whom she holds no lasting passion, and yet wishes a comfortable marriage with,” Ben added.
“I wonder if he has always been this way, my lord?”
“Irritating, do you mean, Miss Ainsley?” Finn said.
She nodded. “I have no wish to be rude, but perhaps he was not disciplined enough, my lord?”
“Oh, he was. Both of the twins were unruly and ill-mannered from a young age. It took all my strength to wrestle them into the halfway decent people you see before you, Miss Ainsley.”
“You have my sympathies, my lord. The task must have been an onerous one.”
“In the extreme.” Finn’s expression was solemn.
“I fear we are being maligned, brother.” Ben looked across the table to where Alex sat.
“Has he sta
rted on our youth again?”
“He has.”
“It is a tale he trots out at will, Miss Ainsley. I would not set a great deal of stock in it,” Alex said.
He and his brothers bantered back and forth for a while, and he felt Primrose relax as she listened.
“Getting back to the game of hide-and-seek that started this crucifixion of my character, Miss Ainsley. Will you come?” Ben said a few minutes later.
“I will not.”
“I wager you will, because you are of a curious nature, Miss Ainsley. In fact, I would bet my latest mill that I will see you in the morning, ready and waiting to partake in our game.”
He couldn’t be sure, but thought she said, “not bloody likely,” under her breath.
Chapter Seven
Ben saw Primrose’s head as she peered around the edge of the doorway. Their eyes caught and held briefly, and then she disappeared.
“Come in, Miss Ainsley, we are just about to begin,” he called.
“Oh no, I was just passing, but thank you” was her muffled reply.
“Passing to where?” Ben regained his feet. Patting his nephew on the head, he walked through the door. Primrose was attempting to scurry away.
“We are on the third floor, so unless you are wishing to scale the roof, I fail to see how you could be passing.”
“I was strolling,” she said over her shoulder, a forced smile on her pretty face.
“Again, this is hardly the place for a morning stroll. Strolling is usually done in the gallery, or the grounds. Perhaps the orangery, and even—”
“Yes, yes, I take your point!” she snapped, stopping to face him, now wearing a frustrated look.
He was smiling again, just like he had several times last night through the meal he’d eaten seated beside her. Ben instantly removed it from his face. He could be pleasant and converse with this woman, but he would not be intrigued or interested by her.
“So what you actually wanted was not to miss out on all the fun, but you are unwilling to admit that fact. I believe I said as much last night, and that I would see you here.”
“You are an annoying man!”
“Amen.” Alex wandered past Primrose. “Try sharing your birthdate with the man, Miss Ainsley. It can be extremely taxing.”
