Page 19 of The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart
“It seems that they just cast one another love eyes, without any real backing or conversation,” Ella murmured, careful to keep her voice low.
“I see,” Peter returned.
The noise of the party grew louder. He grew momentarily fearful, as though he wanted to dart back out of the mansion, return to his own world. For to commit to anything as silly as love was a formidable thing.
“Regardless, I think I will begin a sort of alternate conversation, one I’m rather sure Tatiana won’t be able to keep up with,” Ella continued. At this, she stopped short, blinking wide eyes towards him. “You don’t think it’s too cruel to do such a thing, at a party like this. You don’t think it’s too…”
“No,” Peter said, stopping with her.
Behind them, the maid nearly burst into them, showing that she hardly paid attention at all. Peter cast his eyes back towards her, giving a rueful look.
“In actuality, I think it’s an appropriate tactic,” Peter offered. “I’ll come up with my own version of that as the night wears on. Remember, Ella. We’re in this together. We both have a part to play. Let us consider ourselves actors, evoking the very best versions of ourselves for the betterment of our futures.”
Ella’s eyes connected with his for a long moment. But just before she was able to speak again, the parlour door opened, revealing one of Ella and Tatiana’s cousins, a rather stout yet eternally smiling woman named Ursula.
“Oh, there you are, goodness,” Ursula cried. She reached towards Ella, drew her hand around her wrist, and pulled her into the parlor. “And you’re Lord Holloway, I presume?”
She said it as though she’d already assumed something brewed between Ella and Peter. This made Peter’s stomach clench with resentment. Just because he spoke with a woman, didn’t mean he had any active interest in her. What was it with Society and their near-constant desire to draw people together for marriage?
“Greetings,” Peter said. “I believe we’ve met before.”
“Terribly sorry. I should reintroduce you,” Ella said, staggering a bit as she fell into the parlor.
“No time, darling,” Ursula chirped. “They’re seating us for the first course.”
Upon entering, Peter’s eyes immediately latched upon Tatiana. She was the belle of the ball, as per usual, the central focus amongst the rest of them. Her black hair was dark, glowing, flowing in curls from the up-do that she’d crafted along her neckline. Her gown was a soft green, which brought out the brightness of her eyes. As he entered, her eyes found his, seemingly greeting him, despite her insistence to remain in whatever banal conversation she currently found herself.
Beside her stood Frederick. He looked a bit lacklustre, a bit frightened of all the attention, perhaps. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he blinked around at the rest of the crew before his eyes landed upon Peter. They remained there, steady until Peter reminded himself he was surely meant to say hello. Frederick was his cousin, after all, despite being a far-away aspect of his current mind.
“Good evening, Frederick,” Peter said, clapping his hand atop Frederick’s shoulder.
At this, Tatiana’s eyes fluttered back towards him. Ella spun closer to them, her own eyes burning towards Frederick. Peter wanted to whisper to her to push back at her very clear determination of love. “You’re overdoing it, darling,” he imagined telling her. But how ridiculous it was to tamper with your own emotions.
“Shall we journey to the table with the rest of them, then?” Tatiana asked, flashing a bright smile towards Peter, one that nearly tore his entire body in two. “I dare say I’m hungrier than I should be, given the little dress my mother hopes I wear to the wedding. She brought a measuring tape around my waist, ticked her head to the left and the right, and said it simply wouldn’t do! And Ella, you know how Mother gets when she’s made up her mind about something.”
Peter couldn’t imagine a world in which either Ella or Tatiana had the sort of figure that would cause any sort of distress. In his mind, they were both physically beautifully, stunning, even. He supposed, for the first time, that it was probably rather difficult to have a mother, to squabble with a mother, who was losing her looks all the time whilst her daughters grew into theirs.
But he tabled that thought for another moment, choosing to follow Tatiana, Ella, Frederick, and the rest of them towards the table in the next room.
The dining room was decorated elaborately, with a dark green tablecloth and china with beautifully painted flowers and birds. Peter sat across from Ella. Frederick sat immediately to Peter’s left, while Tatiana sat to Ella’s right. The others, including Ursula, a Frenchman Peter had never met called Leo, a man named Gregor — perhaps another cousin, although Peter couldn’t be sure, along with three other women and their current courting partners, who were introduced to him at various points throughout the evening. Each time, their names arrived to his mind and then immediately fled, as though they were unable to stick.
Maids arrived and poured them each large glasses of wine. Tatiana sipped hers delicately, turning her eyes across the table. She seemed to be evaluating her team of players, who had arrived, who would celebrate with her. Peter longed to scurry into her tiny ear, to listen to her thoughts. Surely, they were just as beautiful as he thought they were.
“Shall we present a toast, then?” Ella offered. She drew her glass into the air, making very brief eye contact with Peter.
“Oh? Ella, really, it’s not necessary,” Tatiana chirped.
“It truly is, sister.” Ella cleared her throat, then drew her chair back even further, making it creak against the floorboards. “May we all enjoy our dinners, knowing in our hearts that we couldn’t have chosen a more perfect match,” she said, tilting her head. “To Tatiana and Frederick.”
“You’re evil,” Peter mouthed to Tatiana as she sat once more.
She shrugged in return, clearly pleased with herself. What sort of minx was this woman?
The dinner began. Soups were brought, placed before the various members of the dinner party, who began to slurp as softly as possible. Peter noted that Tatiana and Frederick hadn’t said a single word to one another in the previous five minutes. Frederick blinked at her anxiously, seemingly giving all the power to her. Peter guffawed at this, knowing that it wasn’t his place to begin conversation. But he ached, his ears filling with the humdrum information passed along from the other side of the table. Ursula described the long, arduous task of cleaning out her desk.
“Frederick,” Ella began, speaking as though she’d only just remembered something and hadn’t been brewing with it for months. “I don’t suppose you read the account of the fall of the Roman Empire I lent you a few months ago?”
Frederick chuckled at this. He lowered his spoon to the soup below, placed his fingers through one another and leaned on both hands. He beamed at her.
