Page 20 of A Lady’s Fairytale Come True
“Oh, yes,” he said indifferently. “Well, my grandmother was rather excited about this match. Tell me, does it please you?”
The question was forward and not appropriate. But he asked it nonetheless and his grandmother put her forehead in her hand as a show of dismay.
“Please forgive him, my dear,” she said, leaning over to Miss Digby. “He lacks the social skills of interacting with young ladies. It is not your fault that he has been so poorly trained in the art.”
Miss Digby shared a cautious smile with his grandmother and in that moment, he finally remembered her face.
It was only a week or so before, in the market. He remembered her and the way she had been so kind and sweet then as she was now. Yes, it was shameful that he was behaving indifferently towards her, but he had no option.
After his grandmother sipped the remainder of her tea, she excused herself.
“Please allow me to excuse myself. The two of you may get to know one another. And do not worry, Miss Digby. His awkwardness is not his fault and he shall improve,” she insisted.
When she departed, Nathaniel knew it was time to act. He could not allow this to continue a moment further. He had to ensure that Miss Digby would reject him eternally.
“So, I believe we met before, did we not?” he asked.
“Indeed, my lord. I was not expecting it to be you but when we were introduced just a moment ago, I recalled it,” she said, barely making eye contact with him.
“And I am detestable to you? You can’t seem to face me,” he commented, pointing out her discomfort.
“I am hardly a woman of nobility. It is not my place to engage freely with you, my lord,” she remarked.
“Not nobility? Your dress certainly seems to claim otherwise. Or perhaps it is just such a contrast to your previous apparel that I couldn’t tell the difference between you and any other young woman desiring a husband who will bring her status,” he accused rudely.
With that, she did look up at him, sharply focusing on his eyes. He saw the hurt burning within them, an anger he knew was justified. What he had said was cruel. He had made her out to be someone hunting for a wealthy husband when he imagined that his grandmother had probably put her in this horrible situation just as she had him.
“So my dress today displeases you and my former disgusts you. I cannot help but wonder what it might take to convince a man like yourself to be satisfied with anything. Of course, when you have been given everything your entire life, I suppose you haven’t had the opportunity to find out for yourself, have you?” she challenged him in reply.
Nathaniel was impressed. She was braver than he had given her credit for. Her willingness to speak to him on such a level, calling out his poor behaviour, showed that she was strong. But he couldn’t let her be strong. He was trying to offend her weaknesses, not her pride.
“Or perhaps it is because I have been given everything that I simply know what is my first choice and what is my last,” he told her, a slap of words that were far more harsh than he would have allowed himself to say in any other circumstance.
“A last choice. Something we both have in common. Something your grandmother sought to take advantage of. How chilling that we come from such drastic ends of society and yet meet for no other reason than a simple last choice,” she replied to him, slowly meting out each word that he might not miss the intention behind them.
She was good, certainly a formidable opponent. Miss Digby was able to use her words cleverly and with grace, not quite crossing the line with them as he had, but reaching that line, nonetheless.
“Miss Digby, I do wonder at that forked tongue of yours. Certainly not something belonging to a young woman,” he said, being the only thing he could think to reply with.
“Well, a young woman can speak as she sees fit. Perhaps that is why I am satisfied with being a woman and not a lady. But I suppose you have not had much interaction with women who can think, or are allowed to. You have been far too busy with those whose minds are as small as your own,” she retorted.
Nathaniel was quiet then for a moment. He didn’t know what to say. For everything that he was trying to throw at her, every way that he was attempting to wound her, she had a reply. She was better than he.
“Would you like to wander the gardens, Miss Digby?” he asked through a false smile and tensed jaw.
“Of course, my lord,” she replied with an equally hateful clench of her teeth.
They stood and began to walk together.
“What are your favourite flowers?” he asked.
“I think I like daisies best,” she replied, somewhat relaxed by such a simple question.
“Are they not a weed?” he asked in reply.
“Not as I see them,” she said, keeping her eyes away from him.
“Well, we do have different perspectives. And here I thought that all young women were meant to like roses best,” he remarked.
