Page 21 of Falling for a Forsaken Marquess
Perhaps he might assume her to be forward, but Agnes was willing to do anything at this point. The duchess would have to forgive her and understand that her son was difficult to converse with.
It would be easier if she would make conversation that would draw him in, but the woman was too preoccupied listening to Mrs Mellors’ many stories about brides left behind on their wedding day and the men who fell in love with the wrong women. Agnes had yet to meet a person who could resist a story with drama, scandal, and intrigue.
Interestingly, Lord Hampton seemed disturbed as his jaw worked and his frown deepened by the minute. He evidently was not bothered by her interaction with his brother, leaving his mother and Mrs Mellors. The man either did not like gossip, or something about the stories had affected him.
“Do not mind my brother, Miss Humphries,” Lord Sculthorpe whispered. “He can be too severe at times and forgets that not everyone can be as serious as he.”
“Oh, I can be quite serious as well, My Lord, but my nature is usually cheerful. I have no prejudices against those whose disposition is less cheery.”
“What a delight you are, Miss Humphries!” Lord Sculthorpe exclaimed. “How glad I am that I stopped by the parlour on my way out. I would have been sorely disappointed to have missed this moment.”
“But you cannot miss what you have not experienced, My Lord,” Agnes argued. “If you had not met me, you would not have known that you would enjoy yourself in my company.”
“Right you are, but humour me, my kind lady,” he replied. “Would you believe it that I have never been to Lydney? It seems rather foolish as I have lived in Gloucestershire all my life.”
“I have yet to explore our county; thus, I cannot judge you, My Lord.”
“Perhaps we can gather a few others and make a travelling party to explore this county and others,” the man suggested. “But it would have to be in spring or summer. I do not fancy travelling in the cold and snow of winter.”
“Snow holds its own charm. It’s like tiny broken pieces of a cloud kissing one’s skin.”
“What a lovely image, Miss Humphries,” Lord Sculthorpe commented. “Are you a poet?”
“Heaven’s no! I enjoy reading poetry, but I am no poet, My Lord. I think it is a wonderful skill to put words together and invoke intense feelings in the reader. It’s a power that few have truly grasped and used to their advantage.”
“She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellow’d to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies.”
Agnes smiled. “Lord Byron. He has always had a way with words.”
“If I did not know any better, I would think he was writing about you,” Lord Sculthorpe declared.
Agnes couldn’t help laughing, startling the man. “Goodness me, My Lord! That is one of the silliest things anyone has ever said to me. Do you jest?”
Lord Sculthorpe appeared somewhat taken aback. “Well, no,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I thought you might enjoy the poem.”
“I do, but I am certainly no muse for a poet like Lord Byron. While I enjoy his works, his behaviour leaves much to be desired. Of course, others might think him wonderful, but I am rather wary of men without much regard for morals.”
“You’re a pious woman?”
“You make it seem like a curse, My Lord. I am no better or worse than the next person, but I would be a liar if I did not say that I have strong beliefs that many have trouble adhering to. Perhaps it is the extravagance of our times that has lowered the inhibitions of many, or just the fallen nature of man.”
The top of Lord Sculthorpe’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Are you a judgemental person, Miss Sculthorpe?”
“Certainly not!” Agnes exclaimed. “Far be it from me to point the finger at anyone else. I will admit that I become disappointed and, at times, angered by the terrible actions of others, but no one is perfect. Everyone is capable of change, even the most hardened thief; thus, mercy is preferable to judgement.”
Lord Sculthorpe stared at her for the longest time, saying nothing. He opened his mouth eventually, but the duchess stopped whatever he was about to say when she turned to Agnes and spoke to her for the first time since Lord Sculthorpe sat down beside her and engaged her in conversation.
“I have a lovely garden, Miss Humphries,” the duchess said. “Do you like flowers and plants?”
“I love them, Your Grace! I have a garden of my own at home and religiously spend time in it every day before the first meal of the day.”
“I simply knew you would be a kindred spirit, my dear,” the woman replied and turned to her eldest son. “Why don’t you show Miss Humphries the garden, dear?”
Agnes’ eyes widened at the thought of being alone with a man she had hardly spoken to in the last hour. Of course, servants would be milling about, so she would not be truly alone with him, but Agnes would not have Mrs Mellors, the duchess, or Lord Sculthorpe as mediators between them.
It would just be the two of them. Lord Hampton’s brow took on a deep frown, which was quite a feat as he had been frowning so much already. If he did not stop, he might permanently stay that way.
“I can do so if Miss Humphries wishes it,” he said.
