Page 2 of The Earl and Miss Muffet
“Good. I will accept Lady Crawford’s invitation, which gives you a week to prepare yourself. On the day of your departure, I will distract Bianca with a shopping trip and arrange a carriage to arrive while we are in town. When you return, I pray you will put these wicked ways behind you.”
Mother turned to leave, and silent tears finally escaped down Elena’s cheeks. All the pressures of her little world had driven her to a precipice, and this trip felt like a firm push off the edge. She never walked to town unattended, voiced her opinion in public, or spoke of scholarly subjects reserved for men. She strictly obeyed the moral code and protected her reputation as a lady at all costs. Such was the fate of their gender. It was a stifling lifestyle for some, but Elena could manage well if these were her only rules to guide herself by.
Bianca had forced her to follow an even stricter guideline. She was forbidden to paint, sing, or perform a musical instrument. She could never play cards, recite poetry, or even speak while in society. Thankfully, she could embroider and read without any fuss since those sorts of activities could be performed quietly. Any public discretion earned her Bianca’s wrath.
Had she not suffered enough all these years? She knew Mother felt some affection for her, but all she ever saw was her disappointment. With a visit to Lady Crawford, whose sons already knew of her pathetic existence, dare she even hope for a reprieve?
Chapter 2
Afarwindowwaspropped open in the drawing room of Banbury Castle, letting in an August breeze Anton could appreciate. He’d rather not be hot during an already uncomfortable situation. He sat across from his younger brother, sister, and best friend on one of three sofas situated around an empty fireplace. Mother had gathered them to greet Miss Muffet who had just arrived.
“I must warn you,” Blake Gunther said to Anton’s sister, Mary, “Miss Muffet is a total bore.” Gunther might be his soon-to-be brother and closest friend, but he deserved the slap on his shoulder he received from Mary.
“Don’t be rude.” Mary shook her head and turned to face Anton.
“Trust me,” Gunther said, fluffing his blond hair up off his forehead. “If you had been with her at the house party with your brothers and me, then you would understand. The woman does not engage in cards, play croquet, dance, or even speak.”
“Of course she speaks.” Mary laughed, her dark curls bouncing.
Unfortunately, this was how Anton remembered Miss Muffet too. “The only thing I have seen her do is sit down for meals, but I would not be surprised if she was too timid to eat.”
His brother, Terrance, reached forward and grabbed a handful of nuts from a decorative bowl on the tea tray. “I tried to engage her in conversation once or twice, but she said very little and did not appreciate my efforts.” He sat back and stretched out his long legs, dropping nuts into his mouth one at a time.
Anton tapped Terrance’s foot with his own. Time to get his family on board. “Miss Muffet might be as dull as dishwater, but I expect all of you to make her feel welcome here. Mama is completely exhausted from her trip and overwhelmed with two weddings on the horizon. We cannot expect her to play hostess around the clock.”
“You mean for us to take turns?” Mary asked.
“An excellent idea,” Anton said. “Who shall be first?”
Gunther scooted closer in his seat to Mary. “Since Mary and I are engaged, I shall assist her in her turn.”
“And it isn’t very proper for me to entertain her,” Terrance argued. “Miss Bliss would never permit it.” Anton tightened his hand on the arm of his chair. He had once thought Miss Bliss would be his fiancé, not his brother’s. Any mention of her name still bothered him.
“You can still visit with Miss Muffet after dinner,” Anton said, attempting to keep his voice even. “When Miss Bliss arrives, you can join forces like Gunther and Mary.”
Terrance wiped his forehead in relief like he’d escaped the guillotine. It looked like entertaining Miss Muffet would largely fall to Anton. He had more than enough to do running the estate and trying to get everything in order before another session of parliament. He had tenant problems and harvest looming. Heneeded to chaperone two engaged couples and now this. He pulled at his cravat. Someone had better open up a second window. He longed for fresh air. “All right,” he said, shifting in his seat, “do not forget your charges.”
“Yes, Father,” Terrance teased.
Anton picked up a nut from the tea tray and threw it at his brother just as Terrance turned away. It nailed him in the back of the head.
“Ouch!” Terrance cried.
“My apologies.” Anton smiled. “Your large head makes a perfect target.”
Terrance smirked. “I’ll return the favor when you least expect it.” They had never grown out of their brotherly pranks, so the threat was not a surprise.
“You might be taller,” Anton said, “but I am superior in my brother-torture skill set. It comes with age. A baby like you could never understand.” The insults were harmless, but they reminded him that he really did care about his brother—even if he was getting married before him. He was quickly losing everything of normalcy around him. It had been hard when Father died, but having his brother and sister marry and leave him behind might be worse.
The door opened, and they stood on ceremony. Mother guided Miss Muffet into the room. The bespectacled creature kept her head ducked and slightly turned away from them. Never had Anton met someone so painfully shy before.
“You remember my sons, Lord Crawford and Mr. Hadley?” Mother motioned to him and Terrance. They bowed like well-practiced soldiers—and just as serious. How could they not be under such awkward circumstances?
“How do you do?” Anton asked.
Miss Muffet, in her dowdy, shapeless gray dress curtsied, low and deep. She avoided his eyes and made no verbal greeting.
“And this is my daughter Lady Mary and her intended, Mr. Gunther. But you have met Mr. Gunther before. He lives a few miles away, and we see him quite regularly.”
