Page 23 of The Earl and Miss Muffet
“No, dear,” Lady Neeley leaned near Marg’s ear. “This is his brother.”
“The earl?”
“Yes, Lord Crawford.”
Marg nodded and pushed up her spectacles. They reminded Anton of the ones Miss Muffet used to wear.
“He’s not married?” Marg asked, turning so Anton could answer.
“No, your ladyship,” he said. This summer he had begun to resent being single, and his wandering thoughts about Miss Muffet seemed to add to his growing discontentment.
The guests were shown to their room where they could change for dinner, and Anton found himself wandering to his own room.
At dinner, Anton was seated farther from Miss Muffet because of the guests. He stole a glance in her direction, but her head was bent low over her meal, much like when she had first arrived.
“How long have you been here, Miss Muffet?” Lady Neeley asked. “I am happy to see you again.”
“Nearly a month,” Miss Muffet answered, her voice subdued.
“How wonderful. I had no idea.”
“I have invited her to stay for the wedding, Mama.” Sophia smiled at Miss Muffet. Miss Muffet’s sudden smile confused Anton. He thought she was ready to return home. “She has written to her parents, and we are hoping they will permit her to stay longer.”
“These three girls have become quite inseparable,” Mother explained to Lady Neeley.
Gunther groaned. “I fear after we wed, Mary will regret she cannot keep planning her wedding with her friends.” Several amused chuckles reverberated around the table.
Lord Neeley reached for his goblet. “What is this I hear about a picnic?”
“Papa, you must come.” Sophia turned in her seat to touch her father’s arm. “It will be a chance to meet a few members of the neighborhood.”
“Looks like I will have to turn in early tonight so I don’t sleep through it.”
Anton glanced down at Miss Muffet again. This time she was looking at him. Was she hoping he would help her get out of staying longer at Banbury? Did she need his help talking to his overbearing sister? Mary could be quite the storm, should she choose to be.
When dinner ended, the men stayed for port until Lord Neeley declared his intentions to retire for the night. “I don’t travel well in a carriage. My mother wouldn’t hear of me riding alongside. She can’t see well out the window, and she worries so.”
“Of course,” Anton said. “You must see to your health.” They all murmured goodnight, and he and the men moved into the drawing room where the ladies were visiting.
Everyone naturally paired off. Terrance sat by Sophia, Gunther by Mary, Mother by Lady Neeley, and Anton was drawnto Miss Muffet. Four people did not fit comfortably on the sofa, so when Mary and Gunther sat on the other end of them, Miss Muffet was forced to squish closer to Anton. Her small thigh pressed close to his. Their hands brushed, and she quickly moved hers to her lap.
What was clearly uncomfortable to her was anything but for him. “Are you feeling better than when I last saw you?”
“Yes, I am well.” Her words did not match her sober expression.
“Did I miss anything of importance while I was away?” he asked.
“No, I should think not. We met with a dressmaker, and Terrance interviewed a possible cook for his estate.”
“And what were the outcomes?”
Miss Muffet looked over to Mary and Gunther conversing next to them, then finally turned her face to him. “From what I hear, everything turned out as expected.”
Why was she being so tight-lipped? He hesitated, knowing the question he asked was more for her benefit than his own. “Would you like me to tell the others that you are ready to return home? They will understand.”
“No!” Her vehement response surprised him.
“Oh.” Perhaps he had misread her. “My apologies. I did not mean to overstep.”
