Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Chapter Six
Miss Miriam Bathurst
Rising early had always been something I enjoyed. A good book, a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of warm toast was my ideal morning. Awakening to dress and prepare for callers was not my idea of an enjoyable morning, yet it was to be my life for a time, it would seem. The sooner I found a husband, the sooner this ended and along with it, my freedom.
With a deep sigh, I felt so clearly in my soul, I made my way to the drawing room. At home, I would often find my mother and sister in the drawing room when it neared noon. My mother would be with her needlework and Whitney would be at the pianoforte. However, here in my uncle’s home, it was much different for my aunt Harriet wanted nothing to do with needlework or music.
A plate of chocolates was by her side as she sat rather unladylike on the sofa with her slippers abandoned on the floor and her bare feet, not even covered by stockings, tucked beneath her. In her lap lay a correspondence it would seem. My aunt wasn’t one to enjoy literature; however, she did find entertainment in letters from her family in New Orleans and in the gossip papers of which my uncle didn’t approve. He often complained of the cost of such scandalous society papers, but he would then soften when Aunt Harriet would flash her smile at him.
Aunt Harriet lifted her head from the letter she had been reading and beamed brightly at me. “You are a vision. The gentlemen callers will be more enamored this morning than they were last night.” She dropped her bare feet to the floor and held the paper in her lap toward me. “You must read this. My cousin, Adelle, wrote to me about our most recent family scandal.”
“Most recent?” I asked as I reached out to take the letter from her.
“Oh yes. My family tends to find themselves in compromising positions quite often,” she replied with a touch of pride in her voice that was both scandalous and amusing. Much like her bare feet.
“Alfred said something about expecting gentlemen callers I believe within the next hour. I’m to chaperone and there is a time limit on what is proper for their visit?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.
“It will be awhile still yet. No man of his ilk would arrive at a lady’s home this early,” Uncle Alfred said as he entered the room. “Already in your chocolates I see, my love,” he asked his wife with a teasing tone.
Aunt Harriet popped one in her mouth and smiled as her cheeks puffed out.
“When I go broke, dear child, let it be known it was because of my wife’s addiction to chocolate and gossip papers. Both of which cost more than they are worth. Now, do tell me what it was you said to Ashington last night. It appears to have made the rounds rather swiftly.”
I felt my face heat up. How had my uncle already heard of this, if not from my aunt? Surely it wasn’t important enough for talk. It was simply a dance. Nothing more. I cleared my throat to stall when Aunt Harriet managed to finish the chocolate she had stuffed into her mouth.
“You could have asked me. I was there you know. Don’t embarrass her,” Aunt Harriet scolded him.
He looked taken aback. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass the child. I was impressed. Her first ball and she was already making the news circuit.”
Aunt Harriet rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, Alfred. Of all things.”
“Tis true! She turned down Ashington flat, they say. While all the other ladies were hot on his coattails, I assume. Not my niece,” he sounded proud as he said it and I was relieved.
“She was quite the bell of the ball. The gentlemen were all enamored but then she’s a beauty like no other,” Aunt Harriet bragged then ate another chocolate. This one she took a nibble from rather than place the entire piece in her mouth.
I did not agree that I was the bell of the ball. It was clear Lydia Ramsbury held that title and rightfully so. She was a true English beauty. I was doing my best not to appear an imposter.
“Tell me then exactly what you said to Ashington,” Uncle Alfred demanded then slapped his knee as he sat down across from me. He appeared ready to hear of a great tale.
“It was nothing really. I believe the gossips have turned it into something more than it truly was,” I said, wishing I didn’t have to rehash this.
Uncle Alfred chuckled. “No doubt. They always do, dear girl, but I want to know the real story.”
It was becoming clear that I wasn’t getting out of this.