not.
Mr. Everett went out.
Percival fidgeted in his seat. Miss Bolton looked likewise uncomfortable, and Percival wondered if she was concerned to be left in his presence without chaperone. Her servants were certainly within hearing distance if she called out or rang for them, and Mr. Everett would return imminently. Percival was aware that very conservative opinions might object to an unmarried young woman in a room alone with a young man to whom she was not related, and the most conservative opinions might express that her brother should certainly not have left her alone in the company of her male friends. Though he was not certain about how conservative Miss Bolton might be—she seemed, rather, to be quite headstrong in most matters—Percival expected that no sensible person would cast any aspersion upon Miss Bolton for receiving guests in her own drawing-room.
“Miss Bolton,” Percival attempted to resume his suit.
“Mr. Valentine,” Miss Bolton said, her voice rising more than was her usual habit. “Did you tell me that the Ilspeths should be provided a room or may we pack them away home at the end of the evening?”
“Oh, I think they can manage to return home, it would be more important to find rooms for people who have further to travel,” Percival replied. “But Miss Bolton—“
“That will be well, then,” Miss Bolton said. Her voice sounded strained and her cheeks were coloured.
Percival began to worry that perhaps his suit might not be welcome. “Miss Bolton,” he tried again, making it quick so that they should both have the matter over. “I wish to know whether you might be willing to consider my—consider the matter—whether I ought indeed—if you would be amiable to the idea of… of courtship .”
“Mr. Valentine,” Miss Bolton said, folding her hands in her lap. “It is ever so sweet of you, but I must most firmly express that my feelings toward you are entirely brotherly, and I will not consider the matter of marriage.”
“Oh!” said Percival. He cleared his throat and likewise folded his hands in his lap. “I—I quite understand. But we are—we are friends?”
“We are thedearest of friends, I assure you,” Miss Bolton said, smiling gently upon him.
“I am glad of that,” Percival said. “For I do most dearly value your friendship.”
“As do I value yours,” Miss Bolton assured him. “Now, we only have three rooms left that are not yet spoken for, but a requirement for five. How do you suppose—“
Mr. Everett returned to the room. He looked them over briefly, and then sat and took up his book without comment.
Percival wondered how they must look, with both of them flying their colours quite clearly on their faces and yet returned to friendly smiles.
“I think,” he said to Miss Bolton, “that Mrs. Wittersea’s request may be declined, and we may say that the rooms are already spoken for. We will need to apologise most profusely, and she will be displeased, but her need is simply not as great, no matter what her opinion on the matter might be.”
He glanced over toward Mr. Everett, but Mr. Everett did not look up from his reading. Even when the tea was brought, Mr. Everett sipped at his on the couch and did not deign to join the others at the table.
Percival worried about what might have put Mr. Everett in such ill humour, and feared that despite Mr. Everett’s assurances that he was only friends with Miss Bolton and his encouragement that Percival ought to put his suit forward, Mr. Everett might have some reason to object to the union. The matter was all quite settled now, but Percival had no idea how he might express that to Mr. Everett when it seemed that Mr. Everett was entirely opposed to conversation.
Mr. Bolton returned not long after. He was in much better humour after his ride, and the room lightened considerably with Mr. Bolton’s irreverent mirth. Percival was glad for it, although his gaze lingered upon Mr. Everett, who never once
Mr. Everett went out.
Percival fidgeted in his seat. Miss Bolton looked likewise uncomfortable, and Percival wondered if she was concerned to be left in his presence without chaperone. Her servants were certainly within hearing distance if she called out or rang for them, and Mr. Everett would return imminently. Percival was aware that very conservative opinions might object to an unmarried young woman in a room alone with a young man to whom she was not related, and the most conservative opinions might express that her brother should certainly not have left her alone in the company of her male friends. Though he was not certain about how conservative Miss Bolton might be—she seemed, rather, to be quite headstrong in most matters—Percival expected that no sensible person would cast any aspersion upon Miss Bolton for receiving guests in her own drawing-room.
“Miss Bolton,” Percival attempted to resume his suit.
“Mr. Valentine,” Miss Bolton said, her voice rising more than was her usual habit. “Did you tell me that the Ilspeths should be provided a room or may we pack them away home at the end of the evening?”
“Oh, I think they can manage to return home, it would be more important to find rooms for people who have further to travel,” Percival replied. “But Miss Bolton—“
“That will be well, then,” Miss Bolton said. Her voice sounded strained and her cheeks were coloured.
Percival began to worry that perhaps his suit might not be welcome. “Miss Bolton,” he tried again, making it quick so that they should both have the matter over. “I wish to know whether you might be willing to consider my—consider the matter—whether I ought indeed—if you would be amiable to the idea of… of courtship .”
“Mr. Valentine,” Miss Bolton said, folding her hands in her lap. “It is ever so sweet of you, but I must most firmly express that my feelings toward you are entirely brotherly, and I will not consider the matter of marriage.”
“Oh!” said Percival. He cleared his throat and likewise folded his hands in his lap. “I—I quite understand. But we are—we are friends?”
“We are thedearest of friends, I assure you,” Miss Bolton said, smiling gently upon him.
“I am glad of that,” Percival said. “For I do most dearly value your friendship.”
“As do I value yours,” Miss Bolton assured him. “Now, we only have three rooms left that are not yet spoken for, but a requirement for five. How do you suppose—“
Mr. Everett returned to the room. He looked them over briefly, and then sat and took up his book without comment.
Percival wondered how they must look, with both of them flying their colours quite clearly on their faces and yet returned to friendly smiles.
“I think,” he said to Miss Bolton, “that Mrs. Wittersea’s request may be declined, and we may say that the rooms are already spoken for. We will need to apologise most profusely, and she will be displeased, but her need is simply not as great, no matter what her opinion on the matter might be.”
He glanced over toward Mr. Everett, but Mr. Everett did not look up from his reading. Even when the tea was brought, Mr. Everett sipped at his on the couch and did not deign to join the others at the table.
Percival worried about what might have put Mr. Everett in such ill humour, and feared that despite Mr. Everett’s assurances that he was only friends with Miss Bolton and his encouragement that Percival ought to put his suit forward, Mr. Everett might have some reason to object to the union. The matter was all quite settled now, but Percival had no idea how he might express that to Mr. Everett when it seemed that Mr. Everett was entirely opposed to conversation.
Mr. Bolton returned not long after. He was in much better humour after his ride, and the room lightened considerably with Mr. Bolton’s irreverent mirth. Percival was glad for it, although his gaze lingered upon Mr. Everett, who never once
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