as her vision became blurred. “You look unwell, and you have not responded to your aunt’s question. My dear, can you hear me?”
Araminta attempted to focus on his words, to reply, but all she could think of was her future slipping away from her, and a sensation of being trapped overwhelmed her. Her vision darkened, and her beautiful face paled further, before she suddenly fainted in her chair.
The last thing she heard before unconsciousness descended was Sir Timothy’s voice near-by. “Lord Worthing? Miss Barrington?”
***
Araminta did not know how long she had been unconscious for, but when she came to, she found herself surrounded by concerned onlookers. Her Aunt Worthing was holding a blue cut-glass bottle of vinaigrette under her nose. Evangeline was fanning her with a beautiful fan of painted silk. Her head was pillowed on a cushion, and Sir Timothy knelt next to her, gently holding her gloved hand.
“Miss Barrington!” the young baronet gasped when he saw her eyes flutter open delicately. “She has woken up.”
“Please, give my niece some air,” Lady Worthing asked of the crowd, who drew back a little as the woman helped Araminta sit up.
“How are you, my dear?” Evangeline asked softly.
“Much better, thank you,” Araminta replied quietly, embarrassed at having made such a spectacle of herself. She was not given to fainting spells and dramatics. “I am sorry to have disrupted everyone’s enjoyment.”
“My dear girl, not at all!” cried Sir Timothy, as her uncle repeated the sentiment. “It must be all the excitement of tonight. And perhaps the heat, which I myself find quite unbearable. Ladies have delicate dispositions, and it is no wonder you fainted away. I am certain you are not the only one to feel lightheaded.”
“I am sure that is so, Sir Timothy”, Aunt Worthing agreed, as Araminta sat carefully in the chair from which she had just fallen. “Tell me, my dear, did you hit your head? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Oh, no, Aunt.” Araminta was very touched by her aunt’s concern. “I shall be well in a moment.”
“Perhaps a drink of water, and then I think it is best that we head off home. It is past midnight already,” said Lord Worthing. Araminta objected, not wishing to spoil the night for the Worthings, but they were quite decided on going home.
Sir Timothy was most attentive to her, handing her into the carriage personally, and expressing a desire to see her again soon. Lady Huston had come over to enquire after her, and offer her a bottle of her own smelling salts for the road, which Araminta politely refused, explaining that she had some in her reticule.
“I say, Araminta, it is a shame that you should be leaving us in one day. And for an entire week!” exclaimed Lady Worthing. “Especially since you have made such progress with Sir Timothy. And you have won Lady Huston’s favour, I am certain.”
“But, my pet, what are Sir Timothy and Lady Huston to our Araminta?” Lord Worthing said to his wife, a teasing note in his voice and a smile upon his distinguished face. On the way home from Lady Huston’s house, Araminta longed to lose herself in the scenery outside the windows of her uncle’s carriage, but it was too dark to see anything but vague shapes and faint outlines.
“You jest, Andrew, I know, but really you mustn’t tease us so,” his wife scolded warmly. “You know as well as I that your niece has captured the distinguished baronet’s eye. And what a match they will be. Sir Timothy has yet to come into all his property, you know. And he has such manners! And such a handsome countenance.”
“I am sure, Mama, that my cousin is well aware of all Sir Timothy’s charms. Perhaps it was at the thought of her good fortune, that she fell into a swoon tonight.” Susan had joined in the teasing and Araminta felt herself flush at the mention of her swoon. She felt it had been a ridiculous thing to have happened to her.
“But Susan, your cousin
Araminta attempted to focus on his words, to reply, but all she could think of was her future slipping away from her, and a sensation of being trapped overwhelmed her. Her vision darkened, and her beautiful face paled further, before she suddenly fainted in her chair.
The last thing she heard before unconsciousness descended was Sir Timothy’s voice near-by. “Lord Worthing? Miss Barrington?”
***
Araminta did not know how long she had been unconscious for, but when she came to, she found herself surrounded by concerned onlookers. Her Aunt Worthing was holding a blue cut-glass bottle of vinaigrette under her nose. Evangeline was fanning her with a beautiful fan of painted silk. Her head was pillowed on a cushion, and Sir Timothy knelt next to her, gently holding her gloved hand.
“Miss Barrington!” the young baronet gasped when he saw her eyes flutter open delicately. “She has woken up.”
“Please, give my niece some air,” Lady Worthing asked of the crowd, who drew back a little as the woman helped Araminta sit up.
“How are you, my dear?” Evangeline asked softly.
“Much better, thank you,” Araminta replied quietly, embarrassed at having made such a spectacle of herself. She was not given to fainting spells and dramatics. “I am sorry to have disrupted everyone’s enjoyment.”
“My dear girl, not at all!” cried Sir Timothy, as her uncle repeated the sentiment. “It must be all the excitement of tonight. And perhaps the heat, which I myself find quite unbearable. Ladies have delicate dispositions, and it is no wonder you fainted away. I am certain you are not the only one to feel lightheaded.”
“I am sure that is so, Sir Timothy”, Aunt Worthing agreed, as Araminta sat carefully in the chair from which she had just fallen. “Tell me, my dear, did you hit your head? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Oh, no, Aunt.” Araminta was very touched by her aunt’s concern. “I shall be well in a moment.”
“Perhaps a drink of water, and then I think it is best that we head off home. It is past midnight already,” said Lord Worthing. Araminta objected, not wishing to spoil the night for the Worthings, but they were quite decided on going home.
Sir Timothy was most attentive to her, handing her into the carriage personally, and expressing a desire to see her again soon. Lady Huston had come over to enquire after her, and offer her a bottle of her own smelling salts for the road, which Araminta politely refused, explaining that she had some in her reticule.
“I say, Araminta, it is a shame that you should be leaving us in one day. And for an entire week!” exclaimed Lady Worthing. “Especially since you have made such progress with Sir Timothy. And you have won Lady Huston’s favour, I am certain.”
“But, my pet, what are Sir Timothy and Lady Huston to our Araminta?” Lord Worthing said to his wife, a teasing note in his voice and a smile upon his distinguished face. On the way home from Lady Huston’s house, Araminta longed to lose herself in the scenery outside the windows of her uncle’s carriage, but it was too dark to see anything but vague shapes and faint outlines.
“You jest, Andrew, I know, but really you mustn’t tease us so,” his wife scolded warmly. “You know as well as I that your niece has captured the distinguished baronet’s eye. And what a match they will be. Sir Timothy has yet to come into all his property, you know. And he has such manners! And such a handsome countenance.”
“I am sure, Mama, that my cousin is well aware of all Sir Timothy’s charms. Perhaps it was at the thought of her good fortune, that she fell into a swoon tonight.” Susan had joined in the teasing and Araminta felt herself flush at the mention of her swoon. She felt it had been a ridiculous thing to have happened to her.
“But Susan, your cousin
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