If you missed Part 1 of Rowena’s story, click here.
The fire was beginning to feel overly warm as Rowena forced herself to listen graciously to her twittering visitor, Miss Carolina Windshaw. Her current topic was the ornate gold lined wallpaper her mother had ordered for their sitting room. In fact, she was going into great detail to ensure that Rowena could picture it.
Thus, when Rowena heard the front door open she had been praying for a new addition to the room to divert the girl from her topic. However, Hersh’s crisp footsteps clicked right past the sitting room. She almost missed Miss Carolina’s question because of how closely she was listening to see if she could hear Hersh announce her father’s guest. Father so rarely had anyone come to their home for business that anyone arriving to see him was intriguing. Yet today was even more so as she waited for Lord Wallis to appear, as promised.
“Miss Rowena.” Miss Carolina exclaimed, clapping her hands to her bosom. “The shade of blue of the flowers is exquisite to the extreme, a perfect complement to the gold. Do say you will come see it once it is installed.”
Dividing her attention, she nodded. “Of course I will. After your description, how could I not?”
As Miss Carolina was nodding, Rowena nearly fell out of her chair when she heard Hersh’s voice.
“Lord Wallis to see you, my lord.” Hersh had announced their guest much louder than normal.
Apparently Hersh had guessed at her eavesdropping and knew she would want to hear that Lord Wallis was the one to call.
Thankfully, Miss Windshaw was more overcome by the suddenness of Rowena’s fall than any noise out in the hallway.
“Miss Rowena!” The girl gasped in startled dismay. “Are you alright? You look extremely peaked. Oh dear, I must have stayed overlong and exhausted your delicate sensibilities. Forgive me. My mama is always going on about how I chatter too much. I shall call on you again soon to check on you. Please, do go lay down and rest yourself.”
Rowena was indeed surprised. Miss Carolina never left before Rowena practically shoved her out the door. Yet, one slip off her chair and the girl was gone.
She resettled back in her chair, listening to any noise coming from the direction of the study. Her tortured wait was not long in the making. She heard the study door open only a few minutes later.
Quickly she busied herself with her embroidery, positioning herself to face slightly away from the door.
Hersh cleared his throat. “Miss Dalton. Lord Wallis to see you. Shall I fetch your maid?”
“Yes, thank you Hersh.” Rowena focused on her family’s butler and smiled.
Lord Wallis entered the room as a general would enter the command tent on the battlefield, full of importance.
As he strode confidently toward her Rowena gave her attention back to her embroidery, affecting a shy demure blush as she did. “Forgive me, my Lord, I was not expecting the need of a maid this afternoon.”
He stopped a few steps from her, well within the bounds of propriety should anyone glance into the room. There he stayed, his hands clasped behind him as if he were a father waiting for his child to notice how stern he was being. Rowena refused to play and stayed silent with all her attention fixed upon her tiny stitches.
Lord Wallis was left to break the silence himself. “Indeed? Even though I stated I would be coming?”
Rowena spotted her maid enter and take a seat on a small chair by the door. Only then did she look up at her guest. “Lord Wallis. You merely stated you would be coming to speak with my father. And he has many business interests. How could I suppose that to mean you were also intending to grace me with your powerful presence?”
“Don’t.” His voice, though even, was low and purposeful.
Rowena smiled. She could not keep the bitterness from it. “Don’t what? Pretend I know you? Act as though I don’t? Flatter you as I have been taught; which is vital and necessary whenever I am addressed by a Peer? Or perhaps it is my embroidery that offends you so?”
His slow deep breath pulled at her senses. “I came to apologize, Miss Dalton.”
“You said as much last night though I could not state or recall any wrong visited upon me from you.”
“You are being difficult, Miss Dalton.”
Rowena stood, fisted hands hidden by her skirts. “And you are being obtuse. I will not forgive you without knowing what it is you feel the need to apologize for. And before you spout some bland nonsense, I should point out that any lack of acquaintance between us since my coming out has been laid solely at my feet from the start.”
He stepped back as if stunned. “Your fault? How?”
Rowena recalled herself enough to primly sit back down in her seat, slowly laying her hands in her lap. “My father was quick to list off many events, instances, and character flaws of mine that would cause such a callous brush off from a titled childhood friend.”
“Rowena. Please allow me to apologize.” He sat on the couch opposite her. “Hear what I have to say.”
“To what end?” Rowena angled away, looking out toward the window. “I was mortified when I approached you that first time and was met with a blank stare and a cold brush off as if I were a street urchin who had the audacity of coming too close. Your friends laughed at me as I left. I do not know if I want to hear what you have to say.”
When he did not say more, Rowena found herself holding her breath. Minutes passed and Rowena refused to fidget or look at him. Instead her gaze settled on the opposite wall.
“Rowena. I have nothing I could say that would amend or heal the pain I caused. I was a selfish, entitled, ignorant youth trying to impress his friends.”
“Was?”
He chuckled. “I am trying to change. And so if you cannot accept my apology, I hope you can bear to give mercy as I attempt to show you that I can be the friend you had hoped.”
“Friend?” Rowena pinned him with a piercing stare. “You want to be my friend? Why?”
“Must there be a motive?” His head cocked slightly to the side.
“Yes.” She smiled but the warmth of it did not reach her eyes. “Which of my friends are you attempting to woo that you would need my help?”
“None.”
Rowena gazed harder at his face as if she could pry the truth from the expressions there. “I don’t believe you.”
Read Part 3 of Rowena’s story by clicking here.
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