My laughter soon turned on me and tears of joy filled my eyes. I threw my arms around Aunt Harriet, hugging her tightly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. She will love London.”
I missed Whitney more and more every day. Just having her here with me would make this all so much easier.
“Of course, honey. I would have gotten her here sooner had your momma not been so difficult,” Aunt Harriet assured me. She didn’t need to explain that. I knew all about my mother and how she could be.
Aunt Harriet patted my back and then said, “It appears you’ve come to call and found us in a less than formal state, Mr. Compton. I do hope you can forgive us,” Aunt Harriet said over my shoulder in a tone that was light-hearted and not at all worried what he may think of all the emotion he had witnessed.
I pulled away from her then and wiped my eyes and face from the tears that had escaped. Crying in front of Mr. Compton hadn’t been my plan, but the emotions that hit me all at once had been too much. I went to sleep at night thinking of the day I would once again see my sister. My dreams were of when she would be given the opportunity to experience the London season and all the things she wanted so badly.
“Please do not apologize,” Mr. Compton said as I managed to dry my face enough to turn and face him again. He stood and I thought he was going to take his leave. For that I could not blame him. Most men would have bolted for the door well before now. However, he walked over to me and held out a small white starched handkerchief. I saw his initials in the top corner as I folded it before drying my face properly.
“Thank you,” I said, but I didn’t feel the need to make excuses for the scene he had witnessed. He had chosen to visit when we were not expecting visitors. My aunt was an American and her ways were not English ways. In her home, if she wanted to walk around in her bare feet and talk with her mouth full then she could. Furthermore, I was not trying to impress Mr. Compton. I knew he was not here for anything more than information on his brother.
Whereas I did believe Lord Ashington was truly seeking a wife, Mr. Compton was only seeking to cause trouble. I could be wrong but that was how it all seemed to be playing out thus far. Nicholas Compton was being much too obvious with his back and forth between me and Lydia Ramsbury. He had chosen no other female to escort to the opera, for a walk in the park, or for even a dance. There was nothing true about his intentions.
“I was unaware we had company. It was just that when I opened the letter and saw that Alfred’s sister had finally agreed to send her youngest daughter for a visit, I knew Miriam would want to know right away. She has missed her so very much,” Aunt Harriet continued to explain herself, which I wished she wouldn’t. None of this was of any concern to Mr. Compton nor would it ever be. I was not going to be a willing participant in his games.
“It is my belief that Miss Bathurst is a very lucky lady to have such a loving aunt on her side who champions her the way you do. I am but a visitor in your home and I feel honored to have witnessed such a touching scene between the two of you,” Mr. Compton replied.
Although I knew his response wasn’t proper at all, Aunt Harriet beamed, having no idea how informal he was being. This was her way and if it made her more comfortable, so be it. At this point, how more informal could we be? She was already in her bare feet and talking with her mouth full.
The maid entered with afternoon tea that I had forgotten I had rung for at Mr. Compton’s arrival.
“Oh, do stay for tea,” Aunt Harriet said to Mr. Compton, not realizing the afternoon tea was quite early and I must have already sent for it due to his visit.
“I would love to,” he replied then turned to me and gave me a small smile. It was our secret. He didn’t want her corrected and if I didn’t like him for it. Most gentlemen would criticize and find reasons to leave. Nicholas Compton might have some faults, but this was not one of them. He had good deep inside, if only he chose to use it more.
Aunt Harriet seemed more than thrilled by his response. She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Let me find my slippers and I will join you both shortly,” she said then turned and hurried back out the door.
When she was gone, Nicholas looked at me. “Do her feet not get cold?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No and it might be a while before she returns. She rarely remembers where she left them,” I replied honestly.
This caused him to laugh some more and I smiled as I took a sip of my tea. There was no harm in relaxing in his company. I knew he wasn’t here for reasons that concerned me. He simply came to find out what his brother’s intentions were. Truthfully, I doubted very much that Lord Ashington would spend much more time with me. I held no title and I was much too opinionated to be a countess. I had never thought to aspire to such ranks and I wasn’t sure I wanted to start. I needed a husband, but I didn’t require one with such a grand title.
These were the things I had been telling myself since arriving home last night. It did me no good to feel anything for Lord Ashington. There had been moments last night when an odd warmth in my chest startled me when I looked at him. He had been much more interesting than I had assumed. I believed he would make a fine husband. Just not mine. I wasn’t what he would choose as a wife and letting myself believe otherwise would lead to future heartbreak. For I was afraid I might find myself truly having feelings for Lord Ashington if I let my guard down.
“Tell me about your sister,” Mr. Compton said as he placed his cup of tea back on the table beside him.
The smile came easily to my lips as I thought of my sister’s arrival. “What is it you wish to know?” I asked him, not sure if he was truly interested or if he was seeking conversation only.
“Anything you wish to share. I’ve not heard you speak of her much and it is clear you two are very close. That is something quite foreign to me. Ashington is my only sibling.”
He didn’t need to say more. We both knew what he meant by that; however, I wasn’t sure it was Ashington’s fault entirely that the two hated each other. Nor was it my business to know the details of why they were at odds. Even if I did probe, I doubted very much that I would receive much truth. There was a gleam in Nicholas Compton’s eyes that made one question his sincerity.
“Whitney is a true beauty and brightens any room she enters. Her laughter is musical and she can make the dreariest of days happy. She finds joy in the simplest moments and makes one wish to see the world as she does. I don’t miss home, I miss Whitney. She is home to me.” It was easy to speak of my sister. Knowing she would be here with me soon eased the ache of missing her so much. Just speaking of her made my mood lift.
Mr. Compton said nothing but the way he looked upon me was puzzling. It was as if he were seeing someone he had never met. Measuring them and their words perhaps. It was an odd experience to be on the receiving end of such a gaze. I wondered what he was thinking, but I asked nothing, remaining silent.
When he finally spoke, he cleared his throat and leaned back in the velvet high back chair. “Not in all my days have I heard a lady speak of another with such honest reverence. Even amongst sisters, there is always a hedge, be it rivalry or jealousy. However, your words were spoken with such purity that it can’t be questioned.” He said this as if he couldn’t believe the words he was speaking.