Lord Williams traded his seat for one near us. “Mr. Lundall, you seem a man of solid sense and good taste. Miss Brinton and I were in conversation earlier and could not arrive at an agreement. Do tell us, what means would you go to in order to protect someone you knew to be in danger?”
His wording made him seem wholly benevolent. I glared at him. “Mr. Lundall, please pay no heed to his lordship.”
Mr. Lundall leaned toward me again and loudly whispered, “Though it pains me to do anything you do not wish, I cannot singly ignore his lordship when he has so graciously accepted me into his home.” He straightened. “Do you speak of mortal danger or a more philosophical danger?”
“I apologize,” Lord Williams said. “Danger of making a choice the person would rue for the rest of his or her life.”
“That is not accurate,” I said. “It is a choice others might think would make the person unhappy, but that person is certain is perfect.” Although I wasn’t so certain anymore. But no one, especially not Lord Williams, needed to know that.
“In that case, I would endeavor to help this person see the error of his or her choice,” Mr. Lundall advised.
“It is not an error,” I said.
Lord Williams spoke over me. “And if the person did not heed your counsel?”
He would not be the only voice in this conversation. I turned to Mr. Lundall. “Would you, for instance, take measures to force the person to make a different choice, one that might inadvertently be worse?”
“Worse?” Lord Williams gestured around the room. “This is worse?”
“It isn’t about the location,” I muttered.
“If it were a person I cared for,” Mr. Lundall said quietly, “I would ensure the person’s safety and then hope to be granted enough time for each of us to understand the reasons behind the choices of the other.”
His sincere response was so out of character that it gave me pause. “I think that a very good plan,” I said tentatively.
“Yes. I wholly agree.” Lord Williams’s eyes met mine. “I am glad we are in agreement that the safety of the one in question is of paramount import.”
He viewed his engagement to me as securing my safety? “Rash actions are never safe decisions,” I replied.
Lord Williams leaned forward. “Mr. Lundall, as a man of experience who has obviously seen much of the world, what would you do to win the good opinion of someone you cared for?”
I shook my head. “This seems an irrelevant question.”
“Does it?” Again Lord Williams’s gaze met mine. What was he about now? Had he decided on some new venture to prove me wrong? Or had he decided that he had not succeeded in fully proving his point of the weakness in my plan and wished to pursue the matter more?
“Of what are you speaking?” Lady Cox called from the card table. “It seems to have Miss Brinton in something of a flushed state.”
I felt my cheeks. They were a little warm. “We are speaking of winning hearts, your ladyship. I would dearly love to know what you suggest for a man to win a woman’s affection.”
“Flowers. Gifts. Those are the most obvious,” she said. Those were the same things Lord Williams had listed. My gaze leapt to him. He made a small kissing motion with his lips.
Abominable conceit.
“But it is important to consider the person’s temperament,” Mr. Lundall broke in. “An overabundance of such things, when the person is not inclined to enjoy them, can have an opposite effect of the one desired.”
This was a lesson Mr. Lundall had so kindly taught us both.
Lady Cox scoffed. “What woman does not enjoy flowers and gifts?”
“I very much enjoy both,” Lady Williams agreed. “But it also depends on the giver. If there isn’t foundational attachment, no amount of gifts will change that.”
Mrs. Hargreaves nodded. “Den Nagel auf den Kopf trefft.”
“Oh, really,” Lady Cox said with exasperation.
“I believe,” Mrs. Hargreaves said, “that this is also a saying in your language? Lady Williams has rather hit the nail on the head?”
Lady Cox turned away from her. “Lord Williams is rather talented at selecting gifts fit for the recipient, is he not, Elisa?”
“Oh, yes,” Miss Perrin stuttered, glancing between Lord Williams and me.
“Has he ever given you a gift, Miss Brinton?” Lady Cox asked.
“Only the gift of his opinions and counsel,” I assured her. “Though I have no doubt that whatever gifts he gives, he does so with impeccable ability, as his taste is rather refined.” I shot him a smile.
“It seems I have been remiss in my duty as host,” Lord Williams replied. “I usually ensure each of my guests receives a gift. However, it is quite fortuitous that I waited, is it not? Else you might have found yourself with something quite disagreeable.”
I narrowed my eyes, recognizing his words as the ones I had spoken to him. “No doubt you have a talent for selecting quite the perfect thing.”
“You shall have to be the judge, though I believe my talents in the matter rather compare to those I have developed for lawn bowls.”
His demeanor appeared unaffected, but I thought I caught a hint of laughter in his eyes. I pretended indifference with a shrug. “Seeing as how you lost at lawn bowls, perhaps I would rather not receive a gift.”
Mr. Lundall leaned forward. “One man to another, Miss Brinton has a strong dislike of donkeys.”
Lord Williams glanced at me, eyes wide, and mouthed, “Donkeys?”
I shook my head, trying to indicate that it was not a subject that needed discussing.
“Thank you, Mr. Lundall,” Lord Williams said. “I shall take her aversion to donkeys under consideration.”
Lady Cox smirked. “Miss Brinton, do you sing?”
Startled at the change in subject, I replied, “A little.”
“That is all? What a shame. Elisa is such an accomplished vocalist. I do believe she was looking forward to a duet. Lord Williams, perhaps you would do us the honor of joining her?”
“I think a duet would be a delightful thing,” Lady Williams said. “Could we persuade you to join your daughter, Lady Cox?”
“Me? I admit I have not so fine a voice as Elisa’s. It is one of my greatest regrets that I was not trained as she has been.”
“I needn’t sing, Mama,” Miss Perrin said, obviously embarrassed. I felt sorry for her. My mother had never put me on display the way hers did.
I would sing with her, if only to spare her further discomfort.
Lord Williams stood before I could. “It has been some time since I have sung before company, but I would very much enjoy a duet with you, Miss Perrin.”
Miss Perrin flashed him a smile of obvious gratitude.
When Lord Williams’s voice filled the room, pleasure seeped through me. I tried to ignore my response but found I was as unsuccessful as a child trying to block a river by building a dam of sand.
Twenty-Nine
Sitting on a bench near the river the next morning, I frowned at the way the water continuously tugged at the branch of the tree. The branch would eventually give way, breaking off from the power of the river’s flow. There was something to admire in the tree’s effort to stand its ground, but losing the branch was inevitable. So why struggle so desperately to retain it?