Two young ladies flanked both sides of a gentleman, who could only have been the infamous Mr. Hill.
He was much younger than I had expected. Considering the desperation he seemed to have to be married off by Mrs. Ollerton, I had expected a man with at least a bit of grey in his hair, or perhaps a slight hunch to his shoulders. Instead, the man sitting at the center of the room couldn’t have even yet been thirty. Between his broad, squared shoulders and firm jaw, he immediately struck me as handsome. He glanced up at my entrance, and even from across the room I could see that his eyes were blue. Sharp, inquisitive, and framed with dark brows and lashes. His golden hair was combed neatly, contrary to most styles I had seen among fashionable men in London. It gave him a striking appearance, one that breathed with all the confidence and assurance that I lacked.
My feet stopped, and I was suddenly tempted to hide behind Mrs. Ollerton.
Her full skirts would hide me quite nicely if I crouched.
The ladies in the room seemed every bit as entranced with Mr. Hill as I was. I shook myself, feeling a slight flush on my cheeks for staring at him for so long. His gaze only lingered on me for a brief moment before flitting back to the young lady beside him, with whom I seemed to have interrupted a conversation. He finished with a few short words, unintelligible from where I stood, before rising. He walked closer, and thankfully, Mrs. Ollerton spoke.
“Mr. Hill, may I present my final guest, Miss Sophia Sedgwick.”
He offered a bow, and I curtsied, wobbling a bit with the motion. It was somewhat of a relief that Mr. Hill seemed so refined and handsome. Sophia was right. It was highly unlikely for any man to take notice of me, and certainly not a man the likes of Mr. Hill.
I met his gaze. The color of his eyes was even more piercing from a closer proximity, a deep blue streaked with multiple tones of grey, like the blurred connection between the sky and an unsettled sea.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sedgwick.” Mr. Hill’s voice wrapped around me like a melody, giving a weightlessness to my feet that was both unfamiliar and terrifying. Even though he had only spoken a few words, the other four ladies watched from behind his tall frame, looking me over with hints of warning in their gazes. All four ladies had very different appearances: two blonde, one brunette, and one auburn haired. But I had already found one commonality among them. They all watched me in the same competitive manner, as if to say, Mr. Hill is mine.
I swallowed, turning my attention back to his much-too-handsome face. How easy would it be to blend into the background among such eager participants, and how entertaining would it be to watch them fight over him? A slight smile pulled on the edge of my mouth, and my nerves almost entirely vanished. I corrected my expression and regarded Mr. Hill in as timid a manner as possible. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hill.” I looked away from his face, doing all I could to be forgettable and meek. It was not difficult to feign shyness around him, and I was quite proud of my performance.
With another wobbling curtsy, I moved aside to allow Mrs. Ollerton room to address him. Amid my thoughts, I had not heard the drawing room door open, nor had I heard the maid sneaking past me with the tea tray. As I came out of my curtsy and stepped abruptly to the right, I collided with something solid.
A slight shriek met my ears as a young maid stumbled over my foot, catching hold of my sleeve to steady herself as the tea tray tipped forward, sending a bowl of jam and tray of tartlets to make a solid impact with Mr. Hill’s jacket. One tart made a sound splat against his firm jaw. Only once I had gathered my senses did I notice the tea pot that had shattered and spilled its contents all over his boots and Mrs. Ollerton’s Turkish rug.
“Oh, Miss Sedgwick!” Mrs. Ollerton’s voice came out, high-pitched and enraged as she took in the scene. My jaw hung loose, and I quickly scrambled to the ground, scooping up as many of the spilled tartlets as possible, the raspberry jam oozing between my fingers and causing further dripping onto the carpet. The maid I had caused to trip was already doing all she could to clean as well, and only when I noticed her look of alarm did I realize that a lady would never have been crawling across the ground to gather up tarts.
I straightened quickly and came to my feet. My face burned hot, no doubt redder than the jam that was smeared on the right side of Mr. Hill’s face.
The other four ladies in the room watched me as if I were a foreign species of animal that had meandered my way from the Indian jungle right into the drawing room of Winslow House. I had been crawling across the ground, after all.
I wiped my hands on my skirts before realizing it.
Elegant, Tillie. Very elegant indeed.
Chapter 4
The walls of the drawing room seemed to be closing in on all sides, and I wished they would. It might have been a much-needed distraction from the disaster I had just created.
Mr. Hill calmly withdrew his handkerchief. I thought he would raise it to his own face to wipe off the jam, but instead he extended it to me, half his mouth lifting in a smile. “I must say, raspberry jam is my favorite, but I prefer eating it over applying it to my complexion. Is that what you ladies do to achieve such a flush to your cheeks?” He winked, much to my dismay, before setting the clean white linen in my hand.
My dripping, sticky hand.
A new surge of heat engulfed my cheeks as I cleaned between my fingers as best I could. Had he just smiled? After I had ruined his clean clothing and embarrassed him in front of the entire party? I must have been imagining it. I hurried as quickly as I could to clean my hands before looking up at Mrs. Ollerton, who still wore an obvious expression of dismay.
“Miss Sedgwick mustn’t be allowed near the tea tray on future occasions,” she said between deep breaths. I noticed a tartlet near Mr. Hill’s shoe, but before I could point it out, he stepped forward, crushing it further into the carpet. I cringed.
His stare bore down on my face. Could I have possibly made a greater mistake? I had made myself anything but invisible. Thankfully, though, I had shown myself in an inelegant, disagreeable light; if this was Mr. Hill’s first impression of me, it was sure to keep him far away. Sophia would be mortified if she knew how I had represented her, crawling along the ground gathering up tartlets. I grimaced before reluctantly meeting Mr. Hill’s gaze.
Before he could speak, a tall young woman spoke up from behind him. “So we see that the charms of Mr. Hill affect even the most stoic of women. I cannot imagine a single lady would not be inclined to humiliate herself to gain his attention.”
The other three ladies laughed, a myriad of intonations from rasped and quiet to shrill and loud.
I handed the dirtied handkerchief to the maid, who was still busy cleaning off the floor. “I—I did not intentionally…no.” I laughed, a weak means of defending myself. “You must see I was not attempting to win his attention.” I did not want his attention, nor would I ever have it again.
The ladies exchanged smiles amongst themselves before the tall one cast me a look of pity.
I looked down at the floor, trying to imagine myself any place but here. There would be no victory to tell Jessie of. She and Sophia had both been wrong to put their faith in me. When I glanced up, Mr. Hill’s piercing blue eyes were still fixed on me. His voice, deep and soft, met my ears. “You have won my attention, nonetheless.” He winked again, and this time I was sure I had not imagined it.