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London, June 1826
“Did you know that ducks sleep with one eye open, sir?” Hester told the young man, Mr. Henderson, that had come over to converse with her best friend Sophia along with two of his friends in the crowded ballroom.
Mr. Henderson was politely talking to her since Sophia was having an animated conversation with his two other friends. One that Mr. Henderson seemed to struggle to find a place in, which was why Hester thought that they might converse. Nothing was standing in the way of them having a perfectly pleasant conversation. In fact, there was nothing to say that said conversation could not turn into more and then at times they would – but she was getting ahead of herself.
“I had no idea, madam,” Mr. Henderson said amiably. He was tall, his light brown hair thinning a bit, even though he could not be over thirty, but he was all-round amenable to look at. Not that it was the most important aspect of finding a partner, but Hester would like her future husband to be at least relatively good-looking.
“It’s true, they sleep in a group, and then the ducks on the outer rim sleep with one eye open to look out for predators. I have seen it myself!” Hester found herself babbling.
She knew that she was not the best at judging other people’s expressions, but even she could tell that Mr. Henderson was starting to become bored. He was looking more and more at Sophia and his two friends standing next to her.
Hester was frantically searching for a way to let him know that she did not mind that he joined the conversation with the others if he found her boring. Other than simply telling him so, which she knew to be rude.
“... it could be interesting to do a field study on them to figure out why. How did you find the traffic?” she blurted since both her mother and Sophia had emphasized that traffic was always a safe topic. One that everyone could relate to.
She should work on how she could go from talking about one subject to another, Hester absentmindedly thought. At home, she had a book where she wrote the things down that she should have said instead of the things that she had actually said. It often helped her when she found herself in a similar situation another time. She would practice changing the subject more smoothly when she returned home this evening.
“It was quite fine,” he told her. Was there a hint of a smile or was he simply grimacing? Hester studied his mouth to be certain which it had been, but then his entire face turned, and she became aware that she might have been staring at him for too long.
“Lady Sophia had some quite interesting observations regarding traffic,” Hester told him, as she started fearing she might be making him uncomfortable. “Did you not? Something about a carriage that was blocking the street?” Hester interrupted their conversation.
Sophia did not falter at this but snaked her arm around Hester to draw her closer. Mr. Henderson became part of the conversation. It seemed that he had arrived at Duke Street only moments after the carriage blocking it had been cleared and Hester looked contently at her friend and the three gentlemen conversing. At least she had been able to help Mr. Henderson gain access to the conversation. So, he might not be for her, but perhaps Sophia would like him. Despite this being their first season, they were both looking for amenable men, if they should come across any. So far, Sophia had seemed to meet plenty, while Hester often found herself conversing in a corner with Sir Joesph and Mrs. Hollingsworth, both keen ornithologists as herself. She told herself that she had time. She was only eighteen and certainly did not need to marry yet. She would just like it to happen at some point.
After Sophia had danced and Hester had had a delightful conversation with Sir Joseph about crows and particularly their ability to recognize human faces, they met again in the adjoining salon where supper was served. Sophia’s cheeks were flushed, and with her dark brown eyes, golden wavy hair, and cream dress, she looked positively stunning.
“You only need a rose in your hair,” Hester told her.
“Only?” Sophia asked with a smile.
“I was thinking that you look beautiful, but that a rose would complete your look. A pink one perhaps, not a dark red.” Hester made a mental note to make the statement sound better in her book about what she should have said.
Sophia smiled and covered Hester’s hand with her own, squeezing it tightly as Hester had told her she preferred. There was something about gentle touches and loose embraces that just gave her the chills rather than feeling pleasant as she knew was the intention.
“Thank you,” Sophia said softly.
They ate in silence for a moment before Sophia looked up and waved at someone behind Hester.
“Flint!” she exclaimed as a young man joined them a moment later. He had the same golden blonde hair as her, although his was cut so short that there were no waves to it. He was athletically built and wore dark, modest clothes, although of a fine quality. By his looks alone, Hester deduced that it had to be one of Sophia’s brothers. Sophia rose to give her brother a peck on the cheek. “You said you were not coming.”
“No, but Grandmother seemed so sad that I would decline since Lady Buxton is one of her oldest friends, that I thought that I would at least show my face. Percy is here somewhere as well.”
He looked around as if his twin would materialize as he spoke of him.
“This is my friend, Lady Hester Montagu, the daughter of the Duke of Camborne,” Sophia told him and directed his attention to her.
***
From behind, all Flint had been able to see of Lady Hester had been her hair which was a dull mix between blonde and brown, her upright posture, and had noted absentmindedly that she had rather wide hips. If Flint had not known his sister better, he would have thought she had chosen her new best friend to amplify her own beauty. As he was now introduced to the young lady he looked into her startlingly violet eyes, which frankly seemed a bit unnerving.
They greeted each other courteously. As Sophia and Lady Hester sat down again, Sophia invited him to join them. Flint hesitated for a moment, but since he was not certain whether any of his friends were there and had no intention of chasing Percy down, he decided that he might as well eat and converse with the two young women for a moment. Sophia had mentioned Lady Hester several times in her letters for him at the university in Cambridge and he sensed that she was eager for the two of them to become acquainted.
“Sophia told me that it is tradition that the firstborn in your family has the mother’s maiden name as a Christian name, but she never mentioned where the name originates from?” Lady Hester fired at him as soon as he had agreed to sit with them. Flint wished he had not just sat down, as he always felt the urge to leave the room whenever his mother was mentioned.
“Her family originated from Flint in Wales,” Flint told her and shot Sophia a look, hoping to have her change the topic of conversation. His sister was however looking at Lady Hester and not him.
“It has never been a custom in my family. My brother would then be named Fawkes, which is my mother’s maiden name. As it is, my oldest brother Henry is named after my father’s grandfather and not ours. It is probably for the best, otherwise, I suspect we would have a perpetual cycle of dukes named Henry and Charles. Although first names do not matter much, when one has a title, do they?” Lady Hester babbled.
“Hester,” Sophia interrupted her with a grin and laid a hand on her arm.
Lady Hester flushed a bit as she looked at Sophia.
“Am I doing it again?” she asked Sophia, and the intimacy between the two made Flint’s heart squeeze. He knew that Sophia had other friends, but it was clear that her friendship with Lady Hester had evolved quicker and was deeper with her.
Sophia nodded and her golden blonde hair bobbed around her head.
“I’m sorry, Lord Flint, I got carried away. The weather is fine today, is it not?” Lady Hester changed the subject abruptly. She glanced at Sophia as if for approval and his sister hid a smile behind her gloved hand.
“Yes, the weather is fine,” Flint placated her, becoming more curious about the dynamic between his sister and Lady Hester. He would have assumed that the daughter of a duke had had the best governesses and was drilled in conversation, but it seemed that Lady Hester was not.
“And how was the traffic? Did you encounter the carriage that blocked the street the same way that Sophia and your grandmother did? We did not; our London residence is on Upper Grosvenor Street, you see, so we had no reason to go via Duke Street like your sister, but simply crossed Grosvenor Square to Brook Street and arrived here without any delay.” Lady Hester babbled in a way that was quite endearing despite the nonsense she spurted. Flint understood why Sophia liked her.
“No, I did not come across the carriage,” Flint began. Lady Hester studied him expectantly as if urging him to continue. Her large violet eyes went wider. Flint looked at his hands to not stare at them. “I have only just arrived...”
“Yes, I gathered,” Lady Hester interrupted him.
The silence stretched for what felt like several minutes. Flint wondered whether he should simply excuse himself and figure out whether some of his friends were actually in attendance, but at that moment his brother Percy walked towards them. He was introduced to Lady Hester as well and asked to join them at the table.
“Did you know that birds are not identical even though they might appear to be?” Lady Hester told them, as Percy sat down in the chair next to Flint, acknowledging him with a nod. Flint looked at his brother who had an amused smile around his mouth. Flint felt the same tug at his lips; this was certainly not the normal reaction to seeing him and his twin brother together.
“No,” Percy told Lady Hester in a way that signaled for her to continue.
“Well, truth be told, I suppose birds can have twins: You do occasionally see chicken eggs with two yolks, don’t you? But I have not seen two birds hatch from the same egg. I suppose that only one young gets to evolve in the egg. And since they are in separate eggs, they are thus... slightly different,” Lady Hester trailed off, evidently realizing that she was monopolizing the conversation.
“Fascinating,” Percy stated beside him.
The one word seemed to reassure Lady Hester that no one minded her monologue. She gave Percy a small smile and for some reason, Flint wished that he had been the one to have uttered that single word. He shifted in his seat as he looked from his brother to Lady Hester. Percy’s eyes, the same brown as his own, were fixed on her in a way that Flint knew was only flirtatious for his amusement and not something that he meant anything by.
“I find it quite curious how your parents could tell you apart as infants. Surely, when there is an earldom involved, it matters greatly,” no one had time to answer before she went on, “I suppose they would have used different colors on your clothing or perhaps even bracelets or some such token to be certain that they did not confuse you. At least until you were old enough to answer to your names.”
Flint felt his face turn to stone when the bracelets that their mother had knotted for them the day they were born were mentioned. He still kept his in a drawer in his dressing room. He had not looked at it in a long time but once in a while he would take it out and run a finger over the faded green yarn of the tiny bracelet and remember that she had touched it as well once.
He looked at his hands for a moment, trying to rein in his emotions. When he looked up, he caught Lady Hester looking at him with a bewildered expression on her face.
“Well, that, and it helps that I have a birthmark on my chest,” Percy said brazenly, which made Lady Hester flush slightly.
“Heavens,” Sophia groaned and rolled her eyes.
“She made us bracelets, our mother. Percy’s was blue and mine was green,” Flint offered curtly, hoping to make this the end of the discussion and save Lady Hester from Percy’s teasing. She sent him a small grateful smile as if she was relieved to have this detail confirmed. His stomach squeezed in an odd way that he attributed to being hungry and reached for the tray of biscuits that had hardly been touched and wolfed down two without thinking.
“Are you going to the Thistleworth’s ball tomorrow evening?” Sophia asked and looked between them.
“I’m not sure I will ever be desperate enough to attend the Thistleworth’s ball,” Percy groaned, and Flint shared the sentiment. The ball was one of the last before the ton started leaving London and was seen as the last hunting ground for desperate debutantes and their mothers. At only twenty, neither he nor Percy was in a rush to marry.
“I... have something else tomorrow,” Flint told them vaguely. He did not, but he could quickly make other plans than attending the Thistleworth’s ball.
“From what I’ve heard of the Thistleworth’s ball, it sounds just like ducks mating,” Lady Hester chimed in.
Percy choked on the biscuit he was eating, Sophia hid a giggle behind her hand, and Flint made a strangled sound, trying to stifle a chuckle. But attempting to contain his laughter only seemed to tighten something in his chest. He rubbed the place absentmindedly, thinking that he might have to see a doctor if it continued.
“Of course, in reverse, since what you say sounds like the females are chasing the males. Sometimes so many will try to mate with one female that they drown them. The ducks, of course,” Lady Hester hurriedly explained, as if their open-mouthed astonishment was due to the accuracy of her statement. She looked adorably bewildered, her cheeks pink and her violet eyes wide.
Percy started making a gagging sound that had Flint take his eyes off Lady Hester and pound his brother in the back. Percy’s mop of golden blonde hair bobbed as he kept coughing. Sophia’s laughter stifled as she handed him a handkerchief that he spat into.
“Thank you,” Percy rasped and immediately started laughing. “You are something else, Lady Hester.” He grinned.
Lady Hester gave him a trembling unsure smile, but as Sophia started laughing as well and Flint could not help but chuckle, her smile broadened and she huffed with mirth. For a moment she transformed; Flint had not realized how stiffly in a distinctly uncomfortable way she had been sitting until she relaxed with laughter. This transformation intrigued Flint and he instantly knew that he should not indulge in his impulse to figure out what else made her relax in this manner.
Lady Hester’s violet eyes met his for a moment with an open, almost questioning expression, and Flint felt his laughter die in his throat. He hastily rose and excused himself. He felt both relieved and as if he left something behind when he exited the room to head for the card room. Luckily, he was only twenty and would not marry for several years. By then Lady Hester would be married to someone else and he did not have to ponder the danger she might pose to his heart.