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Hester steadied herself with a breath as she approached the stairways to the ground floor. She stopped with her hands on the banister and closed her eyes, once again telling herself that these next two weeks would be trying but not insurmountable.
When they were over, this would become a happy memory. The one couples told their grandchildren of and then sent each other loving smiles. This was when the male kingfisher brought the female fish, when the owl circled the nesting grounds. Nothing had been decided yet, which was why the everyday occurrence of walking down the stairs and entering the drawing room before dinner felt daunting.
She had prepared herself as best as possible. As was the mating ritual for the females of her species, she wore a blue dress that, although it had a demure neckline, also did a marvelous job of hiding her hips and bottom. Which made it one of her favorites. She had matched it with small but elegant sapphire earrings to emphasize her neck, which she had been told that men liked. Not her neck in particular of course, just women’s necks in general, and if they did there was no reason why she should not emphasize hers.
Even though she could not see the attraction to that part of the body. Men had necks of their own. When she was attracted to men, it was always to the parts of them that she did not possess herself. Like a flat broad chest – although one could argue that her own bosom was not abundant – the narrow hips, or the scratchy stubble on their cheeks. Even the part between their legs fascinated her, although she had never actually seen a man naked. She had found one of her brother Gregory’s old anatomy books in the library and studied it quite arduously. So much that she had tried to imagine what it would feel like if the male member was inserted between her...
“So have you chosen, yet?” someone drawled behind her on the landing.
Since Hester did not have to turn to know who spoke, she did not. Quite possibly her cheeks were beet red because of what she had just been thinking. Even her ears were burning. Good thing that they were mostly covered by her hair.
Instead of facing her older brother Archie, she started walking down the stairs and heard him follow her.
“Ah, you’re back,” Hester stated as drily as possible which was not a lot, since she was not one for pretending. She saw no reason to acknowledge his statement.
Archie caught up with her in a few swift jumps that were as lazy as they were elegant, executed with a grace that only a feline would have been able to match.
“Stating the obvious, are we?” he drawled once more.
“Remind me again why you are here, instead of at home?” Hester demanded and looked at the steps in front of her and not him. She was not certain that the color in her cheeks had diminished. “Or in London. I’m sure all the actresses and opera singers miss you.”
The estate that their father had given him was located only an hour's drive away. But Archie would only spend three or four days there and then head back to London. It was a constant source of disagreement between him and their father since their father believed that Archie was not taking his responsibility seriously.
“You would like to know, wouldn’t you?” Archie teased her.
Hester perched her lips since it felt like there was no way to win this one. She would like to know. Quite fervently in fact. She knew that Archie had had an affair with an actress this summer and that their father was livid that he had not been discreet about it, but she had not been able to obtain knowledge of how this affair differed from others. She would have to come up with a better rejoinder than the ones that came to mind when she was writing in her book of things she should have said.
Archie offered her his arm as they reached the last step of the stairway.
“Thank you,” Hester said as she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“Well, I can be polite if I want to.”
“If you need to point it out, it does not count,” Hester said.
As they approached the drawing room, Hester could not help but take another fortifying breath. She had hoped to do it soundlessly to not make Archie aware of it, but it seemed that he heard as he gently drew her to a halt.
“You have nothing to be nervous about. If any of the dimwits in there do not like you, it is because something is wrong with them, not you.”
Hester looked into his dark blue eyes and enjoyed this rare moment of him being honest and caring. She never doubted his love for her, but it could be well hidden at times.
“It is easy for you to say: You are never bothered by what others think of you. You never have anything at stake,” she muttered and looked at the light blue silk of his waistcoat instead of meeting his eyes.
When Archie did not respond immediately, she looked up and saw his jaw working for a moment before he gave her an easy grin and offered her his arm once more. Hester took it without comment, feeling that she had wounded his feelings by her comment but was not certain why. She might ask Sophia about it later.
“No, you’re right. Not caring and not having anything at stake is decidedly the easiest way to live,” Archie said beside her, making Hester certain that she had misinterpreted his facial expression. She had learned most of them by now, but sometimes she would still be wrong.
When they arrived in the drawing room, she felt everyone turn their attention towards her. So far, the guests had mainly been resting in their rooms and she had not had to deal with any of the men that she was contemplating marrying. Now both the attention of them and their relatives were upon her.
Hester pulled the corners of her mouth up as she turned her head from left to right, hoping that everyone would interpret this as her having smiled at the room. She squeezed Archie’s arm to thank him, before hurrying to Sophia’s side who was standing with her husband.
“How are you feeling?” Hester asked Sophia under her breath. She found it a bit disturbing that her friend had fallen asleep so easily this afternoon. But what did Hester know of pregnancy? Her older sisters Charlotte and Lucy were fifteen and twelve years older than her and she had been little more than a child herself when their children were born. She had no knowledge of female birds needing more rest, but it would be ideal for a study, once her quails had mated.
“I’m fine, I was just a bit tired,” Sophia whispered. “So, which one do you prefer?” Sophia smiled as she glanced around the room.
Hester followed her eyes. Sophia’s brother Percy Eavesgrave was talking to their brother, the Earl of Lambourn, Miss Gaywood, and her brother Algernon Gaywood. Mr. Drummond was standing with his two sisters Miss Drummond and Miss Amy a little way away. Archie had reached them, and they were already engaged in an animated conversation.
She supposed that Percy Eavesgrave was the most handsome of the three (if you did not count Archie, and being his sister, Hester did not count him in). Percy Eavesgrave had golden blonde hair that flowed around his face and was most assuredly dressed in the latest fashion. Algernon Gaywood’s hair was a dark brown that was a great contrast to his sister’s golden locks, and he was very tall and thin. Mr. Drummond was on the shorter side, maybe even a little shorter than Hester, and quite sturdy.
But looks were not the most important aspect of finding a spouse. She was not a peahen after all who was attracted to the male with the prettiest tail. She was a woman of science and needed a man who understood her and liked her for who she was. Although, she was also not naïve enough to believe that looks did not matter at all; Hester needed to find her future spouse attractive, but that could also come later by knowing his personality.
Actually, if she was to pick the most handsome man there, she would say that it was the Earl of Lambourn. She liked how his golden hair was cut shorter than his brother’s and his clothes were more subdued in darker colors even though he was the earl.
In that moment, he turned as if surveying the room and it seemed that his deep brown eyes that were so like Sophia’s incidentally caught hers. She could not determine the look in them however and he quickly looked away again as if he had seen something disgusting. Like a swan seeing a barn owl.
Hester felt her breath go shallow as she told herself that it did not matter what the earl thought of her. Despite his evident dislike of her, he had still allowed his brother to court her. Although it would be unpleasant to have the earl as a brother-in-law, it would be a great benefit to have Sophia as a sister.
As she saw the expectant look in Sophia’s eyes, she realized that she should have answered her long ago.
“I really could not say. I have not spoken much to Mr. Gaywood and Mr. Drummond,” Hester said.
“I am certain that you will have a better understanding of their personalities in only a couple of days. The walk was a splendid idea, was it not?”
Hester nodded and refrained from mentioning that the conversation had been more confusing than enlightening.
***
Hester was able to get through dinner without any problems. She was seated next to Mr. Drummond and although she noted that she was sadly a bit taller than he – for some annoying reason she suffered from the same need as all the other debutantes to feel small and protected by a man when height was a completely inconsequential matter – he was very pleasant company. It turned out that he did in fact have a pet parrot that he was very fond of.
“Does it talk?” Hester asked. She remembered visiting an elderly matron with her mother when she was younger. The matron had a parrot in a cage and Hester had spent the entire visit encouraging the bird to talk by giving it sugar. She had almost cried when the visit ended. Mr. Drummond having a pet parrot made him rise considerably in her esteem.
“Well, I’m still teaching him...” Mr. Drummond hesitated.
Hester noticed how his sister, Miss Drummond, giggled on the other side of the table. Besides Cecilia Gaywood, she was the prettiest of the young ladies, with her dark brown hair and slender figure. Hester fought not to interpret the giggle as being directed at her and sent the other woman a questioning look.
“My brother bought it from a sailor, madam. The parrot has the most vulgar language,” Miss Drummond giggled.
Archie, who was seated next to her, immediately started to quiz her about what words the parrot knew. Miss Drummond was obviously glad to have his attention and played coy in trying to avoid telling him.
“I’ve heard they are easily trained though,” Hester said as she turned to Mr. Drummond. “They are very intelligent.”
Mr. Drummond hesitantly agreed as if he was reluctant to disagree with her. Hester found it a bit odd since he was the one who knew the parrot. But no matter, they were able to talk about the parrot through most of the meal and then made pleasant conversation about the weather and the journey here for the rest of the meal until the ladies retired.
As the gentlemen joined them in the drawing room after half an hour or so, Miss Drummond and Sophia announced that it was time for a game. Most of the younger people readily agreed, even Archie which surprised Hester. A pleading look from Miss Gaywood made Lord Lambourn join as well.
Hester hated most kinds of party games unless it was exclusively in the company of her siblings. But then she also knew that it was only for fun. Every other time, it seemed that a party game was merely a pretext for flirting and Hester hated nothing more than flirting. Why else would she be unmarried at four and twenty? Flirting was like a game of its own, where no one could tell you the rules or how to win, but would readily laugh at you if you failed at it.
“You as well, Hester,” Sophia demanded and linked her arm through Hester’s. She had known that there was no escaping the game, yet Hester felt her mouth go dry at Sophia’s words. She could only nod in response as she reminded herself that Sophia was only being a good friend.
“Which game then?” Percy Eavesgrave drawled.
“Why, the aviary, of course. How could we choose another?” Miss Drummond asked coquettishly. It seemed that Archie was not the only one that had caught her interest.
Hester was not certain how to respond. She had played the aviary with her siblings often enough when the entire family came together for Christmas. Sometimes her parents would even participate, but she had only played it once outside of the family.
“Well, I will be the birdman,” Sophia announced hastily. Hester was quite certain that Miss Drummond’s pinched expression at that statement was one of trying to mask disappointment. “Everyone thinks of the bird that they want to be, and I will write it down.”
When she played with her family, she had been banned from being the kingfisher, and for a moment, Hester thought frantically of which bird to choose. She relaxed when she remembered that Archie was the only participant who knew which bird she preferred. He on the other hand usually chose grouse or pheasant, as he preferred something that he could eat, he always jested.
Sophia asked all of them which bird they were, they whispered the answer, and she wrote it down on the paper. With a flourish, Sophia stood in the middle of the floor.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, my aviary is complete, and if you will now please inform me: To which of my birds will you give your heart, to which of my birds will you entrust your secret, and from which of my birds will you pluck a feather.”
Hester was glad that she was not first. She was seated next to Miss Amy Drummond, and as Sophia went counterclockwise, it was her turn first. Miss Amy turned bright red when everyone’s eyes landed on her then murmured that she would tell a secret to the swan. Since no one had chosen that bird, she had to pay a forfeit. Hester was somewhat relieved when Sophia demanded that the others should come up with a tongue twister for her to repeat.
Usually in mixed company, the forfeit was used as an excuse to acquaint oneself with persons of the other gender, but it seemed that Sophia was not enforcing that tactic.
Archie and Percy Eavesgrave quickly constructed a completely impossible and, if Hester was correct, slightly improper sentence that Miss Amy had to repeat. She managed on the fifth attempt after much laughter. The rest of Miss Amy’s turn went on uneventfully as she guessed three birds that were all part of the game. Hester’s heart pounded so fiercely that she did not hear what Miss Amy said though.
“I will give my heart to...” Hester said when it was her turn. She looked at Archie who was sitting across from her and tried to will him to mouth which bird he had chosen. He only smirked at her however and crossed his arms. She looked helplessly at Sophia. A common bird, just name a common bird. Just any common bird, she thought frantically. “To the grouse.”
Sophia noted it without comment.
“And I will tell a secret to...” There were no swans. She looked around. Her eyes fell on Mr. Drummond. Of course, he would be one to entrust a secret to. “To the parrot.”
Again, Sophia noted the answer without comment. Good, there was a parrot as well. Now all she had to do was name the last bird and her turn would be over.
“And I will pluck a feather from...” She felt bolder now. The feather did not matter that much since it was she who would ask the other person to pay a forfeit to her. It had to be a common bird that someone else would choose. “The blackbird,” she said with a smile, certain that someone had picked it.
Sophia shook her head as she checked her list.
“I’m afraid that there is no blackbird in my aviary. You will have to pay a forfeit. I say that you must... kiss each corner of the room!”
“No, Sophia,” Hester stated in a low voice, looking intently at her friend, hoping she would take the words back. From the corner of her eye, she had already noticed how Percy Eavesgrave, Algernon Gaywood, and Francis Drummond had risen from their chairs and were now standing in a corner each.
“Miss Amy had to make a tongue twister...” Hester felt the burning in her cheeks and was quite sure that they were beet red by this moment. This was what she hated about party games.
“Yes, but I’m the birdman and I decide the forfeits,” Sophia stated. “We need someone for the last corner,” she scanned the remaining participants, “Lambourn, why don’t you...?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Lord Lambourn began, and looked at Miss Gaywood for help.
“It’s only a game, I know that,” Cecilia Gaywood interrupted him with her honeyed voice and a sweet smile.
Hester looked horrified at their exchange. No, he could not. Not after she had realized mere hours ago that she found him to be the most handsome of the men here.
“But still, Miss Gaywood...”
“I will do it so that we can move on with the game,” Addinggrove volunteered.
If Sophia’s eyes had been able to shoot daggers at her husband.
“No, I told Lambourn to do it, and as the birdman, I want to be obeyed,” she said.
“You're the birdman, not a despotic emperor,” Lord Lambourn shot back at her.
Hester realized that the last corner did not have to be occupied for her to kiss it. In fact, none of them did, but this was how the forfeit would ensure that men and women interacted. Hester quickly rose and headed for the nearest corner where Percy Eavesgrave stood. He was not that much taller than her, about half a head, and she only had to raise her mouth slightly to give him a peck on the cheek.
Despite the briefness, she was surprised at how intimate the gesture was. His hands came to her shoulders to steady her, and she could clearly feel the stubble on his cheek under her lips and smell his heavy cologne which was a blend of bergamot and vanilla mixed with the scent of tobacco. Without looking him in the eye she hurried to the next corner, where she found Algernon Gaywood.
He was so tall that even though she was tiptoeing, she could not reach his cheek and he had to bend over, almost causing her to lose her balance and he had to steady her with his hands on her upper arms. She heard several people laugh behind her and felt the blush creep from her face down her neck.
Again, without looking at him she hurried on, trying to ignore that anyone else was in the room. Sophia would hear for this, Hester thought angrily. Luckily, Francis Drummond was shorter than her and she could easily reach his soft, round cheek. Nevertheless, she still felt his hands on her shoulders.
She almost ran to the last corner and thought to simply kiss the air there when she instead found Lord Lambourn. She was so surprised that her step almost faltered. Sophia had clearly had her way and Lord Lambourn did not look pleased about it. Hester hurried to step up to him and kiss him on the cheek.
She had been in such a hurry that she stepped on his toes, which made her stumble into him for a moment. His body was firm and hard against hers and as her hands landed on his upper arms, she felt the strength underneath. She instantly wanted to know what else lay beyond his clothing, until she noticed his pained expression and hurried to give him a peck on the cheek.
Heavens, he must hate this, ran through her mind, as she quickly drew away. His scent of a mixture of pine needles, sandalwood, and wool filled her nostrils, making her want to inhale deeply. She hurried back to her chair while trying to ascertain why she had preferred his scent over all the other men in the room.
***
Flint hurried to his chair after releasing Lady Hester’s arms from his grip. He could still feel the warmness and softness of her body on his hands, all along his front in fact as she had leaned in to kiss him. He clenched and unclenched his gloved hands, trying to rid himself of the feeling.
He should not have caved to Miss Gaywood and Sophia, but it had become embarrassing how the two were harassing him and he had relented. Now he had to live with the knowledge that up close Lady Hester smelled of lemon and some kind of spring flower. Even though she had to have spent several hours inside, she smelled of fresh air as well.
Flint did not pay much attention to the rest of the game until he noticed how Miss Drummond, who was sitting next to him, kept getting the birds wrong. Even mentioning birds that had already been mentioned.
Sophia had her pay one forfeit after another, the barnyard where she had to imitate animal sounds without laughing, the boredom, where she had to yawn until someone else in the room yawned and the contrary spirit, where they would find tasks for her to do and then she would have to do the opposite.
When she mentioned the wrong bird for the fourth time, it seemed that Sophia had finally caught on to the fact that Miss Drummond wanted a kissing forfeit. Sophia told her to kiss her shadow, and Miss Drummond instantly moved, making her shadow fall across Lord Archibald, whom she promptly kissed on the cheek.
Flint could not help but chuckle. Clearly, Miss Drummond had her heart set on landing Lady Hester’s brother. Lord Archibald dried the kiss off his cheek in a not-so-subtle way. The intermezzo had made Flint relax and he gave Sophia an easy smile as it was his turn.
“I will give my heart to...” He looked at Cecilia who was sitting two chairs away from him. She mouthed something that seemed like “dead king”. He frowned at her, and she repeated it with exaggerated movements.
“No, no. I will have no cheating in my aviary,” Sophia scolded them good-naturedly and strode to stand in front of Cecilia, blocking Flint’s view of her. Should she even be standing in her condition? Flint thought absentmindedly, before the stern lines around her mouth reminded him, that he needed to name a bird.
“I will give my heart to...” Flint repeated, trying to figure out which bird Cecilia could have meant at the same time as trying to figure out what bird Lady Hester could have chosen, so he could avoid it. Dead King, Cecilia had mouthed. His mind was whirling with bird species that had nothing to do with kings or death.
“Come on, Flint, you have to answer,” Sophia urged him on.
“Kingfisher,” he blurted, there was at least something with a king.
Sophia noted it without comment. He looked at Cecilia who shook her head, then mouthed “Dead King” again. He could only shrug at her attempt.
He was quite certain that Francis Drummond had chosen the parrot; he had overheard him talking to Lady Hester about having acquired one the entire evening. He had kept telling himself through dinner that it was none of his concern whether she chose Francis Drummond simply because he owned a parrot. Yet he had felt his eyes stray to her continuously. If given the opportunity tomorrow, he should find a seat at the same side of the table as her in order to avoid looking at her.
Flint hurried on finishing his turn, saying he would tell his secret to the parrot and pluck a feather from the owl. Percy always picked the owl in these games and at least it would be fun to make him pay a forfeit.
The rest of the game passed quite uneventfully until the birds were revealed. Miss Amy was the sparrow; Lady Hester was the kingfisher... Flint barely listened to the rest as he realized that he would have to kneel in front of her and declare his love. He only listened with half an ear as it was revealed that Cecilia was the redwing.
Flint debated whether to simply leave the room and not go through with the end of the game. But it seemed childish to put any significance on the fact that he had chosen to give his heart to Lady Hester. He was an adult, not an adolescent, as was Lady Hester, and as such they knew that it was of no importance that he had to kneel in front of her. Yet as he did so, he noticed how her cheeks turned rosy and her eyes turned wide. He had always assumed that she thought he disliked her and then merely tolerated him since he was Sophia’s older brother, but her reaction made his stupid heart flutter with the hope that she might think more of him. As he returned to his seat, he even managed to convince himself that she had taken a deep breath as if smelling him as she had kissed him.
The party dispersed soon after the game was over. Flint asked Mr. Gaywood’s permission to walk Cecilia to her bedroom.
“Oh, please, say yes, Father, Miss Lawrence will be waiting for me in my room. Nothing untoward can happen on the way,” Cecilia pleaded with him.
Flint should be glad that she was eager to be alone with him, yet it annoyed him since his only motivation for being alone with her was to drive Lady Hester from his mind before he went to bed. It should be Cecilia that he fantasized about as he lay in bed, not Lady Hester.
Mr. Gaywood readily granted his permission and they waited at the bottom of the stairs as her parents ascended, not following until her parents had reached the landing above and turned into the hallway.
“I cannot believe you were not able to make out ‘redwing,’” Cecilia stated good-naturedly as they started ascending the steps. Her hand was resting in the crook of his elbow, which was a pleasant sensation, but there were no sparks, and even though he was enveloped in her perfume of vanilla and cinnamon, it did not make him want to smell the sensitive skin where her shoulder met her neck and place a kiss there.
“I thought you mouthed ‘dead king’,” Flint answered truthfully as he looked away again.
“But why would you say “kingfisher” then?” Cecilia went on. They had reached the landing and turned left down the same hallway as her parents. They could see them at the end of the dimly lit hallway.
“I don’t know, I panicked, I suppose.”
“But don’t you know that Lady Hester is writing a treatise on kingfishers?” Cecilia kept questioning him.
That would have been helpful information, but Flint had not known. Perhaps if he had ever asked Sophia any specifics about Lady Hester instead of avoiding the topic altogether, he might have known.
As a way of answering, he merely shook his head and looked at the end of the hallway where Cecilia’s parents had just disappeared around the corner. Flint seized the opportunity to draw them to a halt.
“Cecilia, may I kiss you?” he asked.
She sent him a sweet smile, showing her perfect teeth, and nodded. She closed her eyes and raised her mouth. They had kissed a couple of times during the season, and it had been pleasant. Like everything with Cecilia was.
Flint placed his lips on hers and felt... niceness. Pleasantness, no arousal whatsoever. Everything was as it should be, as he had planned it to be, yet he could not help but feel slightly disappointed.