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He bowed his head to me. “My lady.”
“You are a doctor?”
“Yes,” he replied, already at the door. I tried to follow but was stopped. “If it is to your liking, you may have male staff present, but I do not see fit for you to be in here.”
“It is my home and brother.”
“You are keeping me, my lady.” He closed the door in my face.
11
Aphrodite
The term was déjà vu, taken from the French, meaning already seen. I had already seen these events before. Nearly four years ago, to be exact. For some reason, I truly believed he would call upon me at the soonest opportunity after he received my letter. But three days later there was still no reply.
I was foolish.
And now, I was terribly afraid of what would become of me once I had rejected Tristian’s offer. As we entered the garden party, I found myself unable to smile or even to take in the queen’s wondrous decorations.
“Are you truly so aggrieved at the prospect?”
I lifted my head to see my father had now stepped from my mother’s side to my own while she sought to help Hathor.
“Tristian is a very good man. You shall live a good life. And I doubt he shall worry you much. Must you reject him?”
“Yes, Papa,” I whispered, and I took his arm to hold on tightly. “I do not feel for him in any manner.”
He sighed and patted my hand. “Sometimes I fear your mother and I set the wrong standard and focused far too heavily on feelings instead of practicality.”
“And what is practical?”
“Knowing when it is one’s time and realizing that time is brief. For a while, you may be the most handsome and sought after. But your competition rises with your age. Do you not see all the fine young ladies here?” he questioned and nodded to the women already dancing with gentlemen. “They are younger and, dare I say, slightly more…amiable.”
At that precise moment, a young lady pretended to trip to be caught by her partner. It was very obvious, but the gentleman looked altogether pleased with himself. I could not help but giggle.
“Yes, very amiable indeed,” I replied.
“Which is why, should you reject Tristian, I fear you will reach a height you cannot descend from.”
“Which is?”
“Unattainable.” He pointed up to the sky. “Beauty like the sun, you exist and illuminate the world but are a distant sphere, hard to look upon fully, thus noticed but ignored. Is that what you wish?”
“Do you wish me to enter a loveless marriage merely out of fear of being unattainable or left behind?”
“I do not.” He frowned and shook his head. “But I do not wish you to miss your chance—overlooking fertile ground where love may grow for a desolate country that has never supported a blossom. I merely enjoyed your mother’s company when I first met her.”
“Were you not besotted during your match?” I looked at him somewhat confused, for that was the story they had told us.
“No.” He grinned and looked down. “Do not tell your mother that, for she is convinced she had me wrapped around her finger like ribbon.”
I was convinced that was still the case. “So, what did you feel?”
“Comfort and ease.” He nodded assuredly. “Comfortable with the knowledge she would make a fine wife, as she came from a fine family. Ease in conversation with her, for as you know, I tend to ramble on.”
“Just a tad.”
He smiled. “Yes, and always of the most boring things such as books and history. And yet your mother listened, even though she did not have the same passions. And she did not just pretend but truly listened and never once faulted me if I bored her. In turn, I learned to ramble less, and to seek out subjects that she might enjoy. For marriage is accommodating of each other.”
