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“Peggy, who are these from?” Annie called after her as Peggy returned to the room with the vase. Together, they began to arrange the roses in the vase.
“That is the odd thing,” Peggy said, shaking her head in amusement. “Do you remember our brief meeting with Mr Adam Barton last night?”
“I do,” Annie said with a small smile. “I seem to remember you spoke to him more than I did, and you danced with him, too.”
“I did.” Peggy nodded. “These are from him.”
“Are they?” Annie said excitedly.
Is it possible Peggy will be courted?
“Do not look at me with such excitement, I pray of you,” Peggy said hurriedly. “The flowers have arrived just now with a note where he has explained they are an apology for stepping on my foot as we were dancing.”
“Surely such an apology could have been made with words and not flowers?” Annie asked dubiously, but Peggy simply shrugged off the words.
“Apparently not.” She pushed the vase away from her, before she seemed to decide it was not far enough and grabbed hold of the vase, taking it to a table on the distant side of the room. Annie watched her move the flowers with interest, crossing her arms over her body.
“Do you not like the flowers?”
“No, I do,” Peggy said softly. “It is just that my cousin informed me this morning that Mr Barton’s reputation is not always perhaps as good as people like to think it to be.”
“Ah….” Annie sighed in understanding. “Is he rather like his friend? Lord Yeatman?”
Peggy didn’t answer but pressed a finger to her lips as the maid returned with tea. The tea was served, and the two sat together on a Chesterfield settee in perfect silence. The moment the door was closed behind the maid and they could no longer be overheard, they began speaking again.
“Let us leave the matter of Mr Barton at that.”
“Whatever for?” Annie asked. “What has your cousin told you about him?”
“That he is indeed like Lord Yeatman. If he is sending flowers, then they are either merely a true apology for being a rather clumsy dancer, or they mean something else. Something that is disappointing.” Peggy hurried herself with pouring the tea. Annie could see what Peggy was trying not to say in the way that she brushed a loose lock of dark hair behind her ear. It was a habit she had when there was something she didn’t wish to speak of.
“Did you quite like him?” Annie asked in a whisper. Peggy looked to her with wide eyes.
“I am growing more and more convinced you can feel what is in another’s mind without having to ask too many questions.”
“Only your mind, after knowing each other for so long. I am sorry, Peggy.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Peggy shrugged off the idea and passed a teacup into Annie’s hand. “I thought him rather charming, but evidently, that is the way he is with all ladies. It does not matter. Come tomorrow, I will think of him no more.” She sat tall and sighed as if pushing him out of her mind. “There, he is gone. Let us speak of you instead.”
“Me? What about me?”
“Of the very thing I believe you came in wishing to speak of,” Peggy explained as she reached for the cake on the tray. “Here, have some honey cake. As it is your favourite, it will do us well to talk of unpleasant things.”
“Oh, good lord,” Annie murmured. “You heard the rumours, too, then?”
“How could I not?” Peggy turned back to look at her, shaking her head in disbelief. “Even after you and your mother had left the ball last night, people would not stop speaking of that odd moment between you and Lord Yeatman at the end of the dance. You should have heard their insinuations.”
“I am not sure I wish to.”
“They suggested you were his next lady and that perhaps you already knew each other rather well from how you stared at one another.”
“Peggy! I said I did not wish to hear it,” Annie said hurriedly, just as the cake was pushed into her other hand. Finding her hands full, she hastened to put the teacup down in order to dig into the cake. “It was nothing,” she spoke as quickly as she could. “We were merely talking and were distracted from leaving the floor.”
“Yes, that is what Mr Barton predicted when we saw the two of you struggling to leave. Though he suggested the distraction was a liking for one another.”
“Absurd,” Annie muttered, stabbing her cake so much with the fork that she made the silver scrape against the porcelain. “It meant nothing. I was merely dancing with him to be polite. I have no intention to see him again at these events, and if I do, then I shall be giving him a wide berth. How long do you think until people stop speaking of it?”
“Well….” Peggy clearly thought of her answer with some care, wrinkling her nose as she took a sip of tea. “Thetonare keen to talk of whatever is the greatest mischief at a single moment. Should an elopement happen tomorrow, then people will stop talking about you two, seeing as all you did was stare at each other for a little too long.”
