Chapter Four #4
Drake hadn’t been asking, simply confirming. ‘You were not interested in him?’ he asked as they moved away from the staircase, towards the hallway that led to the back of the house where the ballroom was located.
‘Mr Blair is a butcher,’ she said, gently hooking a hand around his elbow again.
‘Or rather, his family owns several butcher shops across the country. And though I fully understand that is a needed and respected profession, that is all he talks about. Different cuts of meat, different types of meat, and…’ A tiny little shake took over her entire body as she glanced up at him. ‘I found it quite disturbing.’
‘I can understand that,’ Drake said honestly. He also questioned whether Mr Blair could possibly have enough confidence to wield a block knife.
‘Thank you, because my family didn’t,’ she replied. ‘They said butchering was a fact of life.’
‘That doesn’t mean you have to like it.’
Meridith’s smile reached her eyes, made them sparkle. ‘Exactly. But no one else saw it that way.’
‘You did, and that’s something to be happy about.’ He patted her fingers that were hooked around his elbow. ‘Knowing your own mind.’
She frowned, then nodded. ‘You’re right, it is.’
He took delight in her understanding and had to confess that he liked the way her hand held on to his arm. In fact, he found that he liked walking beside her.
He didn’t have time to contemplate that further because another man stepped before them, causing them to stop walking.
This one was tall and slender, older than Mr Blair, and appeared to have a permanent frown due to the way his bushy, dark brows met above the bridge of his nose. ‘Good evening, Lady Meridith,’ he said.
‘Hello, Mr Harding,’ she replied, in a tone that hinted she wasn’t happy to see this man, either. ‘Allow me to introduce you to Captain Drake Taylor.’
Drake gave the man a nod. ‘Mr Harding.’
‘Captain Taylor,’ the man replied. ‘Are you a friend of Lady Meridith’s?’
‘Indeed, I am,’ he replied, giving Meridith a quick glance—and a grin.
‘As am I,’ the man said, taking a step closer. ‘Have been for some time.’
Drake wasn’t sure if the man was attempting to be intimidating or was simply arrogant. Either way, his bird brain kicked in.
That was a saying of his uncle’s. Drake had been a young boy the first time Uncle Donald had explained that a person felt a distinct impulse either to fight or take flight.
And when that happened, his uncle had said, it was best to be a bird.
Just smile and fly away. Drake had taken that approach to heart and perfected it.
There had been a rare handful of moments when he’d resorted to fighting—even in moments when he was defending something dear to him.
He always gave the other person the option of walking away first.
He’d do the same now, even as every instinct demanded he defend Meridith. Pulling up a smile, he asked, ‘Who needs enemies?’
He let his stare communicate that his statement wasn’t a compliment, all the while holding a smile.
‘I dare say, Lady Meridith and I are not enemies,’ the man said. ‘I am directly related to the queen.’
If Drake hadn’t already been too disgusted by the man for amusement, he might have laughed. ‘Good for you. Tell the queen hello from me, and tell her that Meridith and I are not enemies, either.’
‘Please excuse us, Mr Harding,’ Meridith said, while wrapping her fingers tighter around Drake’s arm. ‘Captain Taylor and I are looking for someone.’
‘I request a moment of your time, Lady Meridith,’ Harding practically commanded.
This was one arrogant man, who was about to lose his opportunity to walk away. ‘The lady stated she’s busy,’ Drake said, placing a hand firmly on the man’s chest.
The next few moments were a stalemate of sorts.
Drake had no intention of backing down, and it took Harding a bit of time to realise that, and to determine that pressing the issue might not work out in his favour.
Once he’d finally reached the correct conclusion, Harding took a step back and without another word, walked away.
‘Another one of your suitors?’ Drake asked.
‘Yes.’
‘It appears he doesn’t understand a polite rejection.’
‘He’s too arrogant to understand anything.’
Drake nodded and glanced down the hallway, where there were three more men staring their way. ‘How many have there been?’
Meridith sighed. ‘Too many. The one on the right, wearing the blue jacket, is Mr Adams, who is dreadfully dull. Across the hall from him, wearing the red waistcoat, is Mr Jamison. His mother still insists that his meat be cut into bite-size pieces before being served to him, to prevent him from choking. Behind him, in the black tailcoat, is Mr Neisen. He enjoys spirits far too much.’
Several questions raced across Drake’s mind, and he chose what he felt to be the most pertinent one. ‘Why is your family so set on seeing you married?’
‘Because they don’t know what else to do with me,’ she replied. ‘They all have their families, but I’m the little sister, who they are obligated to take care of, provide for, until I get married.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing else they can do. They already sent me off to school.’