Chapter 7
Anton wanted to pretend nothing had changed after their game of charades, but then he would be lying to himself.
Something had changed, and it drove him to his horse the next morning and into the countryside.
His dog chased after him for a time but finally gave up when he realized Anton wasn’t going to slow down.
All these ideas about Miss Muffet were figments of his imagination induced by a broken heart.
Miss Bliss, the woman he really loved, was coming tomorrow.
He waited for the heartbreak inside him to twist at his heart, but this time, he felt nothing.
The curious absence of the perpetual ache made him slow his horse to a trot.
Was he truly over Miss Bliss? Now that he thought on it more, the fervor of his emotions toward Miss Bliss had been lessening steadily since the house party.
It had been hard to accustom himself to the idea of his brother marrying the girl he had chosen for himself.
He had agreed to be supportive and to bury his feelings.
Was it possible to have buried them so deeply that they could no longer be found?
He had woken this morning with thoughts of Miss Muffet on his mind—and her alone.
Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, he sat back in his saddle.
He must be delusional. The mousy, quiet little thing had stolen into his heart without him even realizing it.
But how could he care for someone he did not even know?
She was entirely unpredictable. Last night her appearance improved—outside of her distasteful dress—and her charming smile made its debut.
At first, she would not even look at him and his family, but now she managed to get along with his family.
Indeed, she did so without taking offense by their ridiculousness or teasing.
Something was off. There was an inconsistency about her behavior he couldn’t quite trust. It bothered him greatly that he was developing feelings for her when he could not foresee her actions. He needed to discover more about her.
Having a plan of action soothed his anxiety, and he turned his horse and headed home.
Upon his return to the castle, he changed clothes and went in search of Miss Muffet.
He stopped in the library, sure he would find her there, but the room was vacant.
A little more exploring, and he discovered her with his mother and sister by the front door.
“You’re sure you won’t come?” Mary asked Miss Muffet, clasping her hands around Miss Muffet’s. “I promise you would be most welcome.”
“Your friends sound wonderful.” Miss Muffet played with the fabric of her skirt. “I am not quite ready for such an outing, but I will try to prepare myself for next time.”
“You take as long as you need,” his mother said. “Miss Bliss will be here tomorrow, and I am sure a familiar face will be more comfortable than a stranger’s.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Miss Muffet produced a small smile, barely visible from his position.
“Oh, Anton.” Mother caught him listening and waved him over. “We are going to make a few house calls. Do see to any need our Miss Muffet has.”
“Of course.” Anton strode up alongside Miss Muffet, and they both said goodbye. He turned to Miss Muffet. “This might be the perfect opportunity to redeem myself in chess. Do you have a spare moment for a sore loser?”
Miss Muffet looked up at him with her large doe eyes and gave him a timid smile. He wondered how hard it was for her to make such an expression of happiness. What held her back?
“I happen to be free right now.”
“Well then, shall we?” He put out his arm, and she took it. As they walked back toward the library, he congratulated himself for securing her all to himself.
“I wanted to tell you, I read the ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’ this morning.” Her soft voice reminded him of the gentle coos of a dove.
Anton led her through the library door to the chair on the other side of the rectangular table. The chess game was already there like a piece of permanent décor. “What did you think of the poem?”
She sat down and crossed her arms in a comfortable position. “I am sure there are a great deal of translations as to its meaning, and I wanted the ending to resonate with me more.” She straightened the chess pieces in front of her. “But I did like it. There are stanzas I cannot forget.”
Anton wanted her to expound—wanted to see how her mind ticked. “Please, tell me. What part stood out to you?”
When her gaze met his, her posture and expression were open and not guarded as in past days. “When the mariner is forced to wear the albatross he killed on his neck, I could relate.”
He studied her, wondering what sort of experiences could make her identify with the chilling poem. “How so?”
She began straightening the pieces once more.
“We all have times where burdens rain down on us from every side. Some of us even have nightmarish sea monsters, keeping us riveted in our grief. I feel for the mariner, cursed as he was, and forced to watch all those horrors around him. Yet, fear kept him stuck in his situation—from being able to even whisper a prayer.”
“Until the turning point.”
She nodded. “That part was rushed and almost hidden. I’m not sure anything so awful could end so easily.
That certainly hasn’t been my experience.
Yet somehow, he managed to feel some sort of affection for his enemy and could finally utter his prayer.
I’m not sure how he could feel affection for anything so awful.
I surely could not. Yet, the very act released the albatross, and it sank into the sea.
In one quick stanza, his whole reality changed, and suddenly there was hope. ”
Anton watched her eyes light up with passion as she spoke. He loved finding parables in literature. “After all the horrors he sees, I think a breath of hope was all he needed. Does it change your perception or does it align with your previous methodology of thought?”
“I . . . I am not sure. The similarity to my own life was . . . uncanny.”
“I would be interested in hearing more about the connection,” he said, hoping she would confide in him.
She shrugged, walls building behind her eyes. “It is hardly worth mentioning. Let’s start our game. I believe it is your turn to go first.”
Anton stared hard at her for a moment longer.
Though she was quite a puzzle to him, he enjoyed discussing literature with her.
It was nice to share what he loved with someone.
He looked down long enough to move a pawn.
“If you should find yourself comfortable enough to share more with me, I hope you will find the courage to do so. I enjoy hearing your thoughts. In fact, I can see why you came up with the word bluestocking last night. Your intelligence does you credit.”
Miss Muffet’s cheeks pinked, and her attention became riveted on the chessboard.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he hedged. “I assure you, it was not my intention. I simply find your conversation most refreshing.”
Miss Muffet lifted her gaze. “I am not used to expressing my thoughts. You are an adept listener, and I cannot help but prattle on.”
“I have yet to hear you prattle.” He moved another pawn when his turn came again. “Tell me, don’t you share confidences with your sister? I assume you are close in age.”
“You might say.” Miss Muffet hesitated before moving her rook. “We are twins.
“Twins? I never would have guessed with your differing appearance. It must be hard to be away from her.”
“On the contrary.” Miss Muffet’s soft voice was suddenly laced with derision. “I mean . . .” she took a moment to finish her sentence. “My sister is . . . well, she is Bianca. I cannot describe her. I am always in her shadow and content to be there.”
Anton tried to process what she had said and guess at what she wasn’t saying. He thought about her impression of the story he recommended. She said the mariner appreciated a form of life he had not before. Is that the part Miss Muffet thought resembled her own?
“Miss Muffet, do you hope your life will change when you return home?” Thunder and turf, he thought. That was only two weeks away.
“Change is inevitable, is it not? I can only hope the future has good things in store for me—hopefully, better than for the haunted mariner.” She spoke the words readily, but he sensed an undercurrent of uneasiness when she spoke.
He wondered if he shared a little of himself with her, if she would do the same. “Change can be hard. I am still adjusting to life without my father. I have learned happiness largely depends on our perspective and whether we have the courage to allow ourselves to be happy.”
Her gaze drifted to the window, fatigued by some hidden burden he could not see. “What if courage is not one’s strong suit?”
“Ah,” Anton said, capturing one of her pawns with his. “When playing cards, it is still possible to win with strategy, even without the trump suit. I think even a timid person as yourself has some tricks up her sleeve.”
Miss Muffet’s eyes shifted back to his, and the sparkle returned. “I didn’t think so before. Perhaps with the proper motivation, I will perform better.
His brow rose. “What would motivate you?”
Miss Muffet stared at him for a moment. Then her lips curled up into a mischievous grin. “I have an idea, but it is of a private nature, and I dare not tell you. Now I must work on my strategy.” She moved her knight into check position.
Blast. He hadn’t seen that coming. “I doubt you will struggle there.”
She gave a soft, musical laugh. “You would be surprised.”
Undoubtedly.
Miss Muffet had captured his attention, and he could no longer doubt it.
There was something to be said for a person to be aware of their own weaknesses and yet, eager to improve themselves.
He found her personality refreshing. So many people he met were eager to prove they were the best, when in reality, they were hiding their flaws behind pretense.
It wasn’t just her modesty, but she had no ulterior motive to use his family for their rank or position.
Their conversation—their time together—started because of circumstance but now had gradually turned into a genuine desire to know each other better.
Was this how it had happened for his siblings?
It made him think of Terrence and then of Miss Bliss.
The thought of his former tendre came and left without any care.
Thoughts of Miss Muffet, however, were flooding through his mind with a vengeance he had never experienced before.
He wanted to know her secrets and protect her from them.