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Joyful, whistling Mr. Brooke strolled down the cobblestones to meet his guests. His favorite among them was the young Miss Moore, for her presence always made a pleasurable time. Arm in arm with her cousin Marguerite, her laughter fluttered through the air before her like a herald as she made her way up the lane. Smiling broadly, Mr. Brooke eagerly sent forward a hand to receive hers for a kiss. She laughed again. The little farm manor, so sweetly situated between field and meadow, was Ceci's favorite country villa and Mr. Brooke's soirees ever promised a delightful evening.
As ever, the manor was spectacular: lit with a thousand beeswax candles and glittering with chandelier prisms and the sparkles of ladies' gowns. The wood floors were waxed to mirror-perfection and the gold and white of decorative drapery spread a warmth through the rooms. A little string quartet played in the corner, and the lovely music carried easily through the hall. Ceci cast her eyes about for familiar faces. There was Sam Redford in the midst of some profound political discussion; he certainly didn't waste time, Ceci noted. And there, Mr. Redford's cousin William, forever the antagonist. Certainly they would be arguing the same worn out issues that continually plagued the country class. Ceci had learned long ago not to enter into conversation with this particular duo, for neither of them listened to differing opinions and were constantly repetitious.
Ceci jumped; suddenly by her side appeared James Carter; wickedly, he bent close to her ear so that her dark curls brushed the tip of his nose, and whispered a request for a dance. The sudden invasion unnerved her, but she hid her discomfort with a smile and a nod. To note here, Ceci's smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, but did not quite reach her eyes; Marguerite alone noticed it. Marguerite also noted her cousin's over-eager steps while she danced and the way she avoided catching James' eyes, averting her glance as she skipped her way through the crowd.
When the music died away again to the sound of appreciative applause, Mr. Brooke made a show of opening the great windowed oak doors and ushering his guests out onto the veranda and moonlit lawn. Moonlit, for this was a night when the grand harvest moon sat just above the horizon, which glowed a rich orange. Discomfort died away from Ceci's pale face and she sighed happily. The evening air cooled her nerves and she smiled at her cousin. Around them, elegant women with feathers and fans milled arm-in-arm with dark-suited gentlemen. Whispers in the air became laughter and conversation again, and the little quartet re-situated itself on the lawn, lit by the candlelight through the oak doors. Milling herself, Ceci found Marie Tout and her brother Christopher engaged in argument about whether the city or the country was better in the summer or the winter months. Ceci always enjoyed Marie's company; though she bore an altogether plain appearance, she had a perfectly amiable personality and always made her laugh. And her brother Christopher, a tall, handsome, dark-haired fellow was—she was quite sure—in love with her Marguerite. No doubt Marguerite returned the sentiment, though both were so bothersomely shy and indecisive that nothing had yet been done about it. And so Marie and Cecil often made it their end to attempt to leave the two alone together or goad them into conversation on particular subjects. Tonight, with pale, silent Marguerite at her elbow, Ceci began to talk of a friend who had set her wedding date for the late summer months, but had decided after much consideration to hold the ceremony in the country.
Marie quickly piped up with, “Oh yes. I am sure she was right; weddings, you know, are so much pleasanter in the fresh open air of the country, in both summer and wintertime. After all, who would want a ceremony stuffed up in a crowded church outside a busy street? Not terribly romantic, indeed. What do you think, Marguerite? If it had been your wedding, summer in the country?”
Marguerite bit her lip. “I think I would agree that in the summer, a wedding in the country would be much more agreeable. But I do enjoy the city. It's um—very busy and exciting. There's always so many things to do.” Her face peered up at Christopher's for just an instant. He looked uncomfortable.
Marie grinned at Ceci. “You know, we shall never ask your opinion, Chris. Men are never allowed their opinion concerning such things, since tradition holds that the poor bride must manage all the wedding plans!”
Ceci giggled. “It's too true,” she said. “I'll make note of it when your time comes, Marguerite. You'll have my help, at least.”
Marguerite blushed.
“Oh, how exciting it would be to have a wedding!” Marie exclaimed. “We haven't had anyone married in months and months. Not since Clement Hall and Diana Newberry were married last year; and they moved away!”
“It would be nice, wouldn't it, to have a wedding.” Ceci laughed again at poor Christopher and Marguerite's unnerved expressions, both simultaneously trying to catch and avert each other's glances.
Marie laughed (with wicked undertones) along with Ceci. “A wedding and then a christening!”
Ceci was a little surprised at Marie's audacity; but after all, he was her brother.
Ceci suddenly became aware of a hush spreading through the crowd of guests. A few awkward laughs hung in the silenced air; Ceci looked about to see the reason.
There was a fellow standing in the oakwood doorway, speaking animatedly with Mr. Brooke, who beamed and frowned in succession. The hush tapered away as a feminine rush of whispers broke out.
“Who in heaven's name...?” Ceci said, staring fixedly at the young man. She'd certainly never seen him before but felt oddly that she'd encountered his personage once earlier.
Marguerite and Marie both knew at once. “Oh, Ceci,” Marie began, a little exasperated. “Did you not hear Mr. Brooke speaking of the gentleman? The man couldn't shut up about him.”
Ceci gave her a blank look. “His name is Corran William Lennox. He lives on that enormous estate on the other side of town. His father is Sir Edward Lennox, of a very old and wealthy family.” This information was whispered to Ceci by the ever-present Marguerite. She didn't notice, but at her side, Christopher gave her a surprised look. Marguerite continued, “His father's estate is worth thousands; Mr. Corran Lennox is the most eligible bachelor in the north country and he hasn't even reached five and twenty yet.” Christopher's look became more worried then surprised.
Ceci touched Marguerite's arm appreciatively and leaned around to attempt to get a better look at the man. I hope he's homely, she thought. It'd be easier to detest him and all his wealth and airs if he's unbearably ugly.
In this, she was unfortunately disappointed.