Thursday, August 11, 2011

Love in the Afternoon

When Christopher finished, there was a moment of silence.
Leo looked at Cam expectantly. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"Now is the time when you dredge up one of your blasted Romany sayings. Something about roosters laying eggs, or pigs dancing in the orchard. It's what you always do. Let's have it."
Cam gave him a sardonic glance. "I can't think of one right now.
"By God, I've had to listen to hundreds of them. And Phelan doesn't have to hear even one?"

"I'm fairly certain, Captain, that the more you discover about me, the more you will dislike me. Therefore, let's cut to the chase and acknowledge that we don't like each other. Then we won't have to bother with the in-between part."
She was so bloody frank and practical about the whole thing that Christopher couldn't help but be amused. "I'm afraid I can't oblige you."
"Why not?"
"Because when you said that just now, I found myself starting to like you."
"You'll recover," she said.

Bending his head over hers, Leo murmured, "When  I give you away at the altar, Bea, I want you to remember something. I'm not really giving you away. I'm merely allowing him the chance to love you as mush as the rest of us do."

"I beg your pardon?" Catherine interrupted. "Are you implying that women have poor judgment?"
"In these matters, yes." Leo gestured to Christopher. "Just look at the fellow, standing there like a Bloody Greek god. Do you think she chose him because of his intellect?"
"I graduated from Cambridge," Christopher said acidly. "Should I have brought my diploma?"
"In this family," Cam interrupted, "there is no requirement of a university degree to prove one's intelligence. Lord Ramsay is a perfect example of how one has nothing to do with the other?"

"Captain Phelan," Cam asked, choosing his words with care. "Have you come to ask for our consent to marry Beatrix?"
Christopher shook his head.
"If I decide to marry Beatrix, I'll do it with or without your consent."
Leo looked at Cam. "Good God," he said in disgust. "This one's worse than Harry."

"Of all the Hathaway sisters," Cam said equably, "Beatrix is the one most suited to choose her own husband. I trust her judgment."
Beatrix gave him a brilliant smile. "Thank you, Cam."
"What are you thinking?" Leo demanded of his brother-in-law. "You can't trust Beatrix's judgment."
"Why not?"
"She's too young," Leo said.
"I'm twenty-three," Beatrix protested. "In dog years I'd be dead."

"Beatrix puts a distance between herself and the rest of the world. She's very engaging, but also quite private in nature. I see the same qualities in Captain Phelan."
"Yes," Amelia said. "You're absolutely right, Catherine. Put that way, the match does seem more appropriate"
"I still have reservations," Leo said.
"You always do," Amelia replied. "If you'll recall, you objected to Cam in the beginning, but now you've accepted him."
"That's because the more brothers-in-law I acquire," Leo said, "the better Cam looks by comparison."

"Before you marry, you have to get shot by an arrow and fall in love," the boy explained. He paused thoughtfully."But I don't think the rest of it hurts as much as the beginning."

"You could run to the farthest corners of the earth. There's no place you could go where I wouldn't love you. Nothing you could do to stop me."

"Yes, but you need to learn your maths."
"I don't need to, really. I already know how to count to a hundred. And I'm sure I'll never need ore than a hundred of anything."

"What kind of wedding would you like?" he asked, and stole another kiss before she could reply.
"The kind that turns you into my husband." She touched the firm line of his mouth with her fingers. "What kind would you like?"
He smiled ruefully. "A fast one.

"The trick was forgetting about what she had lost ...and learning to go on with what she had left."

"No marriage stays in the same pattern forever. It is both the best feature of marriage and the worst, that it inevitably changes."

"I didn't mean to send love letters, but that is what they became. On their way to you, my words turned into heartbeats on the page."

After a universal silence, Leo was the first to speak. "Did anyone else notice”
"Yes," Catherine said.
"What do you make of it?"
"I haven't decided yet." Leo frowned and took a sip of port. "He's not someone I would pair Bea with."
"Whom would you pair her with?"
"Hanged if I know," Leo said. "Someone with similar interests. The local veterinarian, perhaps?"
"He's eighty-three years old and deaf," Catherine said.
"They would never argue," Leo pointed out.

"Very well," Beatrix said reluctantly. "But I warn you, they may be resistant to the match."
"I'm resistant to the match," Christopher informed her. "At least we'll have that in common."

"Beatrix," Amelia said over her shoulder as they proceeded through the hallway. "Perhaps you should reconsider your attire. Poor Captain Phelan may find it somewhat shocking."
"But he's already seen me like this," came Beatrix's voice from behind Christopher, "and I've already shocked him. What is the point in changing clothes? Captain, would you feel more comfortable if I took my breeches off?"
"No," he said hastily.
"Good, I'll keep them on. Really, I don't see why women shouldn't dress like this all the time. One can walk freely and even leap. How is one to chase after a goat in skirts?"

"I carry thoughts of you like my own personal constellation. How far away you are, my dearest friend, but no farther than those fixed stars in my soul."

The boy heaved a sigh. "I would ask to go with you," he said, " but I have to finish my lessons. I so look forward to the day when I know everything. Then I won't have to read any more books or do any more counting."
Beatrix smiled. "I don't wish to be discouraging, Rye, but it's not possible to know everything."
"Mama does." Rye paused reflectively. "At least, Papa says we must pretend she does, because it makes her happy."
"Your father," Beatrix informed him with a laugh, " is one of the wisest men I've ever known"

"...it was better to answer, no matter how ineptly, thank to withhold a reply.  Because sometimes silence could wound someone nearly as badly as a bullet.

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