"How was it?" Charles asked, hardly waiting for me to step through his front door before leading me towards the parlor. He hadn't gone with me to the Ainsworth's for the same reason he hadn't led me around the ballroom; I was supposed to be an independent businessman.
"Fine," I smiled, throwing myself back into composure. Ever since I'd left the gaze of those brown eyes--as full as skepticism as they were beauty--I'd been shaking my head and muttering to myself. It was the same young lady who had overheard us talking at the ball last night, I was sure of it. The golden-brown hair, the confident voice...and the daughter of the banker of all people!
If that wasn't a red flag, I didn't know what was. It was obvious she was suspicious. And it was obvious her father felt a sense of pride in her. If she ever discovered my whole scheme and decided to speak up it was likely he'd trust his daughter more than a stranger. He wouldn't grant me anything.
"Well," Charles seated himself on the cushioned sofa in his parlor, "What did he say?"
I pulled myself from my thoughts and sat in one of the chairs, "Oh, just what we had expected. He told me the amount of the estate, which we already knew, and said that the owner was willing to sell it to the highest bidder."
"Bidder?" Charles cocked an eyebrow. But his attention was suddenly drawn away and he looked up. I turned my head as the air filled with the warm, sweet smell of pastries. His wife entered and, with a smile and a greeting, she placed the fresh plate of refreshments on the card table in front of us.
"Thank you, dear," he grinned, immediatly taking one.
"Just make sure to leave enough for our guest," she teased. She politely left but I had to wait for Charles to finish swallowing before he continued.
"And just who is our competition? I thought he would just sell it to the man with the first and biggest offer who had the most promising standing."
My stomach grumbled. I had left extra early that morning so as to prove to the banker my enthusiasm and hadn't yet eaten breakfast. Charles took another pastry and I decided if I didn't grab one now I might never get it.
"That's what I found interesting," I said in between soft, sugary bites, "Apparently someone else has shown some interest in it before me. He is out of town presently but the owner is fond of the man and wants to give him a fair chance."
Charles mused on this for a moment and I smiled at the crumbs that stuck to his mustache.
"I suppose this our big chance then," he said, "While our competition is gone, we need to make the owner just as fond of you if not more. It would also be wise to maintain your reputation among the people as well--the more witnesses we have of your character the better."
I nodded and licked my lips. My cousin dabbed at his mouth with a pocket handkerchief and then looked up at me again.
"Did anything else happen? Any little hints you might've picked up reading in between the lines that might help or hinder us?"
Those brown eyes flashed back into my mind for a moment, jabbing me with unease, but I only shook my head.
"No. He seemed indifferent to the matter as a whole."
Satisfied, Charles relaxed back on the sofa. I subtly did the same, relieved by his simple reaction. I couldn't afford to inform my cousin of the potential snag in our otherwise flawless disguise. He'd already been so merciful a giver into this whole scheme that I didn't have the heart. After the great amount of money and trust he had invested in me, it would be greatly disapointing for him to learn that I had potentially thrown it all away on the first night.
Of course, I was probably overreacting. I was experimenting with something new here and I was sure my thoughts only stemmed from my nerves or concious. However, one could never be too safe.
"Oh," Charles suddenly sat up again and pulled an envelop from his pocket, "I nearly forgot. This is for you."
Surprised, I slowly took it from his outstretched hand. Uneasiness gripped me for a moment; could it be my family? Had they somehow found my location? I broke the wax seal. Inside was a folded letter that still held the subtle smell of fresh ink. This halted my fears as it would've taken much longer for a letter from them to arrive, and I became more curious.
My eyes scanned the spidery cursive with a slower pace than most, I was sure. My education had been somewhat limited in my childhood and I'd never become a proffecient reader, though I was an able one.
I could feel Charle's curious gaze searching my face for any sign of expression.
"What is it?"
"A letter from the Evans," I answered, "They've invited me to dine with them tonight."
He chuckled, "I didn't think it'd take long. You did better than I might've thought last night."
"Fine," I smiled, throwing myself back into composure. Ever since I'd left the gaze of those brown eyes--as full as skepticism as they were beauty--I'd been shaking my head and muttering to myself. It was the same young lady who had overheard us talking at the ball last night, I was sure of it. The golden-brown hair, the confident voice...and the daughter of the banker of all people!
If that wasn't a red flag, I didn't know what was. It was obvious she was suspicious. And it was obvious her father felt a sense of pride in her. If she ever discovered my whole scheme and decided to speak up it was likely he'd trust his daughter more than a stranger. He wouldn't grant me anything.
"Well," Charles seated himself on the cushioned sofa in his parlor, "What did he say?"
I pulled myself from my thoughts and sat in one of the chairs, "Oh, just what we had expected. He told me the amount of the estate, which we already knew, and said that the owner was willing to sell it to the highest bidder."
"Bidder?" Charles cocked an eyebrow. But his attention was suddenly drawn away and he looked up. I turned my head as the air filled with the warm, sweet smell of pastries. His wife entered and, with a smile and a greeting, she placed the fresh plate of refreshments on the card table in front of us.
"Thank you, dear," he grinned, immediatly taking one.
"Just make sure to leave enough for our guest," she teased. She politely left but I had to wait for Charles to finish swallowing before he continued.
"And just who is our competition? I thought he would just sell it to the man with the first and biggest offer who had the most promising standing."
My stomach grumbled. I had left extra early that morning so as to prove to the banker my enthusiasm and hadn't yet eaten breakfast. Charles took another pastry and I decided if I didn't grab one now I might never get it.
"That's what I found interesting," I said in between soft, sugary bites, "Apparently someone else has shown some interest in it before me. He is out of town presently but the owner is fond of the man and wants to give him a fair chance."
Charles mused on this for a moment and I smiled at the crumbs that stuck to his mustache.
"I suppose this our big chance then," he said, "While our competition is gone, we need to make the owner just as fond of you if not more. It would also be wise to maintain your reputation among the people as well--the more witnesses we have of your character the better."
I nodded and licked my lips. My cousin dabbed at his mouth with a pocket handkerchief and then looked up at me again.
"Did anything else happen? Any little hints you might've picked up reading in between the lines that might help or hinder us?"
Those brown eyes flashed back into my mind for a moment, jabbing me with unease, but I only shook my head.
"No. He seemed indifferent to the matter as a whole."
Satisfied, Charles relaxed back on the sofa. I subtly did the same, relieved by his simple reaction. I couldn't afford to inform my cousin of the potential snag in our otherwise flawless disguise. He'd already been so merciful a giver into this whole scheme that I didn't have the heart. After the great amount of money and trust he had invested in me, it would be greatly disapointing for him to learn that I had potentially thrown it all away on the first night.
Of course, I was probably overreacting. I was experimenting with something new here and I was sure my thoughts only stemmed from my nerves or concious. However, one could never be too safe.
"Oh," Charles suddenly sat up again and pulled an envelop from his pocket, "I nearly forgot. This is for you."
Surprised, I slowly took it from his outstretched hand. Uneasiness gripped me for a moment; could it be my family? Had they somehow found my location? I broke the wax seal. Inside was a folded letter that still held the subtle smell of fresh ink. This halted my fears as it would've taken much longer for a letter from them to arrive, and I became more curious.
My eyes scanned the spidery cursive with a slower pace than most, I was sure. My education had been somewhat limited in my childhood and I'd never become a proffecient reader, though I was an able one.
I could feel Charle's curious gaze searching my face for any sign of expression.
"What is it?"
"A letter from the Evans," I answered, "They've invited me to dine with them tonight."
He chuckled, "I didn't think it'd take long. You did better than I might've thought last night."
***
The rich smell of steamed vegetables, fresh meat, and several delecicies I didn't quite recognize was the first thing to greet me into the lofty Evans mansion. The second was Miss Charolette.
"Did you have a nice trip?" she asked as one of their servants took my coat.
I smiled, "Yes. Quite nice, thank you."
"Welcome to our home, Mr. Samuelson," Mr. Evans gave a stiff bow. I switched my friendliness to sterness and bowed, "It is a deep honor, Sir."
Supper was just another juggling act. Charles had drilled me on common table curtesies before I arrived so while I kept those in mind I also had to keep up my social act.
"You have a beautiful home Mrs. Evans," I smiled, looking up the elaborate chandelier and detailed art on the wall, "I don't think I've had the fortune to be aquinted with such good taste."
She smiled wide, "Oh, thank you Mr. Samuelson. I do take quite a bit of pride in it."
"As you should," my tone remained easy and cheerful. I then turned to my full platter and forced myself to take small, slow bites. The pressure in the room, created by my entrance, had since subsided since that last comment and I smiled to myself, feeling rather satisfied with how well I had performed so far.
"Did you enjoy the ball?" Charolette asked.
I finished swallowing, dabbed at my mouth, and then gave a nod, "It was fairly satisfying. I enjoyed most of the orchestra and decorations though I did have a few of my own suggestions that might improve it."
It was a shameful lie. In reality, I'd never attended anything so marvelous. It had even taken an unusual length of time for me to fall asleep last night due to all the excitement. However, it seemed to suit Charolette enough so it suited me as well.
"Do you study Latin Mr. Samuelson?"
Gratitude that I had chosen to take small bites filled me as anything bigger would've caused me to choke. Latin? My english reading was slow as it was. Hopefully this wasn't another potential problem Charles and I had overlooked.
Either way, he wasn't present in my time of need. In order to give myself a moment to think, I swallowed hard, took a sip from my glass, and dabbed my mouth again. Finally I looked back up.
"Unfortunetly, I haven't been as successful in that area of study I wish to be. I know a modest amount, but I've been recently entranced by the study of," I paused very briefly to glance at a bookshelf behind Mr. Evans and found the boldest title, "Archemedes Theorems."
"The mathematics and sciences suit you better?" he nodded, "I prefer them as well. Have you studied Darwin?"
I might've had an uncle with the name but had otherwise never heard of it. I decided to answer with generals.
"Oh yes. He is a genius, is he not?"
"Yes, yes, quite," Mr. Evan smiled, obviously pleased to have someone he thought shared an interest, "I was particularly impressed with his ambition in sailing forth to all those islands. How refreshing it must've been."
"All for the sake of improving one's intellect," I said with awe, "I can't think of a more noble cause for such an adventure."
Mr. Evans carried on for awhile after that, speaking of something called evolution and naming several animal species that I doubted I could even pronounce correctly, let alone be familiar with. However, I remained loyal to my interested expressions and even dared to make an observation based on a point he'd already made.
Finally, after a simple game of cards that I quickly caught onto and eventually won, the successful evening came to an end. My hosts sincerely wished me well and I showered them with a decent amount of thanks and compliments. I supposed the only mistake I made was before I passed their threshold.
"Will you be remaining at your cousin's home?" Charolette asked. Though her tone was polite, I could sense the lack of admiration at the prospect. Her parents seemed interested in in the inquiry as well so, under the pressure of the moment, I answered rashly.
"Oh no. I'll be establishing myself at the...hotel soon enough. I prefer to not be a burden to others. Besides that, it has a closer proximity to the estate I plan on gaining."
***
"Charles!" I hissed, throwing open the door of his library. He suddenly jerked up and I realized he'd been asleep.
"Y-yes?" he yawned.
"How much does it cost to stay in a hotel?"
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