Nelly grabbed Mary and made her cotton hands clap silently.
"Another one, another one! Please?"
I laughed at her eager playfullness but was admittedly tired of the game; I'd been lucky to muster up enough imagination for one story, let alone two. Luckily Mr. Ainsworth came to the rescue.
"That's quite enough Nelly. Leave our guest alone for now and eat your supper."
Her lip jutted out in a pout and I found myself laughing once more.
"No worries," I leaned over and whispered conspiringly, "I'm sure there's dessert for those who do."
She perked up at that and turned more willingly to her plate, allowing me to turn to mine. The smell of baked potatoes and other cooked vegetables graced the entire room and normally would've had my stomach growling. But as I politely filled my platter and smoothed my handkerchief out across my lap, the person sitting on the other end of the table continued to rob me of my appetite. I stole several glances at him just to be sure but there was no mistaking it. The slicked hair and prominent facial features, and that disgustingly deceptive smile. It couldn't be anyone other than Nathaniel Scott.
"Are you sure?" Ms. Ainsworth's voice sounded in my ear. I immediatly jerked my gaze away from their other guest and forced myself to relax.
"Of course," I smiled, thinking fast enough to come up with a convincing save, "I was just observing your father."
I leaned her direction and casually pointed my fork in Mr. Ainsworth's direction, "I have noticed that his eyes keep wandering this direction. Any reason for that?"
She slightly blushed and I realized the change of topic had worked, drawing her thoughts away from what would doubtless become a tough subject. Yet my question was an honest one. Though Mr. Scott's arrival had knocked me off balance, the banker's scrutinizing had not escaped my attention either. He'd watched where I'd placed myself at the table, how I told Nelly a story, and even my method of filling my platter. Now that I thought about it, the extra attention made me a little uneasy. Luckily Mr. Scott now had him engaged in conversation but even then Ms. Ainsworth and I caught him throw a glance back towards us.
"I'm afraid couldn't tell you," she finally replied with a small giggle.
"Or you refuse to.'
Her laugh grew some, making me smile. But it was a shaky smile. He was having second thoughts, I was sure of it. Why else would he be studying my every move? The banker wasn't so sure he could trust me afterall. Had I slipped somewhere? Thoughts still reeling from Mr. Scott's presence, I forced myself to mentally run through everything Charles had ever taught me. As far as I knew I'd followed all the mannerisms. I'd been as kind and considerate as possible. Had I overdone it? Had playing with Nelly marred my image of a self-important businessman? Why couldn't Charles have returned a day early?
Suddenly I was yanked from that right back into my original concern.
"Oh, where are my manners? Mr. Samuelson, have you met Mr. Scott here?"
The question startled me but I quickly recovered. At the chance to speak to him, a simmering anger began boiling away any other worries. I hardly looked at Mr. Ainsworth in my reply, my eyes locked on Mr. Scott's icy blue ones, "Why yes, I believe I have. We met in the countryside, if I remember correctly."
"Did we?" he asked, his gaze much more liquidy than my solid one, "I don't recall such a pleasure."
One of the younger Ms. Ainsworths--Nora or maybe Minerva, I couldn't remember the exact name--, was already bored with the conversation and suddenly interrupted it, "Mr. Scott, weren't you going to tell us about you're journey a few weeks ago?"
"Your journey?" I feighned innocent curiosity as I cut into my steak, "Yes, Mr. Scott. Do tell."
I felt the glare but ignored it, only putting the food in my mouth. The eldest Ms. Ainsworth's curious gaze could also be felt but kept my focus on Mr. Nathaniel. We both knew that if he didn't tell about his little 'journey' I most certainly could.
"I'm afraid it will have to wait," he smiled apologetically in the young lady's direction, "I really need to be getting home. The clouds looked unpromising for tonight's weather."
I smirked; Coward.
"Oh," Mr. Ainsworth looked concerned, "I'm sorry, Mr. Scott. Are you sure you can't stay longer? We've only just started."
"Please?" two of his youngest piped up.
He shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Again, I apologize. I hadn't noticed the clouds until I was on my way here and I didn't want to turn back after I'd already called."
Our host stood up, "Well then, allow me to at least show you to the door."
"Oh no, Mr. Ainsworth," I stood up myself, "Allow me. Mr. Scott and I have some...catching up to do."
The banker shrugged and regained his seat, "Very well."
"Mr. Nathaniel Scott," I said, shutting the door behind me.
He had already made his way off of the porch but at my address came to a surrendering stop.
"What brings you here?"
A half-confident smirk was on his face when he turned back around, "I could very well ask you the same question, Mr. Samuelson."
I scowled and he chuckled darkly, walking towards me, "Of course, I'd change my name as well if I were a Snyder."
"And yet you hold no shame for yourself," I growled. My eyes fell on his velvet cravaat and my fists clenched, "I'll bet you used the money that starved my family to buy yourself that necktie."
He shrugged innocently, his lips curled up in a sneer, "It wasn't me who stole it."
The anger that had been simmering before suddenly exploded and my arms darted out, gripping the man by the lapels of his expensive jacket and yanking him towards me. Fear crossed his face and I found it greatly satisfying.
"You don't know half of what went on that--"
"Mr. Samuelson?"
We both jerked our heads over to see the eldest Ms. Ainsworth standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion.
Coming to my senses, I released Nathaniel and smoothed his jacket back down. There was an awkward silence as he glared and she stared. Finally, I forced on another one of my countless fake smiles and approached her.
"Yes?"
"You...you left your jacket inside."
I gently took it from her, "Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you Ms. Ainsworth."
"My pleasure."
By the time I had turned back around Mr. Scott had reached his carriage. Ms. Ainsworth quickly retired to her home, leaving me to wallow in my anger and humiliation. There would be no telling Charles of this.
"Another one, another one! Please?"
I laughed at her eager playfullness but was admittedly tired of the game; I'd been lucky to muster up enough imagination for one story, let alone two. Luckily Mr. Ainsworth came to the rescue.
"That's quite enough Nelly. Leave our guest alone for now and eat your supper."
Her lip jutted out in a pout and I found myself laughing once more.
"No worries," I leaned over and whispered conspiringly, "I'm sure there's dessert for those who do."
She perked up at that and turned more willingly to her plate, allowing me to turn to mine. The smell of baked potatoes and other cooked vegetables graced the entire room and normally would've had my stomach growling. But as I politely filled my platter and smoothed my handkerchief out across my lap, the person sitting on the other end of the table continued to rob me of my appetite. I stole several glances at him just to be sure but there was no mistaking it. The slicked hair and prominent facial features, and that disgustingly deceptive smile. It couldn't be anyone other than Nathaniel Scott.
"Are you sure?" Ms. Ainsworth's voice sounded in my ear. I immediatly jerked my gaze away from their other guest and forced myself to relax.
"Of course," I smiled, thinking fast enough to come up with a convincing save, "I was just observing your father."
I leaned her direction and casually pointed my fork in Mr. Ainsworth's direction, "I have noticed that his eyes keep wandering this direction. Any reason for that?"
She slightly blushed and I realized the change of topic had worked, drawing her thoughts away from what would doubtless become a tough subject. Yet my question was an honest one. Though Mr. Scott's arrival had knocked me off balance, the banker's scrutinizing had not escaped my attention either. He'd watched where I'd placed myself at the table, how I told Nelly a story, and even my method of filling my platter. Now that I thought about it, the extra attention made me a little uneasy. Luckily Mr. Scott now had him engaged in conversation but even then Ms. Ainsworth and I caught him throw a glance back towards us.
"I'm afraid couldn't tell you," she finally replied with a small giggle.
"Or you refuse to.'
Her laugh grew some, making me smile. But it was a shaky smile. He was having second thoughts, I was sure of it. Why else would he be studying my every move? The banker wasn't so sure he could trust me afterall. Had I slipped somewhere? Thoughts still reeling from Mr. Scott's presence, I forced myself to mentally run through everything Charles had ever taught me. As far as I knew I'd followed all the mannerisms. I'd been as kind and considerate as possible. Had I overdone it? Had playing with Nelly marred my image of a self-important businessman? Why couldn't Charles have returned a day early?
Suddenly I was yanked from that right back into my original concern.
"Oh, where are my manners? Mr. Samuelson, have you met Mr. Scott here?"
The question startled me but I quickly recovered. At the chance to speak to him, a simmering anger began boiling away any other worries. I hardly looked at Mr. Ainsworth in my reply, my eyes locked on Mr. Scott's icy blue ones, "Why yes, I believe I have. We met in the countryside, if I remember correctly."
"Did we?" he asked, his gaze much more liquidy than my solid one, "I don't recall such a pleasure."
One of the younger Ms. Ainsworths--Nora or maybe Minerva, I couldn't remember the exact name--, was already bored with the conversation and suddenly interrupted it, "Mr. Scott, weren't you going to tell us about you're journey a few weeks ago?"
"Your journey?" I feighned innocent curiosity as I cut into my steak, "Yes, Mr. Scott. Do tell."
I felt the glare but ignored it, only putting the food in my mouth. The eldest Ms. Ainsworth's curious gaze could also be felt but kept my focus on Mr. Nathaniel. We both knew that if he didn't tell about his little 'journey' I most certainly could.
"I'm afraid it will have to wait," he smiled apologetically in the young lady's direction, "I really need to be getting home. The clouds looked unpromising for tonight's weather."
I smirked; Coward.
"Oh," Mr. Ainsworth looked concerned, "I'm sorry, Mr. Scott. Are you sure you can't stay longer? We've only just started."
"Please?" two of his youngest piped up.
He shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Again, I apologize. I hadn't noticed the clouds until I was on my way here and I didn't want to turn back after I'd already called."
Our host stood up, "Well then, allow me to at least show you to the door."
"Oh no, Mr. Ainsworth," I stood up myself, "Allow me. Mr. Scott and I have some...catching up to do."
The banker shrugged and regained his seat, "Very well."
***
He had already made his way off of the porch but at my address came to a surrendering stop.
"What brings you here?"
A half-confident smirk was on his face when he turned back around, "I could very well ask you the same question, Mr. Samuelson."
I scowled and he chuckled darkly, walking towards me, "Of course, I'd change my name as well if I were a Snyder."
"And yet you hold no shame for yourself," I growled. My eyes fell on his velvet cravaat and my fists clenched, "I'll bet you used the money that starved my family to buy yourself that necktie."
He shrugged innocently, his lips curled up in a sneer, "It wasn't me who stole it."
The anger that had been simmering before suddenly exploded and my arms darted out, gripping the man by the lapels of his expensive jacket and yanking him towards me. Fear crossed his face and I found it greatly satisfying.
"You don't know half of what went on that--"
"Mr. Samuelson?"
We both jerked our heads over to see the eldest Ms. Ainsworth standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion.
Coming to my senses, I released Nathaniel and smoothed his jacket back down. There was an awkward silence as he glared and she stared. Finally, I forced on another one of my countless fake smiles and approached her.
"Yes?"
"You...you left your jacket inside."
I gently took it from her, "Oh, I'm sorry. Thank you Ms. Ainsworth."
"My pleasure."
By the time I had turned back around Mr. Scott had reached his carriage. Ms. Ainsworth quickly retired to her home, leaving me to wallow in my anger and humiliation. There would be no telling Charles of this.
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