Her eyes widened at her forgetfulness to inquire of his whereabouts, and a fearsome blush arose on her cheeks. "Dear Lord," She whispered breathily, and excused herself from the table.
"Is something the matter?" Louis asked politely.
I shook my head, and murmured, "Nothing at all." Which was as far from the truth as it could be. Louis glanced at me knowingly, as if he knew all I had not told him, which he probably did. So, to change the subject, I struck up a conversation with him.
"Louis," I began sweetly. "Is your brother Daniel well? We missed his presence this afternoon."
"He is…quite well," Louis hesitated, looking away from my unwavering gaze. "He is in Hartington, with our aunt and uncle…"
"Oh!" I responded, surprised. "Are your aunt and uncle well?"
"Yes, they are fine." He replied shortly.
"Then, I daresay, what business does your brother have there?" Faith interrupted, eyes wide with intrigue.
"He is courting a Miss Cynthia Jones of Hartington." Louis sighed, brushing a lock of straight blond hair out of his eyes. "I apologize for withholding the information from you."
"You are not at fault in the least, I assure you, Mr. Stevens." I smiled sadly. "Although you must not withhold any information of the lady from us, for Daniel is one of our dearest friends."
"Yes," Faith agreed cheerfully. "What is her manner like? And what of her appearance?"
"Well, Daniel has written to me and told that Miss Jones is of almost porcelain complexion, with long, silken wavy fair tresses. She has brown eyes, and is quite petite."
"And her manner?" Faith continued.
"Daniel has said that she is eager and friendly, quite gracious in her ways, and is an endearing and loving sort of woman. She sounds quite divine."
"How wonderful," I murmured.
"Shall he return with her once he has completed his visit with your aunt and uncle?" Faith inquired curiously.
"I believe that is what he intends, so that the lady might be able to meet our parents, but he has not said anything of it."
"Ah." I nodded, and stared at my folded hands in my lap. The thought of Daniel marrying did not disgust me as I thought it was. It was more of an ever growing contentment. If Daniel was happy, I was happy. We'd never had any romancing anyways. That was more of Clarence and Fredrick, our usual banter and flirting, which in my eyes was playful and insincere. But I knew it was not that to Fredrick, but perhaps to Clarence.
Clarence. I felt my face warm at the thought of our quick disagreement and even quicker resolve. We were the best of friends, we were both aware of that…but was he aware of the fluttering my heart whenever he approached me? I wasn't even sure of its meaning, myself, so how could he interpret it?
"Well," I felt myself say contently. "I am sincerely happy for his newfound happiness."
"As am I." Faith added, smiling brightly at him. "For your dear brother deserves such happiness."
"Yes, Daniel is a wonderful chap, and does deserve it," Louis agreed, although a slight frown set on his usually joyous face. "I am just unsure about the lady, since we do not truly know her, although Daniel says she is a wondrous creature."
"Louis," I smiled gently. "Do trust your brother. He is a good judge of character as anyone, surely you know that."
"Yes, yes," He nodded. "He was always good at that."
"See, my dear?" Faith grinned reassuringly. "Daniel will be fine. You must trust him to make his own decisions."
"I suppose I should," Louis said lightly. "Thank you for the insight, Ladies Darcy."
We both smiled at him knowingly, and took sips from our glasses. Mrs. Reynolds returned to the dining room, a tray filled with steaming bowls of cloudy chowder.
"The chowder, ladies and sir." Mrs. Reynolds announced humbly. She glanced around the table for a moment, and realized Mother had gone. "Miss Talia, do you know if Mrs. Darcy shall be returning to the table?"
"Yes, she will, although she may be awhile. Perhaps you should keep her bowl warm in the kitchen?" I suggested.
"Yes, Miss." She murmured, setting my bowl in front of me.
"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds," I whispered, my voice barely audible. She smiled gently at me, the worn laugh lines at the edges of her eyes crinkling happily.
"You're quite welcome, Miss," She mumbled, looking away from me to set Faith's bowl in front of her. Mrs. Reynolds set Louis's bowl down finally, and exited the room silently.
I leaned back in my chair, and rested my weary head on the back of the chair. Faith eyed me suspiciously and asked, "Talia? Are you weary or tired?"
"A bit," I replied slowly, choosing my words ever-so-carefully. "I suppose it is just the hurried fashion of everything nowadays…Reginald's engagement, our cousins coming to visit, and David's…" David's what? What was he even doing there? "David's journey." I mumbled.
"Shall I call for Mrs. Reynolds to escort you to your chamber?" She asked with mock concern. The only thing she wanted, which we both knew, was Louis all to herself.
"No," I practically grinned. "I think I shall finish dinner, and then retire. I'd hate to miss out on Mr. Stevens' company."
"Well I am quite pleased you value my company so much." Louis regarded with a sly smirk, which for some odd reason, made my cheeks flush. Why was I blushing at the mere Louis Stevens, when Faith was the one who adored him, and he her?
I could feel Faith's petrifying glare from across the table, but I kept my eyes on my cooling bowl of chowder. I spooned a bit into my mouth, and swallowed the warm, salty chowder. Avoiding her prying eyes as long as possible, I relished the chowder, letting the potatoes melt on my tongue for as long as I can. At the pitter patter of Mother's slippered feet, I turned my head slightly, to see her unaccompanied. Where is Elijah?
"Elijah apologizes, he is unwell." Mother said smoothly, and returns to her place.
"Please offer him my condolences, Madam Darcy." Louis replied.
"He's probably getting over the last of his hangover." Faith muttered, scowling. I chuckled softly at her exasperation, and called for Mrs. Reynolds.
"I asked Mrs. Reynolds to keep your chowder warm for you Mother," I explained, noting her frantic glances around the room, searching for her chowder.
"How thoughtful of you." She murmured, her voice crisp and almost tart. Mother was certainly upset. Mrs. Reynolds scurries out of the kitchen, Mother's steaming bowl of chowder in her hands.
"Here you are, Madam."
Mother nodded dismissively, and stared at the table. What was going on?
After dinner, Louis thanked us for dinner, but apologized and wished to return to his family. He did not want to burden us, he said, with Elijah being unwell. This made Faith especially furious, and stormed up to her room in a flourished huff as soon as he departed. I read for the rest of the evening contentedly with Mother did her sewing, and at promptly nine o'clock, retired to bed.
I tugged my warm quilt up to my chin, and shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to open them ever again. I began to drift into sleep, but a soft knock tugged me into awakening. I slipped out of my bed silently, and cracked open my door to see a bleary eyed, blotchy cheeked Faith.
"Faith," I gasped, pulling her inside. "Are you well?"
"Goodness, no." She snapped, and sat down on my tussled bed. "Do you…find Louis…appealing?"
I bit back a boisterous laugh, and frowned. "No. However, I know you do."
"You're absolutely sure you don't find him flattering or handsome?" Faith questioned once again. I shook my head, and felt my cheeks flush at the thought of what Clarence would've done to his younger brother had he seen his flirtatious manner this evening.
"No." I admitted quietly. "There is only one Stevens for me, sister."
Faith's eyes widened slightly, but she giggled softly, and almost giddily. "He certainly does adore you, Talia."
I blushed once again, and looked away from Faith. Did he? I faintly remembered a creeping flush on his shaven cheeks when I let mine brush against them, and felt my own ever present blush warm even more.
"You're blushing, even thinking about him!" She cried knowingly. I laughed, but did not deny it. "You two are such charismatic people that you cannot even approach one another with the thought of sharing such an admiration…"
I sat down beside my rambling sister, her eyes brightened in her romantic fantasy of Clarence and I. I faked a yawn, and let my body fall back against the fluffed pillows and still warm blanket.
"Faith," I whined, muffling another yawn. "I'm dreadfully tired. May we speak of this in the morning?"
"Yes, yes, of course." She bumbled, sliding off of the bed. "Good night, Talia."
"G'night." I whispered softly, and turned away from her receding frame.
"Talia? Before you fall asleep…I just wanted to apologize for being so…vivacious, I suppose."
"Never apologize for that." I mumbled, and shut my eyes once again.