That antiquated tradition of allowing the men to choose which woman to lead, and in doing so accompany for the course of the meal, into the dining room is one I have never particularly enjoyed for it has rarely worked to my advantage. It was Darby who quickly stole my arm from more amenable company when the order to Dine was called and he who nattered into my ear the entire meal. It was no wonder he should remain so slender for he concerned himself almost exclusively with what came forth from his mouth rather than what was to go into it. To my other side I was granted no reprieve for there sat the eternally designing Nicholas Martin, rarely speaking yet always observing every movement so closely I could not help but be unnerved - what was of so great interest about reaching for a fork, I wondered. I found myself longing to retire to the Library where I could take up a novel on any subject (the topic was only accessory to the main goal, anyhow) and make a recluse of myself for the evening.
"And what do you think of the war, Nicholas?" My Uncle's question, so closely directed, caught my attention.
"To be perfectly honest, I feel it is less a necessity than a needless military exercise designed to intimidate the Russians into doing what they would have likely done anyway but now at significantly greater expense to us." the saturnine Martin brother tersely answered.
"You believe the Russians were never a threat then?" Uncle Richard followed.
"No, their military is scarcely what one would call modern, and no match for our own - they would not be foolhardy enough to risk such a crushing defeat when they are scarcely holding onto internal stability." There were few in the Empire who even considered holding an unfavorable opinion of the war; to offer one so openly was certainly bold of this young man. And not only a dissenting voice, but one that was based upon reason (whether accurate or not) as opposed to some visceral fear of personal loss or pacifist philosophy! I felt a new respect for my neighbor - at the very least, he seemed to have his own mind.
"What say you, Mr. Underhill?" my Uncle asked seeking support for his cause.
"It is a complicated issue. To say the Russians are embroiled in their own troubles is true - but it is remarkable how many of those troubles disappear in times of war."
"So, you are suggesting Russia might wage a war in order to stabilize itself?" Nicholas accused - still waters ran deep in this man, it seemed.
"Not exactly, merely that such an outcome might have entered into their consideration. There can be no question that to take India would have numerous benefits to them that would likely outweigh the costs involved. If we did not make such a show of force they might see it for the invitation such inaction is and roll into the country - thus increasing their prospects in the world while decimating our own. National pride would merely be a grand added benefit."
"And what say you, Lord Norbert? You have been quite quiet on the topic." Uncle Richard asked.
"Oh yes, well..." Lord Norbert stuttered, dabbing the corners of his mouth nervously with his napkin. "I suppose whatever Parliament thinks is best is what we should do." he simpered pathetically. Uncle Richard laughed heartily at the pitiful man's paltry offering to the conversation. Millie shot a look at me from the end of the table as if to emphasize that her earlier point had been proved. Contempt for the man rose within me instantly at the sight of that fool smile, so inconguent with those eyes!
"It is no man indeed who does not think for himself!" Nicholas growled at Lord Norbert.
"Well, it just doesn't seem all that important to me." Lord Norbert whimpered defensively, as though wounded. Nicholas jumped to his feet, leaning heavily on the table. Alarmed, I looked to my Uncle but finding him watching the exchange with great glee, I could not help but think he had orchestrated the whole exchange. In my other ear Darby prattled on about I had no idea what at this point.
"The future of your country does not seem that important to you? Of the British Empire?!"
"I suppose it is, but Afghanistan is so far from here and its people so backward I can hardly be asked to think seriously about it. It's not as though we know anyone over there. And really, what does it have to do with the market value of my cows?" Nicholas looked as though he might burst with fury burning hot enough to incinerate his insipid opponent to ash.
"Nicky!" Mrs. Martin chastised. She had only to fix her son with the most stern look and he retreated to his seat, his dark eyes flashing impotent rage. I could not deny that I felt sympathy for the man who had watched his fine thoughts laid waste by those most puerile and ignorant quality, as pearls cast before swine. It seemed my Uncle's plan had worked, or perhaps, noticing the victorious gleam in Lord Danver's eye, the blame should more appropriately be laid elsewhere - regardless of the villain behind the conspiracy the intent was without question: Nicholas Martin and Quentin Underhill had displayed those qualities most intriguing to me; those of intelligence, independent thought, and strong will. This was done, of course, at the expense of Lord Norbert but he did not seem perturbed in the least by it, continuing to sip his tea with his twitching smile as though nothing had occurred. Perhaps I might forgo the companionship of yellowing pages this evening, afterall.
"If it is of any consolation," I whispered to my dejected neighbor. "I thought you made an excellent argument." He looked to me, astonished, as though he had entirely forgotten my presence at his side.
"Thank you." he allowed with a slight smile.
Following supper we adjourned to the Library. When compared with those I had been accustomed to - the grand libraries of Crawford Hall and the vast estates of the Wyndham family - this library, though certainly sizable in its own right and spectacularly garbed in polished honey maple, seemed wonderfully cozy. I instantly envisioned myself curled in the love seat corner by the fire wiling away many hours of the rainy English Spring with a book. I scanned the room when my eyes fell upon two very unusual sentinels watching us from their high perch on the shelves opposite the fire. I had neglected them on first entering but now I could not turn my eyes away from their hollow stares. Without tearing myself from their gaze I could tell Millie had noticed them as well from her sudden gasp.
"Oh! How very ghastly!" Mrs. Martin exclaimed.
"I see you've noticed the pride of my collection." my Uncle beamed, sweeping his hand as though to introduce us to our eternally grinning companions. "Yes, they are Etruscan in origin. Supposedly a man and wife: he a soldier, killed in battle" he indicated the sun-bleached white skull. "and she a simple farm wife." he said with a flourish toward the brown skull. "Both wonderfully preserved."
"Why would you keep such things?" Mrs. Martin protested.
"To gaze upon the faces of antiquity." he replied magnanimously.
"He may like to gaze upon the faces of antiquity, but they give me goose flesh." Millie whispered in my ear. I smiled. "How would you like to be displayed for all to see like some oriental vase?"
"I doubt I would have much opinion one way or the other being that my mind and tongue would be elsewhere."
"And the latter organ often has an opinion before the former has even pondered the subject a moment." Millie teased.
"Well, were I on a shelf, I should likely have sufficient time to exercise both in my examination of preference."
"On the subject of preferences..." she inclined her head towards the young men in our party who were examining the specimens.
"It seems I may have underestimated your judgement, they are not nearly so dreadful as I had anticipated - well... excepting that one." I answered nodding towards Darby who had still not ceased talking. "It is utterly remarkable how much that one man could talk! How does he find so many insignificant subjects to remark on? I cannot help but stand in awe of his stamina." My dear friend giggled.
"Only that one? I thought certain you would have some cutting critique of Lord Norbert to offer. I will give that he is handsome, but I have never known you to turn a blind eye to a man's deficiencies based only on an agreeable visage." Millie pouted.
"Is that all you see me as? The grand critic of men?" I laughed. Millie raised her eyebrows coquettishly making her already large brown eyes appear all the larger.
"Do you protest your Title? But you have worked so diligently to obtain it!"
"I do concede that my talents in that arena are unsurpassed - or at least I have not met the person, woman or man, who surpasses them - but alas I cannot offer any judgement on the Lord. It would be a waste of my abilities to articulate deficiencies so blatantly displayed." I said pointing my nose to the ceiling, a positive prig! We both melted into tittering laughter.
"Alright," she acquiesced, fighting to compose herself. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, "What do you think of Mr. Overhill?"
"I have had very little chance to observe him but he seems to be respectably intelligent; if generally indifferent."
"And Nicholas Martin - what is your opinion of him?" Millie pressed.
"He is... intriguing." I allowed. My companion arched her eyebrow.
"Oh, intriguing? My dear Mina! I don't think I have ever heard you allow such a glowing report to pass from your lips." I could feel my face flush from embarrassment. "Though given his performance at supper, I suppose, you would hardly think otherwise. But it is a pity he so outshone our favorite - though I am certain Mr. Underhill will win out."
"Millie." I scolded. "It is not some competition; I merely said he was intriguing and that is the end of it. The Etruscan skulls are intriguing as well and I daresay they are much better company."
"Oh Mina," Millie sighed. "You are impossible."
"Only mostly." I smiled wryly at my friend.
The evening passed pleasantly enough. Lord Danvers proposed a game of whist with Millie, myself, and Mr. Underhill who declined in order to keep company with Lord Norbert - thus Nicholas Martin joined our ranks. The Danvers, always in such perfect sympathy, had us easily outmatched.
"I believe our doom is nigh." Nicholas chuckled softly as Lord Danvers took another yet another trick.
"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no ill..." I said, placing my play on the table. Nicholas winced. He followed with a Queen of Spades - the suit was Hearts and neither were the Trump. From the look on his face I could guess that none of those Trump cards he held were of noteworthy rank. My King took the trick but the game was clearly lost - my own hand being a hodgepodge of worthlessness and dreck excepting that one King. I gave a gallow's smile to my partner.
"Should I call the Undertaker then?" he asked.
"It would likely be prudent." I answered. "Two caskets, if you please."
"Oh, it can't be all that bad." Lord Danvers laughed playing a three on my Jack.
"Oh, I believe it can." I replied as Millie took the trick with a long reserved Queen. "I wonder, what business does Mr. Underhill have with Lord Norbert?" I mused aloud vaguely observing the two talking over an open book.
"Are you disappointed he wouldn't join us?" Millie suggested mischief gleaming in her eyes.
"Not especially, the present company is quite agreeable - it is merely a passing curiosity."
"I couldn't guess except to say I believe the two have been associates for some time." Lord Danvers answered. "Their friendship does seem a bit of an oddity."
"Perhaps." Nicholas said. "But they are both of the retiring sort, not inclined to societal pleasures."
"One could argue the same of you." I interjected provokingly.
"It could be said by those I am not known to. I enjoy company in small settings where conversation and thought are more the order of the day than pleasantries and dancing." I saw Millie attempt to stifle a laugh with her hand. I could read her thoughts without her even speaking them: There he is Mina - you could not have constructed a man more fitting to your desires. I smiled in spite of myself.
"You are very different from your brother, then." I joked.
"Yes." he sighed. "Yes, Darby certainly has an ease with manners and niceties. He is perfectly content to while away the hours with dozens of tales about his adventures - and to be sure, they are all quite grand. He is very popular with the young ladies who desire nothing more than entertainment and attention from a member of well esteemed family. He preens and laughs and flirts without ceasing for hours but at the days end he is always happiest when he is finally alone. But even then, I suspect he is not happy."
"How do you mean?" I prodded. I had supposed the affable chatter to be more for show than sincerity, but this seemed a rather tragic assertion.
"It is not my place, I'm sorry, I have already said far more than was prudent." he hemmed quickly, carelessly throwing a card I suspected was his highest trump which was easily beaten by Millie's lead card. He noticed his error as Millie scooped the trick towards her. "Blast!" he cursed under his breath.
"I heard you recently were returned from America?" Lord Danvers led. Nicholas seemed relieved of the change in topic.
"Yes, we were examining the new textile facilities." he answered. Thus the discussion turned towards industry. I tried to avoid Millie's knowing glances: her little suggestive smiles, her glowing eyes - such a piquing little pixie was she. And every time she caught my eye I could not help but blush for her unspoken accusations. The matter was not helped by Nicholas's occasional shy glances. He and I were easily trounced the following two rounds by Lord and Lady Danvers until finally Uncle Richard suggested the men retire to the smoking room for the rest of evening. I could not say whether I was glad or sorrow to see my partner go.
"War?" Millie held the deck up, I nodded in assent.
"War." This was our little game used since childhood to extract information. After ten tricks the person who had taken the most was allowed to ask a question and the other must answer it honestly. I took six of the first ten.
"Was the questioning on the war Edgar's plot?" I veritably demanded.
"My Edgar?" she looked at me with those great innocent eyes. A conspiratorial smile spread across her face. "I don't know what you mean. He may have suggested something to that effect but the topic of choice was entirely your Uncle's."
"I suspected as much." Ten more hands, Millie's victory.
"Are you enjoying the evening?"
"Yes, surprisingly. I had expected it to be far more dreadful."
"I suspect it would have been had you and Mr. Martin not taken such a shine to each other." It was infuriating to blush so often in one evening. Rather than answer her I threw a King - it would be the only trick I took this round.
"Tell me the truth, how do you feel about him?" She leveled her eyes with mine, her smile now replaced with a very serious expression.
"Millie, I've only just met him!" I cried. "I hardly know what to think!"
"Mina, you know my only concern is for your happiness, you have never taken to any man and... well... even if it is almost nothing, I have never seen you this way."
"And what way is that?" I retorted indignantly.
"Flustered, glowing - it's hard to characterize it exactly." she attempted. I sighed,
"I'll concede, I would not object to seeing him again. But that is all you will get from me for now." Ten more rounds, my win. "How are you and Mr. Overhill acquainted? You favor him as a suitor yet he has barely spoken a full sentence to you or Lord Danvers."
"I am not especially familiar with him, perse - it is his sister I am closer to. Dinah and I came out together and I suppose the combination of general nerves and outright terror cemented our bond despite our differences. She is far more serious than I, more studious - much of the time I don't understand one whit of what she is talking about! She has always spoken very highly of her brother; it seemed a sensible match."
"Don't think it outright dismissal of your favorite, Millie! From what little I have seen he appears to be an interesting man, it's just-"
"Just that Nicholas Martin is more "intriguing"." she interrupted with a laugh. "It's your turn." I picked up my tricks and folded them into the stack.
"How are you and Edgar doing, really?" I asked hesitantly.
"He is a wonderful man, he truly is. I won't deny my good fortune in having him as my life companion. But we have been married for three years now and it can be hard to hear the other women talk - I know they mean well! But there are no words of consolation they can offer when they have scads of children playing about them and I still have none. We've been to the Doctors and there is nothing wrong with either of us. Edgar has been wonderful, of course, he has even suggested taking in one of the local orphans but it's just not the same. I try not to let on to him that it troubles me so though I am certain he knows. I think that is why he indulges my long stays in Sweden. He'd make such a wonderful father! You should see him with Ingrid - how he dotes on her!" her eyes welled with unbidden tears as she spoke. I took her hands in mine,
"I am sorry for you both, I wish I could do more but all I can do is offer my prayers."
"Prayers will do the most good, I believe, for if God can give a child to a virgin surely He can grant me one as well if it is His plan." she managed a smile. "It looks like I've won the next question: How are things at home?"
"Honestly? Father spends much of his time away, tending to the trade business in South Africa. Chet and Arthur seem to be intent on carefully tending all the seeds of depravity they can plant in themselves. It would concern me less were they not so close with Elizabeth - I fear they will corrupt her. With Mother spending most of her days in bed ill they have taken the lion's share of Elizabeth's attention."
"When is the child due to arrive?" Millie inquired.
"November, I believe."
"What do you think it will be?"
"I hope it will be a boy - I worry that at his current rate of self-destruction we may find need of a second inheritor." I said wryly. For all my attempts at jest, Millie knew I feared for my brother terribly. He no longer took great pains to conceal his ever growing laudanum use and with another child on the way the tincture was always readily available to him. I hadn't noticed it when we were younger - a spoonful here and there shared with his friend - but now it was a few spoons daily mixed with his wine. Any attempts to discuss it with him met with denial. I shudder to think of what other habits he has developed unchecked by our parents. Millie nodded her understanding.
"Oh my, it's getting late!" Mrs. Martin exclaimed with a yawn as the clock chimed the hour. "I suppose we really must be getting on."
"Yes, it does seem to be that time." My aunt agreed. Millie and I compared our piles,
"I believe you won this game. You always did have more luck at cards." I conceded. She smiled,
"I will try to see you again before we leave for home."
"Please do - I hate that we have so little time together!" and with that we embraced. As we walked to the foyer to meet the men my eyes were once again arrested by the pair of skulls staring sightlessly at the occupants of the room. What secrets lay behind those toothy grins? I wondered.