An Innocent Affair

X

"When thinking about what to do next with your life, don't ask yourself what you would succeed at, but what you would most enjoy failing at." Clifford Cohen

----

X.

Jem attended two further balls following the Fentonbury soirée, and was unsuccessful in securing a dance with Cressie at either of them. He was not at all certain how Mrs Martin had managed it, but she had filled Cressie's dance cards entirely before the commencement of the actual ball.

Jem's authority on this was sound as it had been Cressie herself to tell him this in the very brief moments that he had managed to speak to her, often in passing as she was handed off to her next suitor for a quadrille.

In watching her dance with a dozen gentlemen, Mr Delaney more than most, Jem ought to have felt jealousy. Of course, he did feel envy as any other red-blooded man would, but he did not feel jealousy. This was because it was apparent that Cressie would rather have been plucking chickens then spending time with any one of the fine aristocrats who sought her attentions.

But she didn't look at him the way that she looked at them. That was what saved Jem's heart from the anguish of jealousy. Her brown eyes filled with pleasure and enchantment whenever he was near, and it was only him who could provoke a smile in her that would show her adorable dimples. At least, Jem allowed himself to think this way. To hope this way.

Despite her lack of fortune, Cressie had a natural and effortless ability to be endearing and amiable. Those who could afford to marry for beauty saw Cressie as a fine prize.

Jem did not see her as a prize. She was not a thing to be collected or kept.

On the twenty-eighth of April and nearing one month into the beginning of the Season, Adam and Jem kept busy in the study. Despite being in London for the social festivities, the estate would not run itself and Jem was still committed to his vocation. It took Cecily marching in an hour or two before luncheon to announce that they all would be going for a promenade to pull their eyes from the ledgers.

Cecily was closely followed by Grace, who appeared less than impressed with the idea.

"Mother, we have work to do," Adam replied to Cecily idea dismissively.

"I don't believe I asked for a negotiation," Cecily retorted. "I am in no mind to be cooped up indoors today. Look at your wife. Look how sallow she appears having seen no sunlight."

Grace flushed as her eyebrows furrowed. "Your kindness knows no end, Cecily," she murmured.

Adam huffed as he abandoned his quill. "Anyone who believes my wife to be sallow is an idiot."

"Good!" enthused Cecily. "Tell that to the Marchioness of Highbury when we promenade, for that is exactly what she said about Grace at the ball two nights ago."

Jem frowned deeply, feeling anger and frustration bubble inside of him at the littleness of some people. Why did his sister offend them so?

"I really did not need to hear that," muttered Grace as she made her way to an empty chair before the desk, lowering her larger frame into it gently. As soon as she spoke, Adam left his chair and made his way to her, standing behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders protectively.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you dressed down the Marchioness of Highbury as soon as that unjustified comment was made, Mother," Adam theorised.

Jem recalled the first time he had heard Cecily verbally tear some of Grace's critics apart. Cecily could be vicious, and rightfully so.