Faces of the Wind

Chapter 12

Mrs. Lilley Dalton enjoyed the company of her two nieces in the drawing room, with Arden reading a comedy piece she'd written and Dorothy playing with her long, dark braid as she drifted away into her rosy world. Lilley was most attentive, though, laughing heartily at almost every line her niece read.

There was a soft knock on the door and a footman announced Mr. Blackford. Lilley smiled and pinched her cheeks a couple of times before she said, "Please, let him in." She sat in an upright position as if there were a china cup on her head.

When she saw the young man at the door, her eager expression was replaced by a disheartened one and her posture slightly relaxed.

Adrian took his long hat off and ruffle his black curls, which were now long enough to reach his brows. "I hope I'm not interrupting the lovely ladies' morning," he said.

The young ladies rose to their feet and curtsied while their aunt leaned back and luxuriated on her fancy sofa, studying the young man.

"What a lovely surprise, Adrian," Arden said, suppressing a giggle.

Adrian nodded at her. "A lovely surprise it is, indeed," he replied, flashing her a smirk that made the fox inside him shine through his crafty stare. He took off his tweed tight-fitting frock coat, presenting an embroidered burgundy waistcoat underneath, and handed it, along with the hat, to the footman standing behind him.

"I believe it is quite cold outside," Dorothy said, her voice fruity and jolly as she played the role of the perfect, conventional young lady with enough experience is small talk, "and the roads must be very wet after last night's drizzle." She smiled softly.

Adrian couldn't bring himself to receive her phony attitude with a smile, so he forced a grin that could be mistaken for a slight grimace. He then walked to Lilly's sofa, knelt in front of her, took her hand and gently kissed it.

"Adrian Blackford," he said, looking at her through lustrous dark-reddish-brown eyes, "at your service, Mrs. Dalton." He smiled, "Every young lady in this room pales in your presence."

Arden looked at her sister and screwed up her face. Dorothy suppressed a giggle.

Lilley sucked her teeth and shot him a patronizing look that burnt the words "little rascal" onto his forehead. "How very thoughtful of you to introduce yourself! I have nearly forgotten Jeffrey had a second child," she said in a combination of sarcasm and reproof.

He stood up and asked in a self-assured, boyish tone, "Will you not invite me to sit?"

She motioned for him to sit, and so he and the Thunderton sisters did.

"Last time you visited, you set my golden velvet drapes on fire," she stroked her round chin and knit her brows. "How old were you then? Ten?"

"Nine," he corrected her then grinned proudly before he added, "and quite talented at starting fires."

The lady stared a while at him, making the soft sofa under his rear feel like a hot stove. He tried to maintain his composure and his grin, but his lips began to twitch. His thumb scratched the sofa's arm relentlessly until Lilley finally smiled so broadly, relieving him of his misery.

"Why, look at you!" She said in a tone so merry and motherly, "You've grown into a handsome young man—still not as handsome as your pa, I must say. Oh, and your pa says you're an artist; I can see that from your lovely outfit."

Adrian's wide grin changed into a soft smile. "My father said that?" He asked in an undertone.

"Is your pa in town?" She asked.

"No, ma'am," he replied, "I'm alone... doing business."

"So I predicted, or else he would have called on me," she said, "I knew he would not attend last night's ball—"