“What is it?” he prompted gently.
“The fan,” she confessed, waving the thing as if it was odious.
Still confused, he pointed out, “I did not say anything disparaging about the fan.” He hesitated. “I think it’s quite pretty.”
“It’s not about the prettiness of the fan,” she retorted.
“Oh,” he replied. “Then what is it? I assumed you were waving it before your face so vigorously because you were warm or felt unwell.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was waving it vigorously because I thought that’s what one does with a fan. I had read that to look captivating, one should wave a fan in front of their face.”
He gaped at her. “You’re attempting to look captivating?”
“Yes,” she groaned, a look of embarrassed indignation crossing her features. “I shouldn’t have attempted it withyou. You are absolutely and obviously the wrong person to attempt to captivate. It was very foolish to me. Please forgive me. I won’t attempt it again. Giggling felt absolutely absurd,” she said, scowling.
“If I’m honest,” he said, “your giggle did sound quite strange. It doesn’t suit you. I’ve heard you laugh before,” he said, “a full, bold, beautiful sound. You should stick to that.”
She let out a noise of irritation. “I am a terrible student,” she said.
“I cannot believe that,” he countered, tracing his gaze over her features, which were touched by shadow. “From the way you read, you must be an excellent student.”
“Well,” she countered, “I am reading something now, and I do not seem to be able to take the effect of its instructions.”
“What are you reading?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
“I’m not going to tell you,” she said firmly, looking to the shrubbery. “It’s none of your affair. But I had rather thought that I would be able to implement the instructions in it at least to some degree, but it appears that I cannot,” she said with a surprising degree of woe.
“How very frustrating for you,” he said, attempting to understand but feeling completely lost.
Her eyes were so alight with feeling, and her stance was almost defiant in her frustration. He loved it. He loved seeing her so full of life, but he hated seeing that she was disappointed in herself.
“Whatever instruction you are attempting to take, abandon it,” he encouraged. “You are lovely in yourself, and you need not learn how to flutter a fan. Fluttering fans are for those with little intelligence, and you have a great deal.”
“I’ve always thought fluttering fans was foolish,” she agreed. “But the book said that if I fluttered my fan, a gentleman would find it intriguing, and instead I simply looked overheated. It is clearly my fault, not the book’s. After all, I am a confirmed wallflower.”
“I don’t know,” he said softly. “Perhaps the book is attempting to instruct you in the usual ways of gaining a man’s attention,” he said, “but you are not ausualyoung lady. Therefore, you should not attempt to be what you are not.”
“Iama wallflower, my lord,” she gritted. “There is no arguing that.”
He frowned, wishing with all his heart that he could offer her comfort and repair whatever was saddening her. Lies wouldn’t work, of that he was certain. “It’s true. You are,” he said.
“Confess it,” she said firmly, her chin jutting out. “You have never taken note of me. Not as anything but an ornament upon the wall, or a clothes horse collecting cloaks, or as a figure in the room, like a chair.”
Her flurry of words were so self-disparaging that it took him aback. “That is not true. I’ve always known you as Edmund’s sister.”
“Yes, but you’ve never taken any particular interest in me until today, until I found that book,” she rushed. “And well—”
“Is that what you were hiding in your skirts today?” he queried. “I was wondering what it was. I thought you had found a scandalous novel that your parents would not allow you to read.”
She let out another long sigh, as if he was the most troublesome fellow in the world. “It is a scandalous book in a way,” she admitted. “But not in the way you might think.”
“You have me at a loss. I have no idea what you mean,” he said honestly, wishing to help her but unsure how.
She looked away and murmured, “It is an instructional manual on how to not be a wallflower.”
“How to not be a—”
“Yes,” she cut in quickly. “And I hate the fact that I’m confessing it to you now because it seems like I am entirely giving up my attempt. But perhaps you’d be able to help me interpret it more carefully because you do know how ladies are supposed to behave when attempting to captivate a man.”