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It brightened Elmore's already chipper mood, to see such an impressive turnout; and people were still joining. When he cleared his throat, everybody silenced and turned with rapt attention.

"Good afternoon," Elmore said, and his voice carried across the room. It was echoing but clear, so that even those wandering past could hear. "You must all be here for our presentation on poisonous plants, yes? I'm happy to be presenting this today, but first I would like to give credit to the two with me today."

He gestured to Mr. Washam and Aurora, who sat just to the side. While Mr. Washam smiled brightly, Aurora had an air of nerves about her. Funny, she had seemed at ease earlier.

"While this is collaboration between the three of us, we have Miss Washam here to thank for today. You see, it was my initial notes that sparked this idea, Miss Washam was the one to pull it all together. So, you have her to thank for this presentation, and for our project as a whole."

He had Aurora to thank for a whole lot more besides; she had always been the fundamental core of this project and everything it included. He needed the audience to know that; neededherto know that too.

"Now, let's begin. As you know, this is a fundraising event for our project, which discusses and experiments with the use of poisonous plants in new medicine. Our first plant, the angel's trumpet, is known for being highly poisonous; to the point that consumption can cause death."

A murmur rose up through the crowd, and Elmore felt his chest jump. This is what he wanted — a hook to reel them in.

"Now, in smaller doses — highly diluted of course — it has been known to alleviate joint pain in the elderly, as well as aid in good circulation and help with other chronic, painful symptoms. Our plan is to take these plants and breed them, over time, to cultivate these beneficial properties into a new strain of angel's trumpet."

He didn't mean to watch Aurora, but he saw her shift from the corner of his eyes. She had her lips caught between her teeth as she looked across the crowed, somewhere between nerves and excitement.

She finally appeared happy with what he was doing; or at the very leastcontent.He wasn't about to pass on the opportunity to finally impress Aurora.

To the crowd, he announced, "The angel's trumpet is a dangerous plant; but with my knowledge, Mr. Washam's expertise and Miss Washam's bright mind for ideas, I believe that we can create something new and beautiful. Something that can help many. And, if we're lucky, this will only be the beginning of a project that will spanyears."

Another murmur ran through the crowd. At the wide archway entrance, more people were peeking in. Elmore didn't recognize any of their faces, but he didn't need to; they were interested parties who might like to help, so what else mattered?

"Now, I have a request of you all; this is a lengthy and expensive project. While it is backed by the Duke of Stonehull himself, he can only do so much. My colleagues and I must accept the responsibility ourselves. If you are interested in our project, and would like to help us, please speak to us at the end of the presentation."

He continued on for a little more, talking about the benefits of angel's trumpet and other plants. He even showed some of the drawing from his book, earning a few impressed gasps from those that were close enough to see.

Then, he passed the focus on to Aurora. She said a short piece about the importance of a greenhouse, and how these exotic plants needed warmth and humidity to flourish. The entire time, she had a soft smile on her lips that made Elmore unable to look away.

The presentation came to an end when Mr Washam thanked everybody for coming. One by one, people began to filter back into the main hall, murmuring and chatting as they went.

Elmore stood by the window with his heart in his throat, as guests continued to vanish. Nobody had approached them with interest, and he knew that the entry donations were not nearly enough. It wasn't even enough to buy them the new garden equipment.

Finally, when the room was almost empty, an older man with dark hair approached. He had a stern look about him, with a furrowed brow lowered over a stiff monocle.

"Good afternoon," Elmore said kindly, "can we help you?"

"Baron Leanord Foley," he introduced briskly, "and you must be Lord Winters. I must say that your presentation was most impressive, I was intrigued from the moment I walked in."

Mr. Washam and Aurora had been talking by the corner, but now they perked to attention. Aurora wandered over, her eyes bright with excitement.

"I'd be interested in donating to your project," Lord Foley said. His eyes drifted to Aurora as she approached, but he offered no second introduction. "It interests me, and I think it could be helpful in the future. You and Mr. Washam sound like men who know what they're doing."

Aurora's lips parted to cut in, but Elmore got there first. "Miss Washam is a core part of our project too. This is something that all three of us care about deeply."

He frowned. "Ah, of course. Apologies. I must rush off, but I would like to invite you to my ball to discuss the details further; expect an invitation by the end of the week."

Lord Foley strode off, head held high as he walked. He had the attitude of a man who thought he was better than the rest, as if by offering his money he was somehow owed something.

No sooner was he gone, when Aurora let out an audible sigh. She pressed a hand to her temple and winced, as if in physical pain.

"What an odd man," she murmured, "but if he's willing to back our project, I'll take odd."

Elmore nodded in agreement. "My thoughts exactly."

He expected Aurora to leave now that Lord Foley was gone, but she remained in front of him. She was picking nervously at the hem of her sleeve, which was a pretty dark yellow and white.

"I wanted to speak to you, actually," she muttered, "to say thank you. When you spoke about our project with obvious appreciation, and you did it exactly how I would have. More than that, you gave me credit at the beginning.Explicitcredit."


Tags: Abby Ayles Historical