With all of your admirable characteristics, I did not stop to imagine that my words, my opinions would have an influence on you. Your confidence and self–assuredness blinded my ability to consider that my words could be and were hurtful. If I have not made it clear enough, let me do so now — I am an utter oaf. My comments had naught to do with your ability to discern a good husband based on merit but rather my inability to socialize with a marvelous lady and not put my foot in my mouth. I have no doubt you will make whoever is honored with your hand in marriage a very fortunate man. You have many qualities beyond being the Diamond to offer any home.
Once more, I must beg for your forgiveness.
Your servant,
B.C.
* * *
“A letter? So soon?” Delilah was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she shuffled into the dining room, commenting on the folded paper still in Felicity’s hand.
When Felicity had entered the room this morning, she found herself still in a fog from the night before. Her mother had insisted on staying for the event’s entirety, passing Felicity off to any suitor who approached for a dance. By the end of the night, Felicity’s feet screamed for relief. She had almost limped to the carriage. After her encounter on the veranda, the rest of the ball felt uneventful. She had not waited for her maid to help her undress before collapsing into bed. Felicity had merely slipped out of the layers she could reach and ignored the ones she couldn’t, winding up under the covers still half dressed.
She had woken stiff and sore with a tangled mess on top of her head. It had taken Ruth, her maid, an extra ten minutes to brush out the knots in her hair. While she normally spent the time it took to get dressed talking with Ruth, she had been too tired to come up with much to say. But Ruth knew her better than anyone after serving the family for a decade. Felicity thought of Ruth as a friend more than anything else, and her friend had not needed to be told of Felicity’s need for silence.
She had been grateful for the solitude when Felicity found the dining room empty. Her father had already broken his fast and was locked in his study, probably nose deep in a novel. Her mother never rose early enough to join them for breakfast, normally taking a tray in her room, and Delilah was not much of a morning person either. Felicity had just finished buttering her toast when Ruth came in with a coy smile and a letter.
“Is that a letter for my father or another invitation for my mother?” Felicity had asked, breaking the silence.
“Neither. It is for you.”
“For me?” Felicity had not believed her until she twisted in her chair to take the outstretched envelope and read the sender’s name.
“It is from a man called ‘Benjamin’ — is he a new suitor you didn’t tell me about?” Ruth had done nothing to hide her excitement.
“I do not think he is a suitor. We met last night, but I must admit, I left him rather rudely. I was not expecting anything from him.”
“I will give you some privacy to read it. I look forward to hearing about it later,” Ruth had told her before backing out of the room.
Felicity had held the note in her hand for several minutes, taking in his clear handwriting, trying to prepare for whatever the note might say. She had just finished reading and rereading the note when Delilah had joined her at the table.
“Did something happen last night that you are not telling me about?” concern filled Delilah’s question.
“It appears so although I do not know what to make of it.”
Felicity sighed, taking a moment to chew on her toast before beginning her tale.
“Do you recall when I excused myself after my dance with the first man Lady Eunice introduced us to?”
“I do. He spun you far too much during your dance. You were green by the time it was over with.”
“I have to agree; it was not a pleasant experience. In truth, it was not the twirling that upset me but rather the idea of being married to a man like him.”
“Was he really that bad, sister?” Delilah placed her hand on top of Felicity’s, gripping it with affection.
“No, not really. I mean, he did nothing but talk about himself the entire time, but he was kind enough, I suppose.”
“But you deserve more than ‘good enough,’” Delilah added, having had this conversation with Felicity on more than one occasion.
Felicity nodded guiltily. She knew this was no more her sister’s fault than her own. They were both at the mercy of their parents’ mistakes.
“Yes, well, after the dance, I needed a moment to myself. I went off in search of the closest place I could find, so I could calm myself.”
Delilah nodded with understanding.
“I wound up on the veranda, looking for a bench to sit on, so I could catch my breath when I bumped into a gentleman.”
Felicity spent the next several minutes recounting her conversation with the man. She did not include how handsome he was or how much he aided in soothing her. For some reason, Felicity wanted to keep those details to herself. By the time Felicity had finished replaying the conversation, Delilah was just as upset as she had been.