as not even sent them a single greeting.”
Harold gave Mrs. Hays an amiable .smile.
“The Lord is an excellent gentleman and a pleasure to serve,” he said, his voice replete with respect. “I can honestly say I have never served a finer master or one more generous. He is a singular man, prone to much study and very busy with the tasks of his estate.” This answer did not satisfy Mrs. Hays in the least.
“Is he a young man?” she inquired, sitting forward a little. “Some seem to think he is a widower or a very old man not to be seeking a wife. Every estate should have a lady to oversee it.” At this Harold smiled more broadly.
“My lord, while the most excellent of men, is, perhaps a trifle… fastidious,” he said, carefully. “Such high standards limit vastly the number of women which would suit him.” He let Mrs. Hays think about that for a moment before continuing. “He did serve in the army, madam. Some noblewoman may very well perceive him as being, shall we say, ‘rough around the edges’.”
“Well, that is unfortunate,” Mrs. Hays said. “But… not an impossible obstacle. Elizabeth is a very understanding and accommodating girl. You should suggest the Lord visit here, or send us an invitation to call on him.”
Ashamed of her mother’s forward suggestions, Elizabeth stood and hurriedly left the room; her face flaming, she kept walking until she was out of the house. Mrs. Hays did not appear to be upset in the least by her daughter’s abrupt exit, and opened her mouth to ask another question; she was interrupted by the entrance of her husband to the room.
“My dear, pray do not attempt to pry any more information out of Harold,” the General said, tersely. “I am certain he has duties to return to, which you are holding him from.”
Using this opportunity to escape, Harold stood to leave; giving a short bow, he walked out of the room and left the house with haste. Seeing Elizabeth standing by the front steps, he smiled and quickly handed her a small letter; without a word, he mounted his horse and left the property. Looking at the letter Elizabeth hid it away, smiling to herself. Finding her cloak, she made for the trail to the beach, to read her communication in private.
Back in the Hays’ parlor, Elizabeth’s mother stared frostily at her husband; he stood by the fireplace, looking at his reports with a careful eye. Softening her face, Mrs. Hays cleared her throat.
“My dear husband,” she began. “I know you want me to be happy.” The General glanced at her but did not answer. Mrs. Hays smiled, though it did not have mirth. “This dreadful place is killing me; my health suffered terribly until I called upon the noble ladies of the estates nearby and they invited me to return. I need like-minded society.”
“I am glad to hear you are feeling better,” her husband said, reading his reports; he felt a chill in the room and paused his reading to stoke the fire. His wife stood up, walking slowly and gracefully to stand opposite her husband.
“In order to be accepted into their set, I must find out information on the Lord of the Stone Mountain!” she stated, the last vestige of her smile dwindling away. “These women are well-connected, Octavian... they have impressed upon me that if I can find out anything, being on his land as we are, we are back on the road into high society! Think about it, parties and balls and dinners again…” Her aging face took on a dreamy expression. “This lord, that you think so highly of, is a great mystery. No one has seen the man, nor heard much of him since he purchased the estate. The ladies are wild to know any little thing about him. Why else would I stoop to conversing with our former servant, of all things.” She bristled at thought.
The General rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and continued reading his report, ignoring her. Mrs. Hays walked in an agitated circle, seeing he was going to be of no help. She could see Harold knew
Harold gave Mrs. Hays an amiable .smile.
“The Lord is an excellent gentleman and a pleasure to serve,” he said, his voice replete with respect. “I can honestly say I have never served a finer master or one more generous. He is a singular man, prone to much study and very busy with the tasks of his estate.” This answer did not satisfy Mrs. Hays in the least.
“Is he a young man?” she inquired, sitting forward a little. “Some seem to think he is a widower or a very old man not to be seeking a wife. Every estate should have a lady to oversee it.” At this Harold smiled more broadly.
“My lord, while the most excellent of men, is, perhaps a trifle… fastidious,” he said, carefully. “Such high standards limit vastly the number of women which would suit him.” He let Mrs. Hays think about that for a moment before continuing. “He did serve in the army, madam. Some noblewoman may very well perceive him as being, shall we say, ‘rough around the edges’.”
“Well, that is unfortunate,” Mrs. Hays said. “But… not an impossible obstacle. Elizabeth is a very understanding and accommodating girl. You should suggest the Lord visit here, or send us an invitation to call on him.”
Ashamed of her mother’s forward suggestions, Elizabeth stood and hurriedly left the room; her face flaming, she kept walking until she was out of the house. Mrs. Hays did not appear to be upset in the least by her daughter’s abrupt exit, and opened her mouth to ask another question; she was interrupted by the entrance of her husband to the room.
“My dear, pray do not attempt to pry any more information out of Harold,” the General said, tersely. “I am certain he has duties to return to, which you are holding him from.”
Using this opportunity to escape, Harold stood to leave; giving a short bow, he walked out of the room and left the house with haste. Seeing Elizabeth standing by the front steps, he smiled and quickly handed her a small letter; without a word, he mounted his horse and left the property. Looking at the letter Elizabeth hid it away, smiling to herself. Finding her cloak, she made for the trail to the beach, to read her communication in private.
Back in the Hays’ parlor, Elizabeth’s mother stared frostily at her husband; he stood by the fireplace, looking at his reports with a careful eye. Softening her face, Mrs. Hays cleared her throat.
“My dear husband,” she began. “I know you want me to be happy.” The General glanced at her but did not answer. Mrs. Hays smiled, though it did not have mirth. “This dreadful place is killing me; my health suffered terribly until I called upon the noble ladies of the estates nearby and they invited me to return. I need like-minded society.”
“I am glad to hear you are feeling better,” her husband said, reading his reports; he felt a chill in the room and paused his reading to stoke the fire. His wife stood up, walking slowly and gracefully to stand opposite her husband.
“In order to be accepted into their set, I must find out information on the Lord of the Stone Mountain!” she stated, the last vestige of her smile dwindling away. “These women are well-connected, Octavian... they have impressed upon me that if I can find out anything, being on his land as we are, we are back on the road into high society! Think about it, parties and balls and dinners again…” Her aging face took on a dreamy expression. “This lord, that you think so highly of, is a great mystery. No one has seen the man, nor heard much of him since he purchased the estate. The ladies are wild to know any little thing about him. Why else would I stoop to conversing with our former servant, of all things.” She bristled at thought.
The General rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and continued reading his report, ignoring her. Mrs. Hays walked in an agitated circle, seeing he was going to be of no help. She could see Harold knew
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