The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters(34)

“I was until today,” she answered. But the way she'd said it, made it sound as though he were the reason she was reconsidering.

“I mean - I still am, but it was - the painting - a subject that I wasn't expecting,” she tried to explain. She quickly looked at Peggy to see if she were following the conversation and was happy to see that she was thoroughly occupied with her cake.

He laughed at her obvious discomfort, in spite of himself.

“We have all had moments that have been a shock because we have not been expecting them. As a young man, my worse moment came after I had asked a young lady to the theatre and she declined because of a cold. I went alone as I already had the loan of a box.

Imagine how I felt to see her in perfectly good health in the box opposite with another man. It wasn't so much the rejection that hurt as the fact that she had lied.”

“Oh, how humiliating that must have been,” Bathsheba sympathised.

“The humiliation was for the young woman, because she didn't expect to see me staring at her. She had supposed that I wouldn't go without her. During the interval she came with a woman friend to make some excuse but soon left when I said not a word of what I was thinking. In fact, I said not a word at all.”


Bathsheba had relaxed a little while listening to Alistair. She had been taught never to lie so felt somewhat outraged on Alistair's behalf. She too had experienced the untruths of certain suitors. For her, a life riddled with lies had no value. She looked at Alistair a little more discerningly.

Her cousin James was twenty-five, so she supposed that Alistair was about the same age, perhaps a little more. He had removed his hat in the tearoom so she was able to admire his head of thick brown hair. His jaw was square and freshly shaven. Dark brown eyebrows were well placed above hazel eyes. His teeth seemed to be good too. On the whole, he was a decent looking man.

All right, she was forced to admit, he's better than decent looking. But he is rather forward when it comes to society's rules.

She'd sipped her tea the time it had taken to examine him.

“Thank you, Mr. Hutton, for suggesting we take tea. It has comforted me. I am sure that I would be able to face any number of 'Exotic Rooms' now.”

Her dazzling smile left him speechless for a moment.

When she frowned, she looked positively daunting. The serious look she wore the rest of the time did not encourage conversation either. But, from their first meeting in the street, he had been drawn to her inexplicably, seriousness and all. Now, this smile actually seduced him. He was feeling much like the satyr in the picture. He was going to have to rein in his rampaging urges because this was indeed a na?ve young lady and if he wanted any chance with her, he would have to go slowly.

Bathsheba was a dark blond with blue eyes. Her figure was slim but shapely, which was not in the Rubenesque fashion of the day. Alistair was wary of those women who were well-endowed at an early age. They quite often finished by being overly endowed in later life. He liked to feel the solidness of a woman when he held her. He also related it to a solidness of character.

“Do you enjoy music, Miss Baxter?” It had occurred to him that they might share that pleasure.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Hutton. I am fortunate in that I have friends who often invite me to their musical soirées, some of which are of a very high standard. I have my mother to thank for introducing me to fine arts in all its forms. My father was an unpolished rock until he met her.”

“Do you play an instrument or sing? I have been known to sing on the odd occasion but I have had no training,” he informed her. He was pleased to have found a subject that encouraged her to reveal a little of herself.

“I play the pianoforte but I'm afraid my voice is not very strong, although I am told I sing well.”

“Perhaps I may have the good fortune of hearing you play and sing at some time?” he paused.

“I wonder... could I interest you in coming with me to a concert? You may know Mrs. Pemberton?” He saw her nod her head.

“Yes, I know her casually. Mrs. Pemberton was an acquaintance of Mama's. When Mama died, my father lost his connection with the family as he had no desire to socialize with Mama gone. I was too young at the time to entertain.”

“Well, Mrs. Pemberton is having a musical evening on the 21st of this month and I am invited. Would you do me the honour of accompanying me?”

This afternoon's outing had developed into much more than she had expected. Now she was in a quandary. Having tea with Mr. Hutton was one thing. Suddenly being asked to spend an evening with him entailed more. She didn't know him. He must be very sure of himself to ask her after such a short acquaintance.

“May I give you my answer tomorrow? I must see if there are commitments on our calendar. My father may already have other things planned, you understand.”

It was the best she could do to delay giving a reply. She would have time to think on it and possibly contact her Cousin James before committing one way or another. He could enlighten her about Mr. Hutton.

Alistair smiled softly. She was skittish and needed time to reflect. He was hopeful, however, because she had changed her mind about having tea with him, hadn't she? That was a good indication.

“Naturally, Miss Baxter. I admit that it was a rather spontaneous invitation prompted by our mutual like for music. I shall look forward to your response tomorrow.”