Page 80 of A Torn Allegiance
“How did you know my precise thought?”
“It is only on very rare moments that I don’t feel I know your thoughts. I find we are much aligned.” His smile was easy, and she couldn’t tell if he was alluding to any particular moment or just simply commenting on how they were so much alike.
“Perhaps we can see if we are suited in other areas as well,” Elsie said.
“How so?”
“How aligned are our thoughts or perceptions of people? Take this party, for instance. We have already established that we both would rather be at the park, so let’s play a game to amuse ourselves. We pick a couple, and we guess what they are thinking or what we think they are really saying to each other.”
“Oh, this is interesting. I might like this. Who is our first couple?”
They turned so they might survey the room. “I’ve got one.” She turned to Hayes. “See the woman in the lavender?”
He followed the direction of her gaze. “Speaking to the man who looks as though he might never be comfortable with his height?”
She checked them again. “Yes, the man is hunched slightly, and his eyes are darting around.”
“Oh, his eyes aren’t darting around. They are darting in this direction. I would guess he’s wondering when he can possibly steal you away from me.” His smile grew. “That’s what I would be thinking.”
She smiled, enjoying every word, but tapped him on the shoulder. “What? Come, be serious. She is going on and on about her hair and her lady’s maid and then her gown and the trip to the modiste, and she will eventually get around to her mother’s tarts.”
“Tarts?”
“Certainly, because all dull conversations end at tarts.”
“I don’t believe a single one of our conversations has referenced tarts one time. But perhaps I am missing an opportunity. The English are much celebrated for their tarts.”
She shook her head and laughed. “Not at all. We can congratulate ourselves that we have not descended to tarts.”
“Or the state of the roads, if you recall. I’ve kept our rule.”
“You have! And I haven’t been tempted even one time to discuss the weather.”
“Oh, he’s speaking. What says he?”
“The music has started. Too easy.”
“But now they are not to dance. See? She is shaking her head. She has a mild case of some ailment in her foot, which prevents her from dancing, but truly, we know her thoughts. She doesn’t want to dance with him.”
“Why?” Elsie asked. “He seems a perfectly amiable fellow. Handsome, no?”
“True, he does on the outside, but there is the issue of how he is no longer speaking. If she must create and continue all conversation, then he must be tiring at best.”
“Perhaps that would explain why they speak of tarts.”
“Of course.”
The man bowed and left the woman by herself.
Another couple walked by, the man chattering almost as much as the previous lady had. Hayes nodded in their direction. “See, there? That’s almost as wrong. He is talking so much she might not be able to contribute at all.”
“She doesn’t look as if she wants to. Shall we guess at their conversation?”
“I think I can manage. He’s begging to take her for a ride in his phaeton tomorrow. He’s going over his horses, the color of the equipage, the beauty of the morning, the different details he’s asked his coachman to apply to make the ride have more spring. He’s even going so far as to promise her time in the shade... oh, and right now, he’s reminding her that there is room only for two.”
Elsie laughed. “She’s not saying anything, but she’s thinking about the second act toHamlet, and she’s wondering about Hamlet’s mother. Is she the feminine wonder that many have thought her to be, or is she instead the epitome of motherhood, as the new actress is portraying her?”
Hayes laughed out loud, enough so that others looked on with interest, and Elsie felt proud of her cleverness.
