Page 10 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor's Destiny
"Peter!" Maude scolded, scoffing his ear. "You can't barge into the Mistress' room like this."
"I'm sorry." He wailed.
"It's alright, Maude. I told him to." I handed the boy a penny for his efforts and the ear-scoffing he had suffered on my accord, then I took a deep breath— or attempted to, the corset was so tight, it made it nearly impossible. I smoothed my skirt, twirled my ring, and nodded at Maude and Sophie that I was ready. They scurried to adjust my dress's short train, and with my head held up high, I descended the stairs in perfect timing with Eric, the butler, who opened the door before the Earl could even knock.
His annoyed countenance changed when he spied me coming down the stairs. His eyes widened in appreciation just as I had hoped they would. I forced myself to keep my shoulders straight—it was nearly impossible not to, the corset made sure of it—and my head held up high. One hand glid over the banister to keep me anchored as to not fall down the stairs, which would have been inexcusable right then.
"Mistress Wellington?" The Earl stepped forward, lifting his hand in expectancy of me making it the last couple of steps down successfully.
"My Lord Ashford." Elegantly, I managed the last step, smoothed my hand from the banister into the Earl's, and fell into a curtsey just like Miss Prudence had taught me over the last few days. Suddenly, I was eternally grateful for her guidance.
"Thomas, please. We are engaged," he offered, bending over to kiss my hand.
"Thomas." I suppressed a giggle as his lips pressed against my skin. He was clean-shaven and smelled like he had just taken a bath.
He was taller than me but of slim build—I found large men intimidating. He was dressed impeccably, befitting his status.
His blonde hair was kept short and neatly brushed back. Small ends curled at the back of his neck above his collar. His sideburns were thick and fashionable, and his light blue eyes shone with an above average intelligence. Yes, I thought, for a husband, I could have done a lot worse than him, and that didn't even include the title he brought with him.
"May I call you Roweena?" He asked, ever so slowly letting go of my hand.
My heart beat a little faster as I nodded my consent, keeping my eyes lowered. I didn't want him to think I was too forward.
"Shall we?" He offered me his angled elbow, and I lightly put my hand on it. His eyes fell on my ring and lingered, but he didn't say anything until we sat in his luxurious carriage.
"That is an interesting piece of jewelry, Roweena," he observed.
Reluctantly, I moved the ring off my finger, feeling strangely bereft after doing so, and handed it to him for closer examination.
"Is this Egyptian?" He tilted the piece of jewelry this way and that to catch a faint glow of light on it.
"It is," I confirmed, then lied. "I bought it from a jeweler here in London. He has many exclusive, ancient pieces for sale." Well, kind of lied. Ihadbought jewelry from Aman before, just not this particular object.
Thomas seemed as reluctant to return it to me as I had been to hand it to him. My finger seemed to sigh when I slipped it back in place.
"I would very much like to visit that jeweler," Thomas said.
"Are you interested in Egyptian artifacts?" Did I dare hope? My heart did, as it sped up a little more.
"Anything ancient, yes, but particularly anything Egyptian." He admitted. "I might bore you with details if you encourage me too much."
I smiled, "You would never bore me with that. Egypt has been fascinating to me since I was a little girl."
"Is that so?" he looked interested, but there was a gleam in his eyes I didn't quite like. It reminded me of... something. A cold draft moved through the carriage, and a shiver ran down my spine.
I folded my hands in my lap and looked down. I couldn't explain what had just happened, but I needed to get over it quickly. Things had gone so well so far, and I didn't want to spoil it.
I pulled up my courage and said, "You might think me forward, but there is a mummy unwrapping event tomorrow at Piccadilly, the Great Belzoni?—"
"Roweena?" I liked the way he called my name, but I worried I had been too forward and he would chastise me.
"Yes?" I still didn't look up.
There was a chuckle in his voice when he asked, "Would you like to accompany me tomorrow to a mummy unwrapping event at Piccadilly? I heard the Great Belzoni is personally doing the honors."
I couldn't help it. I looked up and smiled. "I would love to."
"Can I see your dance card?" he suddenly inquired, right before the carriage slowed down, indicating we had reached Carlton House—where the ball was being held—and our carriage was in queue with others, waiting to enter the royal house.
