The Adopted Debutante

Morning Company

Now, some might consider it rather harsh of Sir Carroll to place a barrier between Faulke and Eloise. However, those closer to the elder gentlemen understood that Sir Carroll did have cause to wonder about Faulke. The man was a strange fellow indeed. His enigmatic personality made him a puzzle to most circles of society, but his ample share of charisma and charm which made him a hard man to refuse—or know.

As Faulke left the Manor, his mind also was recalling the incident of the previous week. He walked quickly down the path, hands thrust into his pockets and eyes cast down. Nearing the end of the walk, he suddenly heard his name called.

Looking up, his face set into an emotionless expression. 

"Peter Bylious," he nodded to a burly fellow in his mid thirties. 

After his stiff greeting, he cast a wry smile at Bylious' companion, who was a little older, with a slightly shorter and noticeably thinner build. 

"Austin Flintworth...you must have earned your canonization by now."

"Mr. Faulke, good day, sir," Flintworth bowed, tipping his hat.

"What were you doing there?" Bylious demanded.

"None of your concern," Faulke replied, making to continue.

Bylious grasped him by the arm. "You'll tell me now—"

"Take care, sir," Flintworth said in an urgent tone.

"You've got a rat's eye on her, I know it," Bylious went on. "If you make another—"

"Bylious, you gave your word to Sir Carroll!" Flintworth interrupted. "Your word of honor. Come now, we'll be late to meet him."

Drawing in his breath, Bylious gave a hard stare at Faulke.

"Let me just say that—that if you come between her happiness—I'll ruin you." 

He roughly released Faulke's arm. Brushing the dust from his sleeve, Faulke stepped a few paces farther, before pausing and turning back.

"Let me say," he replied coolly, "that you are welcome to frighten others with your wild antics, but they will not have the same effect upon me."

Bylious would have answered this response with more than just words, but Flintworth grasped his arm firmly with both his own.

"Enough—you mustn't!" he said as he struggled to hold the strong man back. "He said it—on purpose—to provoke you! Oh, come now, please!"

The attack passed when Faulke disappeared from view, but it was a minute or so before Bylious regained his composure.

"I'll ruin him if he dares," he said.

"He won't," Flintworth assured him. "Miss Trellis has too many who love and care for her to let her be seduced by such a man as that."

"The thought of that sweet innocent beauty being taken in by a man who doesn't deserve a girl half as good as she is—it's enough to—"

"Yes, yes, but you've already gotten it out of your system, sir," Flintworth reminded him. "Let's set our mind to other things." 

They'd reached the house by this point and he rang the bell, "Such as the 'sweet innocent beauty' who will be our hostess."

"Who is in the parlor waiting for you, gentlemen," Leeds, the butler, said as he opened the door. Flintworth blushed and stepped back to let Bylious pass first. As Leeds took their hats, he cast a scrutinizing glance on Flintworth, who returned the look passively and hurried by.

Upon entering the parlor, they were warmly welcomed by Eloise and not quite as warmly acknowledged by Libby. She was still recovering from Faulke's intrusion that morning. Furthermore, the maid had no taste for Bylious' temper and less taste for Flintworth's wardrobe. Still she nodded politely in return to their greetings.

"How wonderful that you could come!" Eloise said happily. "Uncle's planning a hunt for this afternoon, Mr. Bylious, and I know Jeremy greatly enjoys your company, Mr. Flintworth."

"Blast me if I didn't bring my shotgun," Bylious cried, clapping his hand against his forehead. Flintworth offered to return and retrieve it, but Eloise assured them that Sir Carroll had firearms in abundance and he surely would allow Bylious to borrow one. At this moment, Polly entered carrying a tray of refreshments.

"Ho, what a pretty sight she strikes!" Bylious laughed as Polly set the tray down. "You'll be losing her to Leeds, I'll be bound; or maybe Flintworth here would care to sweep her off her feet."

"I dare say that's none of your concern, sir," Libby checked him.

"Which would you care for, my pretty?" Bylious addressed himself to Polly, who alternated between shaking and blushing.

"I—I don't think I'd care for Leeds, sir," she stammered, looking hesitantly at Flintworth. Flintworth tried to give her a sign that it was quite alright if she didn't care for him either, but Bylious turned to him.

"Ha! Then you've your bride, Flintworth! A maid's not bad for a gentleman's lackey."

Eloise gasped, feeling the insult keenly for both Austin and Polly, the latter of whom looked mortified and miserable. Dismissing Polly, Eloise endeavored to turn the conversation to other topics, but Bylious had not yet enjoyed the full of his joke.

"When will you propose to her, Flintworth? I really think you should."

"I think I should do nothing of the sort, sir." Flintworth quietly. "You may tread on my honor, sir, but I will not be the reason you insult the honor of a hardworking young lady."

"She's a scullery maid, not a lady." Bylious laughed.

"She's a member of my household, Mr. Bylious." Eloise intervened. "Don't make sport of her in such a way again, or I will be speaking to Sir Carroll about it."

Her firmness came unexpected and had the desired effect. Bylious grew more subdued and reached for the refreshments Polly had left.

"It was only in jest," he mumbled.

"How selflessly kind of you to supply our amusement, but we are not much disposed for humor this morning," Libby said stiffly.

"As per usual," Bylious continued in his low tone.

Flintworth, who had suffered most of this in silence, cleared his throat significantly. The door to the parlor opened.

"Mister Delend is here, Miss Eloise," Leeds announced, as he stepped into the parlor. Behind him entered a young man not quite past twenty.

Eloise' eyes lit up with happy delight as she rose to greet him. The air of tension was dispelled and even Libby's drawn lips curled into a faint smile.

"Oh, Jeremy, I almost wondered if you would come," Eloise said, as she extended her hand.

"When would I ever not come for you, my love?" Jeremy replied, as he placed a tender kiss on her hand. Leeds slipped out and closed the door behind him.

"Well now, this does cheer the heart," Bylious said in approval as Eloise returned to her seat. "Love is good for the young folk, I say. Teaches them generosity, harmony."

"Yes, sir, I do find love rather refreshing," Jeremy agreed, as he sat in a chair near  Eloise. "Perhaps you might find it a pleasant diversion yourself."

"Ho, would that I could, but who would have me?" Bylious said, smiling at Flintworth.

"A true angel, sir," Flintworth smiled back.

Libby groaned, "A saint." 

"I don't believe such girls are rare," Eloise said. "There are many more of them than the papers would tell us."

"I think you mean 'Mrs. Anandale' would tell us," Jeremy smiled. 

Mrs. Charlotte Newson Anandale was a notorious columnist for the gossip gazette. 

"Who would have thought Dr. Newson could have such a talkative sister?"

"It can happen that way in families," Flintworth said. "I'm far more talkative than my older sister."

An unmistakable silence followed this statement. Flintworth was beginning to wonder why all eyes were turned to him in undisguised wonder, but then Jeremy smiled.

"I am truly glad angelic young ladies are not rare," he said as he turned to Eloise. "I shall soon, I hope, be united to one."

A glow appeared over Eloise' face and she smiled with delight.

"Why, my dear Eloise, you look as if you've been touched by the sun," All turned to behold Sir Carroll standing by the door, smiling.

"Oh, Uncle Carroll, I have," Eloise said as she rose and went to his side.

"She has indeed," Libby concurred quietly. 

Surprised, Jeremy glanced behind to see if he'd heard correctly and found Libby flash a smile of approval in his direction before her visage returned to its normal sternness. Still confused, Jeremy settled back in his chair and noticed Flintworth nod a grin of encouragement to him. 

In Flintworth's mind (and those of a few others who knew the Trellis household), if Jeremy had Libby's consent to his marriage to Eloise, his marital happiness was sure to be complete.

Bylious pulled himself to his feet. "I hear you've a mind to hunt this afternoon, Carroll." 

"Ah yes, the hunt," Sir Carroll agreed. "Leeds is preparing our rifles now. Care to join us, my boy?" He asked Jeremy, but Jeremy shook his head politely.

"I'm afraid I'm not a very good shot," He said.

"Pshaw, you said the same the last two times," Bylious scoffed.

"And I haven't improved since then," Jeremy smiled.

"Ah, don't be a woman's man. I'll teach you the ways of the hunt yet," Bylious goaded.

"Yes, you will; but not today, thank you, sir," Jeremy replied.

"Come along, Peter; three would be too many for us in any case," Sir Carroll told him.

"Oh, you don't want Flintworth here along either?" Bylious asked. 

Flintworth said he might watch them at their sport if they would have him. So it was agreed and the three men departed. Leeds produced the rifles and retrieved the hunters' coats and hats.

Bylious and Sir Carroll took their things and left, bent on the chase. As he gave Flintworth his hat, Leeds murmured, "You're a gentleman indeed to suffer Bylious when you could be given a moment from him."

"Oh, the ride will be good for me," Flintworth shrugged casually.

"Mmm, and quite convenient for the lovers as well," added the butler significantly.

"I'm happy for her," Flintworth said. "She deserves a man like Mister Delend: honest, kind, certainly devoted to her. She needs a man like that after the terrible accident that killed her family." He sighed. "How hard it must have been to find a new grandfather then lose him and her loved ones all in one day."

"It certainly was a strange situation." Leeds recalled. "After all, Mr. Trellis was adopting her father, and that when her father was quite grown with a wife and two children. Frankly, I'm surprised she changed her last name after her father and Mr. Trellis died—but you'll be late to join the others, Flintworth."

Agreeing, Flintworth shouldered his coat, mounted the steed he was to ride, and fell into a quick trot to catch up with the hunters. As he watched the older man leave, Leeds pondered thoughtfully.

"Honest...kind...certainly devoted to her," he murmured, following Flintworth with his eyes, "...hmm."

With that, he closed the front door.