Intentions of the Earl (9 page)

When they finally made it to the parlor,
Andrew abruptly stopped and blinked. Never in his life had he seen
such a small dining table. It could not have been more than six,
maybe seven, feet long and it had only six chairs. Even when eating
by himself, he had never eaten at such a small table. How were they
all going to fit? There wasn’t a need for more chairs precisely,
there were six chairs and six people, but they were
so
close
together. There was no way it was going to be a comfortable meal
with everyone practically touching each other, or would it, he
thought with a sly smile.

Brooke stumbled slightly because of Andrew’s
sudden stop. She cocked her head and looked from him to the dining
table, as if she were trying to understand what had brought on his
reaction. She must have realized that it was the size of the table
and how closely they were to be seated because she said, “Unless
you want to look at mounted squirrels, opossums, and other wild
game while eating, you’ll have to get over your discomfort.”

Andrew turned to look at Brooke and arched
one eyebrow in hopes that she would elaborate as to why he’d have
to look at such images while eating if he did not get over his
discomfort as she put it. But before Brooke could explain, her
mother started talking. “Isn’t our dining room quaint?” Mrs. Banks
studied his face, almost as if she were trying to read his response
rather than listen to it.

“Quite,” he replied, forgetting about the
animals and wondering how everyone was going to gather around this
little table. For pity’s sake, the seats were so close together, it
looked as though all the silverware was running together. How was
one to be able to tell which pieces were theirs and which belonged
to their neighbor?

Mrs. Banks gave a hesitant smile. “I know
this may seem a little irregular for you. However, we are a cozy
little family, and we enjoy eating close together when possible. It
makes it easier to be able to all engage in the same conversation,”
she said with false bravado.

Silently everybody took their seats. Mr.
Banks was at one end of the table, with Mrs. Banks seated at the
other end. Brooke’s sisters sat together on one side of the table,
and he and Brooke occupied the other.

Once they were all seated, and had said grace
of course, they began to eat one of the most delicious and filling
meals Andrew had eaten in more than a year. Being impoverished had
changed his eating habits considerably; but for tonight, he was
going to eat as if he were one of the richest in the land.

“How was your visit to the country today, my
dear?” Carolina asked her husband.

John answered his wife back by telling her
all about his visit and about how the two of them had exchanged
sermon ideas.

The conversation turned to the errands that
they would run on the morrow. Andrew just nodded occasionally and
said yes or no here and there. He was more interested in thinking
of how fetching Brooke looked in that gown than in what they were
talking about.

He was lost in his own thoughts when all the
sudden he heard the name Madison. At first he paid no mind to what
was being said about this Madison person, then the name was
repeated. That got Andrew’s full attention. He was quite certain
that the butler’s name was Turner. No footmen were in the room at
the time, so he was sure they weren’t speaking to one of them. What
importance was the name Madison, he wondered. Andrew tried to rack
his brain; then he decided if he were paying closer attention, he
would know who this Madison person was. Thus, he decided he should
probably start paying better attention to the conversation.

“Why do we all need to go to the modiste at
the same time?” Liberty asked, the annoyance in her voice matching
the expression on her face. “They only allow us one seamstress; it
becomes dreadfully boring waiting for my turn.”

“You could bring something to work on while
waiting,” Mr. Banks suggested.

“Perhaps a book,” Spacey said helpfully, a
teasing gleam in her eye.

Liberty ignored her suggestion, and looked
only at her father. “What do we need new gowns for anyway, are we
not planning to go back home soon?”

“What else would you have to do with your day
if not spending it with us down on Bond Street?” Brooke asked with
a hint of aggravation in her voice.

“Girls,” their father broke in, “there is no
need to quarrel. Liberty, you will join your mother, Brooke and
Madison tomorrow to have new gowns made up. You will need them for
balls, soirees and such. I should think we will be here at least
another six months.”

The females at the table went silent. Andrew
assumed they were thinking of what Mr. Banks had said about staying
for at least six more months and all the events they would likely
attend in that time.

Andrew, on the other hand, was silent because
in one sentence alone two of his most burning questions had been
answered: he knew who Madison was, and he found out what Brooke’s
sister’s name was; strangely enough, they were one in the same.
Though he would never reveal it to anyone else, he was relieved he
had never had to ask.

Coming back to the present, Andrew turned
slightly to Brooke who was currently more interested in her dinner
than the conversation, he quietly asked, “I see you wore red
tonight. Was there any special reason?”

Brooke blushed slightly before she smiled at
him. “It’s just a coincidence, nothing more.”

“Hmm. A coincidence, you say?” he said, his
eyebrow raising and his face full of amusement. “I don’t think so.
I think you wore that gown knowing I favor the color red and you
wanted to get my attention. I must say, well done, you certainly
got my full attention.”

“I know,” Brooke replied smugly.

Andrew chuckled. She probably did know the
affect she had on men, specifically when she wore that gown. He
leaned over and looked at the hem more closely, then said loud
enough for the whole table to hear, “Your gown is very lovely, Miss
Banks. I particularly like the roses along the hem.” When she
glared daggers at him, he smiled. “Miss Banks, I am a bit of a
numbskull when it comes to such things as flowers and their
significance, would you please inform me what the significance is
of the different color roses?”

The whole table once again looked to Brooke’s
gown. All looking at the various places that rosettes were visible
from where she was sitting: wrists and bodice. Brooke’s face turned
pink again, but Andrew didn’t think it wasn’t because everyone was
looking at her, he was sure it was because he was touching her
ankle with his foot.

Andrew enjoyed that she had become flustered
and not be able to speak. He enjoyed it even more a moment later
when she jumped a little after he slipped his foot out of his shoe
and ran it along her lower calf. Though he kept his foot outside
her gown, he could see it was still causing the desired effect on
her. It was making her uncomfortable. Which meant soon she’d be
rambling nonsense. His male pride soared.

She turned to look at him with an innocent
face and sweetly asked, “What makes you think I would know anything
about roses and their meanings, my lord?”

Andrew may not be able to get to her with his
words, but he was definitely unsettling her with his foot. “I just
thought this was something that would be of interest to you, since
you are from New York,” he paused in mock contemplation, “which, if
I remember correctly, would mean you have seen quite a few. Or was
I misinformed?”

“Very true,” agreed Mrs. Banks, oblivious of
the tension between Brooke and Andrew. “Roses are very abundant in
the state of New York. In fact, I daresay that if there were ever
to be such a thing as a State Flower, the rose would be it!”

The men in the room shook their heads at Mrs.
Banks suggestion that a state would have a particular flower to be
known for and use it as a symbol. Good thing men ran the
government. Such ideas were ridiculous! Leave it to a woman to
think a state needed a “State Flower”. What next, a State Fruit?
Andrew snorted at the very idea. Glancing over to Mr. Banks, he
rather thought the man agreed with him but didn’t wish to hurt his
wife’s feelings by saying anything.

“Mrs. Banks,” Andrew said, never taking his
eyes off Brooke’s pink face while he spoke to her mother. “One
would assume that if roses were so common place where you hail
from, that a person might find them of interest and know what they
signify. Right?”

“That is very true. All three of my daughters
enjoy roses. Brooke even planted some very beautiful rose bushes
for our balcony garden back in the city,” Mrs. Banks said, pride
filling her voice and face.

“Ah, so my original assumption that you would
know about roses and their meanings was not amiss,” Andrew observed
aloud while his eyes observed Brooke’s face color even more, and
his foot continued to observe her ankle—under her skirt.

“Umm…uh…..” Brooke stammered. “I know a
little of roses and growing them. However, I cannot begin to know
why you would have a sudden interest in their meanings.”

“Well, that’s simple enough. You see, I was
admiring your gown, as I’m sure everyone else in the room has done
at some point this evening, when I noticed that you have white,
pink, and red roses along the edges. Being a sort that is always
thirsting for knowledge, I wondered what, if anything, the
different colors meant.”

Brooke acted like she barely understood what
exactly he had said. Her face took on a far away look. Her wide
eyes were staring across the room; her breathing became shallow and
her mouth hung slightly open. Andrew assumed the reason for her
ignorance was because he kept running his stocking-clad foot up and
down her shapely calf.

When Andrew gave a delicate cough, she
started. “As it happens, I do know a little about growing roses.
I’m not certain I would be the most knowledgeable about their
meanings, however.” Her voice was low and held a hint of
agitation.

“Pish posh,” Madison said with a wave of her
hand, not recognizing her sister’s uncomfortable state. “Brooke
knows more about roses than the rest of us combined. She adores
them. Not only does she grow them, she also has a book about their
meanings, and when certain roses are acceptable to give and
receive. On more than one occasion I have been bored to tears
hearing all about it.”

Andrew froze in astonishment. Not only did he
just learn how much stock Brooke put into roses, but that was more
than he had heard Madison say in all of his visits combined. Maybe
she wasn’t as featherbrained as he originally thought.

Breaking his thoughts, he heard Liberty say,
“Tell him the meanings. He asked.”

“Yes, I did ask. Please, dazzle me with your
brilliance,” Andrew encouraged.

Brooke looked straight into his eyes, which
he knew were alight with amusement. His foot, however, was no
longer on her leg. “Their meanings are easy really. White ones
stand for purity. Pink are for adoration or appreciation. And the
red ones, they stand for love.”

While she’d been speaking, Andrew had shifted
slightly in his chair. He moved just enough that he could be closer
to her without drawing anyone’s attention. Once he was satisfied
nobody detected anything, he boldly pressed his thigh against hers.
“Are you trying to say you represent all three of these things at
once by wearing them all at the same time?” Andrew asked. His voice
took on a more silky tone, while his thigh pressed even harder
against hers.

“No,” Brooke answered with a slight hitch in
her voice. “The gown is in no way a statement about me. It is just
that, a gown. I was telling you what the roses would mean if being
given in real life.”

“I think the roses on your gown could be
considered a statement,” Andrew said matter-of-factly. When nobody
else in the room said anything. Andrew decided it was time to put
on the charm and woo the whole family at once. “I’d assume that the
white ones, meaning purity, would reflect you, seeing as though you
are very innocent. The pink ones could symbolize that there is much
to adore
and
admire about you. Several of which, I have
learned of in the past few minutes. Furthermore, the red ones,
symbolizing love, could be a personal statement of how easy it
would be for someone to have that emotion for you.”

When everyone was silent after his speech,
except Mrs. Banks, who because of her romantic nature, let out a
wistful gasp, Andrew realized he had just made a huge fool of
himself. Instead of saying something clever, witty and relatively
romantic, he had basically just declared his love and adoration for
this woman. A woman he had no business having any kind of feelings
for, especially love.

The silence stretched out for a few minutes
before Mrs. Banks gave a delicate cough to remind her daughters of
their manners. Quite plainly, she was trying to remind them to
close their mouths that were gaping with awe, and for Brooke to
acknowledge the compliment. Neither of which happened right
away.

It was Mr. Banks who ended the torturing
silence. “Well, now that we all have a thorough understanding of
how roses relate to Brooke’s personality, I should like to inform
you all we are to go see my brother in a week. He and his wife are
hosting a house party and we have been invited. Naturally, I told
him we would be delighted to attend.”

This was certainly good news for Andrew. The
baron’s oldest son Alex was one of the few people of the
ton
Andrew considered a true friend; which meant he would be able to
secure an invitation to the house party. This could work out very
well for him and his plans.

“Are we to go to Bath, then?” Liberty
inquired of no one in particular.

“We can go to Bath if you desire; but their
estate is actually about ten miles outside of Bath,” John informed
his daughter matter-of-factly.