To Win A Wallflower. Liz Tyner

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       Chapter Two

      Barrett nodded at Carson’s recounting of stitching used in the air balloons as he and Carson returned to the house. The man’s notion of a rousing evening left a little to be desired. It didn’t improve with the tenth telling. Barrett had had to insist they return home early as he couldn’t bear another moment of the camaraderie.

      Barrett gave the servant his hat, letting Carson ramble on. Three days. He could not take another balloon story and he had yet to see the daughter. Several times he’d caught a whiff of perfume in the air or heard skittering noises above his head, and just a hint of a voice that he’d heard only once before. He remained in the house, surprised that he was willing to stay, but aware he’d always had a persistence inside him that he couldn’t quite understand.

      Carson remained at the doorway, giving the butler instructions to pass along to the housekeeper to pass along to the cook. Barrett continued up the stairs.

      As he ascended the stairs, he realised she stood at the top, watching him.

      A slender woman, with little of her face left over if you subtracted her eyes and lips and hair. She was seemingly frozen at the sight of him.

      It would not have been out of place for her to be bathed in sunbeams and yet she hardly seemed the incomparable that his brother had spoken of. More like a whisper of a woman than the temptress his brother described.

      He walked into her presence, unable to look away in those moments, trying to discern what was different and yet not staring. ‘You must be Miss Carson.’

      She nodded, dipping her head to him.

      ‘Annabelle,’ her father called out behind Barrett, ‘you are supposed to be in your room.’ His voice intensified so much that Barrett turned to him.

      ‘I thought you were to be out all evening,’ she responded.

      The man moved up the stairs with more speed than Barrett would have thought him capable of.

      Barrett stepped aside.

      ‘You are not to be bothering our guests.’ Carson’s face had reddened and Barrett didn’t think it all from the exertion of running up the stairs.

      ‘It’s no bother,’ Barrett reassured Carson.

      ‘She’s not to be about,’ Carson said, shooing her away with his hand. ‘I’ve told her many times that she is not to interfere with business.’

      The smile left her face. ‘Yes, Father. I was just going to see how Myrtle is doing. Her feet were hurting her so, as she has been running up and down the stairs to make sure I am fine.’

      ‘You are not to be traipsing after the servants. It is their duty to care for you. I would not want Mr Barrett to get the wrong impression of you.’

      She looked down, but Barrett wasn’t sure if it was submissive or to hide her eyes. He’d seen the set of her jaw.

      ‘Go to your room,’ Carson instructed.

      ‘Wait.’ Barrett held out a palm in Carson’s direction. ‘It’s her house. I wouldn’t want to displace her. And my only impression seems to be that she understands someone else’s discomfort.’

      ‘She doesn’t mind staying in her room,’ Carson said. ‘Annie is used to it. Prefers it most of the time.’ He spoke the last words almost as an accusation.

      ‘I’m sure she wishes to keep out of the way. And I would imagine she does quite well at it.’ Barrett could attest to that. He’d tried for three days to see her in the family quarters and apparently the only time she would be there was when no one was around.

      ‘You don’t realise what it is like to have a daughter,’ Carson eyed Barrett. ‘Annie is the sunshine of our days. She tried to keep her older sisters from upsetting us. She’s the youngest and above all else I want her protected from business and the strife life can bring.’

      ‘My sisters—I have two,’ Annie said, lifting her eyes. ‘Father is concerned that I don’t follow in their footsteps. They’ve both recently...moved away.’

      ‘Laura married and Honour is visiting family because she could not be content at home. Annie is all we have left. And we don’t want anyone getting any wrong ideas.’ He glanced at Barrett. ‘She’s half-betrothed, but I must beg your confidence in the matter.’

      ‘Of course you have it,’ Barrett said.

      Annie took in a breath and stared at her father. Barrett caught the apologetic glance her father gave her.

      ‘I’m sure there are few men who are good enough for a woman who might be concerned for a staff member’s feet,’ Barrett said.

      She turned to him. A glimmer of appreciation flashed across her face.

      Carson nodded. ‘It is indeed difficult to find someone suitable. I’d thought the man her sister Laura married half-good enough for her and—’ he shook his head so that his chin wiggled ‘—he sorely disappointed me.’

      ‘Perhaps Miss Annie and your wife could join us for a cup of tea,’ Barrett said.

      Now Carson turned to him, suspicion in his eyes. ‘The women would not be interested in the things we men like.’ He clasped his hands behind his back and frowned at Barrett.

      Annie smiled, but it dimmed her eyes. ‘I would not.’ She turned and walked down the hallway, head proud as any peer, and disappeared around a corner. The servants’ stair.

      ‘I don’t remember ever seeing your other daughters about London,’ Barrett said.

      ‘No,’ Carson said. ‘They chose to leave. I expect them both to return eventually, sadder but wiser.’ Carson stared at the path Annie had taken to leave. ‘Sons would have been so much easier to raise...’

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