Page 8 of The Spring Promise (The Starlings of Starling Hall #1)
CHAPTER EIGHT
W ill found evenings at the Norris’s very stiff and formal, especially compared to the informality of Starling Hall. The Norris family lived most of the time in London but returned to their country home at least once a year. They consisted of Mr and Mrs. Norris and their four sons, who were aged between 18 and 25 years.
Will wasn’t overly keen on any of them—they seemed to think their country neighbours were beneath them—but Molly had asked him to attend. His parents would be there, along with two of his sisters, Abby and Breana.
Breana had just turned 19 and was perhaps the prettiest of the Starling children, although they were all said to be good-looking if one liked red hair and blue eyes. Breana was named by Lady Starling’s unconventional sister, who had come to stay during the birth. She was supposed to be there to help with the other two children, but had mostly caused chaos and uproar. She hadn’t changed, and the thought of her still made Will shudder.
All the same, the name Breana was appropriate for someone so bright and bubbly, sometimes too bubbly, and who rarely sat still for long. People were drawn to her, and sometimes it was difficult to persuade them to leave.
Tonight, the Norris’s had hired rather a large orchestra, who were in the ballroom playing their hearts out, and there was enough food in the supper room to feed an army. Will tried not to criticise, but when he thought of the tenant farmers who paid Mr Norris for their land, and the dreadful state of their cottages, it was hard not to point it out.
“Please don’t,” Abby sighed.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Yes, I do. You have that disapproving look on your face.”
Will suspected she was right. He tried to smile and lighten his mood, but it had been dark ever since Molly reminded him of his promise. He had a violent dislike for Mark Hunter. The man made his skin itch. Why didn’t the fellow go back to London where he belonged and leave him in peace?
Celeste would also be here tonight, and it was probably the last chance he had of seeing her before she left. On the one hand, it meant he would not have to be reminded of his broken heart whenever he saw her, but on the other, her departure would leave him confused and lonely.
He seemed to be confused a lot lately.
“There’s Molly!” Breana said in a loud voice. But instead of shushing her for making a disturbance, everybody around her smiled. Breana had that effect on people.
He followed his sister’s pointing finger and saw Molly and her sister Grace. Molly was wearing a dress the colour of the spring growth on the ash trees that ran along their southern border, and her hair was curled and bounced about her face as she turned this way and that, greeting people and smiling.
“Whatever is wrong with you, Will?” Abby said in a low, scolding voice. “You look as if you are going to the gallows.”
“You read too many romances,” Will countered, knowing that the novels were one of his eldest sister’s few vices, but he had no heart for a verbal sparring match today. “I am going to speak to Molly.”
“Go then. And for goodness sake, cheer up!”
Abby reminded him of their mother sometimes. Although she was not much older than him, she was like a senior woman in so many ways. Because she was the eldest Starling, she hadn’t been allowed to be a child very long. Will was probably like that as well—sensible and dependable and all too aware of his responsibilities. Such character traits were good to have, but sometimes it did not make him amusing company in a social setting.
Molly looked up as he approached. There was a wary expression on her face he did not understand. He took her hand in his and bowed more formally than normal.
“You look beautiful tonight, Molly.”
Startled, she blurted out, “Have we begun already?”
Will’s shoulders shook with contained laughter—he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t sure whether he was amused or had reached the limits of his sanity. “Do you want me to go outside and come in again?”
Colour flooded Molly’s face. “Be quiet. You never say those sorts of things to me, so how was I to know?”
Didn’t he? Will often thought them, but perhaps she was right and he rarely spoke the thoughts aloud. He wasn’t a verbose sort of person, and certainly wasn’t a sophisticated London gentleman like Hunter. After his failure with Celeste, he had given up pretending to be someone other than what he was. Plain, ordinary Will Starling, but with an added sting of sarcasm.
The orchestra began to play one of the more popular tunes of the day, and Will held out his hand again. “Shall we?” he asked, his gaze on hers.
She nodded and took his hand and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor to join several other couples. Breana was there, dancing with one of the Norris boys—to him they all looked the same—and he hoped she behaved herself. One never knew what might come out of her mouth when she was overexcited.
Next he saw his parents, who were watching him dance with Molly. They were smiling from the edge of the dance floor, as if the sight pleased them, which he supposed made sense. They had known Molly since the day she was born, and they all loved her.
After another turn around the room, he spotted Celeste and Sir Reginald, along with Mark Hunter. At least the cad wasn’t dancing with her.
“Ouch, you are squeezing my hand,” Molly whispered irritably. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
Will eased his grip. “Sorry. Hunter is over there. You wish to make the man jealous. Should I circle in front of him and show off my superb dancing skills?”
“Better not.” He could hear the warm amusement in her voice. “Wait a while, and then you can flirt with me where he can see us.”
Will thought for a moment. “How do I flirt? If my luck with Celeste is any measure, I’m not very good at it.”
Molly sighed. “No, I suppose you aren’t. Well, first of all, you smile and make promises with your eyes, Will.”
Make promises with his eyes? He tried to imagine what that even meant as they danced. It seemed Molly had caught quite a bit of male attention from the crowd, apart from Hunter, who was still speaking to Celeste and her uncle. Probably boasting about more of their ugly plants.
“That isn’t kind, Will,” Molly scolded him. Only then did he realise he had spoken aloud. “Just because they are not vegetables doesn’t mean they are not important. In a hundred years’ time, people will applaud Sir Reginald for his work.”
“In a hundred years’ time, my descendants will applaud mine,” he retorted. “I plan to make some great innovations in crop management next year, and the breeding program for my sheep is going very well.”
Her eyes were alight with laughter, and a smile trembled on her lips. Just for a moment, his mind went completely blank. He had called her beautiful before, and he realised she was—she put everyone else in the room to shame.
“Will, are you all right?” Molly sounded concerned and had a strange frown on her face. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to do this for long. Just a little flirting and you can consider yourself released from your promise.”
He nodded, swallowed, and found his voice. The dancing had stopped and it was time to enact their plan. “Of course,” he said. “Let us flirt.”
She giggled as he led her over to the Mortons and Hunter, who looked up at them in surprise. Hunter smiled at Molly and gave a practised bow.
“Miss Lacey! I was just telling Sir Reginald and Miss Morton about my latest acquisition.”
“A man eating cactus, is it?” Will asked.
Celeste frowned and Molly dug her elbow into his side.
“Not quite,” Hunter laughed politely. “A Dendrobium densiflorum . It is a type of orchid from the Dutch East Indies, and very rare. I was lucky to hear about it from a botanist in Edinburgh.”
“Indeed you were, my boy,” Sir Reginald put in, eying Will with disfavour. “ Very lucky. I think you should write to the gardens at Kew about it. They might want a look.”
“Assuming it doesn’t eat them,” Will said, not quite under his breath.
Hunter ignored him. “I might do that,” he said, but it seemed he couldn’t take his eyes off Molly. “Perhaps you would like to see it, Miss Lacey? My grandmother has reminded me to invite my friends to afternoon tea, and I have been remiss in not doing so before now.”
“We could all come,” Celeste said quickly. “I would certainly like to see this specimen.”
“Of course,” Hunter said, but Will thought he was perhaps less enthusiastic than before. “And what about you, Starling?”
Will began to roll his eyes, but another dig in his ribs reminded him of his promise. “Thank you. It would be my pleasure.” He turned to Molly. “We could go together, could we not? The two of us.”
Celeste made a choking sound.
Molly smiled. “I would like that, Will.”