Free Like a Flower in Bloom by Siri Mitchell Page B

voice and a barreled chest, who goes about with his nose in the air?”
    “He is rather large. And he does make a very many pronouncements and hasn’t ever once listened to any of my suggestions.”
    “Say no more, Miss Withersby. I detested him on principle before, hearing how he had taken up your position, but now I shall detest him upon your evidence as well.”
    “That’s quite kind of you.”
    “Think nothing of it. We must stick together, you and I.”
    I glanced around the room. “I haven’t been to any of these dinner parties before. I’m astonished by how many people I truly don’t know.” Even those I recognized from church, I couldn’t say I was actually acquainted with, for normally we happened into the service late and sat in the back pew, ducking out at the opening notes of the postlude.
    “Many of them are just here for the hunt. It’s best to ignore them. I assure you, they’re none of them interested in country folk. Not even a baronet’s daughter like me. Now, I shall point out all the rest. Over there is Mr. Stansbury.”
    I looked in the direction she was nodding and saw a man of middling years speaking to Mr. Bickwith.
    “He’s an industrialist come from Liverpool who has boughtOverwich Hall. And as if he doesn’t have enough money already, he’s leasing out the rights to his hunting park. I’m afraid I’ve heard his taste is somewhat vulgar.” She tipped her head as she considered him. “But I have to consider that there must be some hope for him, otherwise he would never have chosen to wear that waistcoat. I’m sure it must be velvet. At least, that is, mostly velvet. It’s quite stunning, don’t you think?”
    I didn’t know what to think, but I nodded anyway.
    “He’s very keen on his glasshouse and the development of the grounds of his estate but seems to have little interest in marrying, though I doubt very many people know that. It’s just that I might as well not exist for all the attention he pays me, and I don’t mind telling you I’m considered quite the catch in Cheshire. He might be just the man for you, Miss Withersby. He’s quite handsome, in his way, don’t you think?”
    I could only agree.
    “Knowing him to be disinterested in matrimony, you could safely be seen to pursue him without putting yourself in danger of receiving a proposal.”
    “I will keep that in mind.”
    “Although, as I said, he made his own money, so he’s most definitely not a gentleman. Oh! That could be a point we can use in your favor. Might your father not be even more alarmed if you’re thought to be drawn to a man like him?”
    “I—”
    “Now. Enough of Mr. Stansbury. Just to his left, beyond Mr. Bickwith, is Mr. Robinson, also a bachelor, who might be . . .” She paused as she frowned. “No. No, I’ve changed my mind. You definitely wouldn’t wish to marry him, and perhaps it’s best not even to encourage him. He’s proposed to almost every female in Overwich over the age of fourteen.” She leaned toward me. “And it’s rumored he even proposed to Miss Fletcher.”
    “Miss Fletcher?” I hadn’t met her. At least if I had, I couldn’t remember. “I don’t think I know who—”
    She pointed out a woman across the room with a flick of her fan. “She must be forty, if she’s a day.” Her eyes swept the room. “Across the floor, over there, is our new rector—”
    “Mr. Hopkins-Whyte. I have already met him.”
    She studied my face for a moment. “And it wasn’t a pleasure. Is that what you mean to say?”
    “He was very apologetic about the whole thing.”
    “Apologetic! Whatever did he do?”
    I explained our way of meeting, and she considered him from behind the sweep of her fan. “On the whole, I would have to say such behavior does not bode well. A rector ought to be quite sure of himself, otherwise one would find it very difficult to put much confidence in his sermons, would one not?”
    “I suppose one—”
    “And you say he apologized