Earl of Billington and Miss Lyndon

Chapter 05

Ellie looked at him so quickly that her nose hit Charles's shoulder. "What do you want to say, My Lord?"

"I wish.. hik. swear to you that I. hik."

Ellie's lips smiled slightly. "I don't know why I trusted you" Ellie said. "But, yes, I believe you."

"Maybe it's because my ankles look like rotten pears" joked Charles.

"No," said Ellie understandingly, "I don't think you're as bad as people think."

Charles grunting. "I'm far from. hik."

"I think you're giving extra pay to all your employees when Christmas comes."

Unable to contain himself, Charles met red.

"D-ha!" ellie is triumphant. "It's true, right?"

"It can make them loyal" Charles murmured.

"And can make them buy gifts for her family" continued Ellie softly.

Charles grumbled and threw his face away. "A beautiful sunset, isn't it, Miss Lyndon?"

"A clever switch of topics" Ellie said with a grin of understanding. "But, yeah, it's pretty beautiful."

"I think it's pretty amazing" continued Charles. "how many different colors appear at sunset. I saw orange, pink, and light yellow. Oh, and there's a little red in there" he said, pointing south. "And most amazingly, all those beautiful colors will change again tomorrow."

"Are you an artist?" ask Ellie

"No" replied Charles. "I just love the sunset."

"Bellfield's not far away anymore" Ellie continued

"Oh, huh?"

"I don't want to go home" replied Charles.

He sighed, thinking about what awaited his return. Piles of stones that make up Wycombe Abbey. A pile of stones that also required a pile of money for its maintenance. The money will be out of his hands in less than a month thanks to the intervention of his father.

One could have thought that George Wycombe's control of his family's finances would end after his death, but he didn't. He could still find a way to keep everything under control from inside the tomb. Charles curled softly as he imagined his father's hand around his neck. Charles really felt his father strangling his neck from the grave.

Fifteen days to go, he will be thirty. Exactly fifteen more days, all the inheritances will be renegotiated from it. Except--------

Miss Lyndon coughed slightly and rubbed her eyes that were exposed to dust. Charles looked at her with interest.

Except--thinking Charles was slow-slow, unwilling to miss the important detail of his still-foggy-brain unless in these fifteen days he could get a wife.

Muss Lyndon led him to Bellfield High Street and continued south. "Bee and Thistle are there. I didn't see your horse-drawn carriage. Is it in the back?"

Very nice, thought Charles. Nice voice, smart, and a good sense of humor, and-- although Charles does not yet know what color the woman's hair-Miss Lyndon has a pair of beautiful eyebrows. And leaning the pen on this woman really feels comfortable.

Charles cleared his throat. "Miss Lyndon."

"Don't tell me you parked your train wrong."

"Miss Lyndon, there's an important matter I want to talk to you about."

"Is your ankle getting sick? I know walking in your state will make it worse, but I don't know how else to get you into town. I think the ice will..."

"Miss Lyndon!" Charles almost exclaimed.

Ellie was silent.

"Do you think you want to..." Charles cleared his throat, suddenly wishing he wasn't drunk, because he knew his treasury could be more varied when he wasn't drunk.

"Lord Billington?" asked Ellie with a worried expression.

Charles said without thinking. "Will you marry me?"