Distracted by her ruminations, Mabel barely heard what Everett was saying. 

"As I recall, Mr. Walton had two young lads with him. Your brothers, I presume?"

A question. Everett was asking her a question! Mabel found the stitching on her belt quite exciting to look upon, while her tongue found a response on its own. "If those lads were youths of about ten, as alike as two peas in a pod, then you must have met my brothers."

"Indeed, they were." A chuckle that escaped Everett had a gentle aspect to it. Perhaps he loved children? That was an indication of a kind heart.

"I pray that Hugh and Edward had been on their best behaviour?" Mabel asked with her heart in her throat. Alas, her brothers' comportment could be imperfect these days, even rude.

"I too had been boisterous in my youth," Everett replied elusively. Then a wistful smile curved his handsome lips, threatening Mabel's heart with an ache. "And their antics offered a diversion. Your father is a pleasant gentleman, Miss Walton, but he is a bit enthusiastic about his theories on the best running of an estate by the application of newfangled economic ideas."

She found herself encouraged by the easy flow of their conversation and the familiar topics. It was as if she knew Everett for years, not minutes. He seemed willing to continue it too. "Did my father convert you to his theories yet, Mr. Chesterton?"

"Unfortunately, no. I am afraid they went over my head." He opened his arms to the side in a show of a surrender, a smile brimming on his lips. "For I have no interest whatsoever in the country lifestyles, nor the aptitude. Radcliffe would have been delighted."

She about explained how most everyone was baffled by her father's theories, when Hazel cut in, "Then you will not stay long in our parts?"

Such pointed question! And Hazel always got away with eccentric behaviour, thanks to an innocent smile on her pretty face. But she couldn't say she didn't wait for his answer with baited breath. It suddenly became a thing of the most paramount importance if Mr. Chesterton planned to stay in Lancashire..

The corners of his eyes tightened—he'd look majestic in a severe mood. "This, Miss Walton, is entirely dependent upon my brother's whims."

"Everett, Everett... this act of yours is getting tiresome. Your brother and Lady Catherine have your best interests at heart," Miss Carter said cajolingly. "They wish for you to settle after the hardships you endured on the battlefield."

His hands clasped behind his back. It snapped straighter than when he'd ridden the horse. Mabel almost couldn't believe how tall this posture made him, towering over her, nearly brushing the chandelier.

"Indubitably, my mother and brother are pre-eminent authorities on what an officer requires after leaving the service," he said in a mild tone, though noticeably tinted with irony.

"Why... why did you leave the service, Mr. Chesterton?"

Everett! How easily his name dropped from Miss Carter's lips! They were third cousins, of course, on Lady Catherine's side of the family, and had known one another for a long time, but Mabel felt she deserved this privilege too.

Everett suited him so much better than Adonis. It would relieve the tediousness of saying Mr. Chesterton this and Lord Chesterton that to distinguish between the two brothers, Everett and Caliban or whatever Lord Chesterton's name was. Radcliffe? Pooh. She didn't care for his name one whit. It was awfully unfair that she must mind her manners, and couldn't say Everett.

Alas! She might have already overstepped by prying.

Fortunately, he didn't prickle at her question. On the contrary, he appeared to be pleased with it.

"The desire for personal liberty drove me to resign my commission, Miss Mabel," he explained. His smile softened from the previous sardonic one, when he had spoken of his mother and brother. "I was quite young at the time of taking my commission and required discipline, but I grew out of such boyish notions."

I could imagine it would be a burden for a free-spirited character." Her whole body shifted forward involuntarily, in response to the intimate feel of this confession. He spoke to her as if she were a friend. As if she were the only soul in the world able to understand his turmoil, even.

He nodded, pleased with her deduction. 'Oh, Everett!' she cried out inside.

"While the war lasted, there was no other recourse than to grunt and bear under the chafing chain of command."

Mabel swallowed, even though she wasn't sure what was there to swallow. Certainly, not any saliva, for her mouth was parched. Fascination and terror of things that men had to deal with, and also a bit of envy, agitated her senses.

Everett was so worldly and dealt with notions so outside her own experiences, and even the experiences described in the novels she read, that she wished to absorb it as a sponge absorbs water.

Drink the words in, like I would drink water from a well.

"But now that the nations had defeated the ghastly little Corsican, and I am a man, I wish to go about my life as a man would."

Bonaparte had much to answer for, yet Mabel had never met anyone with such personal connexion to the deposed Emperor. An Emperor! It propelled them from Lancashire to the highest circles. She was on the verge of lightheadedness just thinking of this.

"You will find the abundance of liberty around here, Mr. Chesterton, for riding your hell-horse or whatever else you desire to occupy yourself with," Hazel said with perfect composure.

"No, Miss Walton, I am afraid not." He sighed. "The delusion of a quiet existence, useful and productive is as foreign to me as pursuing the martial distinctions at the time of peace. I was not born to be a vertebra in the backbone of our country."

"I can see how your contradictions confound those who wish to look after your happiness," Miss Carter chided.

Mabel felt her lips purse in irritation. She adored Miss Carter, but it was her act that was getting tiring. Must she repeat herself every minute?

"Ah, but that's the root of the problem, Harriet," he said. "For I do not wish to be looked after, neither by my mother, nor by my dearest brother, nor by His Majesty or anyone else."

Such proud words again...

"What of a wife?" Mabel asked, trying to make her question sound as hypothetical as possible. "Surely any man of good fortune welcomes the concern from his wife and her soothing love?"

"The notion of marriage stifles me," he replied, "for it implies being tied to the same place."

The sentiment both perplexed and excited Mabel. Every unwed lady desired a marriage. It followed that gentlemen did as well, though they had been at an advantage as of late. But this wasn't avoidance, simply choosiness.

Yet, there was a silver lining in his professed dislike of marriage, she decided with a sigh of relief. It explained the foundation of friendship between Everett and Miss Carter. She could exclude the romantic interest that she had suspected. Their ease wasn't like the one that Mabel imagined would form between two long-time lovers. They were more like the champions of the same cause, the confirmed bachelors who flaunted that trait of character.

Miss Carter, however, had never expressed displeasure with settling down. Something about Everett's startling blue eyes whenever he looked around the room, hinted that he hadn't given up all interest in the fairer sex. It smacked of danger, and thrill had never drawn her before. But then again, she'd never met Everett before either.

While she struggled with his enigma, Hazel's eyes glimmered boldly. "In my opinion, Mr. Chesterton, you are generalizing. A marriage to the right person could be as exciting as any adventure."

The stab of jealousy bothered Mabel again: if it wasn't Miss Carter, it was her sister who upstaged her with a perfect remark. So bold, yet so proper. Why didn't she think of that?

He laughed uproariously and lifted his hands, palms up. "I give in, I give in. The world is in a conspiracy against my opinion. Or, mayhap, I just have not the gift to put it as clearly as the writers our society admires."

"Quite the opposite, you had been very eloquent," Mabel said softly. "Your predicament moved me and I hope you shall find a resolution to it that will keep peace in your family."

She reddened under the grateful glance he directed her way. Perhaps she wasn't hopeless in making conversation with men. Though the smell of freshly baked scones was wafting from the dining room, and in her experience, it had a softening effect on men, so the credit might need sharing with the cook.

Whatever his reasons were, Mabel's sweetness or the culinary magic, Everett abandoned the argument graciously. "I promise you all to be a good citizen of Lancashire for now."

"Your manners are returning, praise Heavens!" Miss Carter exclaimed. "Very well, my friends, let us seize this fortuitous development and speak only of stars and their influence on our sensibilities until lunch is served."

"A brilliant notion," Everett said, then chortled, as if the next idea came to him on the spot, though Mabel didn't believe it was accidental.

"Promise to write to Radcliffe and describe to him what a wonderful influence the society has on me, dear Harriet?"

He could say he was a boy no more, but at this moment he reminded her of Hugh or Edward when they pleaded with their parents, that Mabel's heart went out to him.

"This exile would be a more bearable experience, if I am allowed to make more friendships."

"I promise, I promise," Miss Carter relented, as he bent to kiss her hand. "I shall write to Racliffe and convince him that our rascal has been completely reformed and is quite fit for polite company."

Exile, Mabel thought forlornly. Exile is all that he believes the existence among us could be, after the glamour of London. Her heart squeezed with the desire to visit there, or any other place that Everett had loved.