Miss Eden’s eyes dropped to the pocket watch in his hand, the amusement deepening in her gaze. “You are not tardy, Mr. Hatcher. I am absurdly early wherever I go.”
Jonathan slid the watch back into his pocket, relief arriving with embarrassing force.
“My family mocks me at length for it,” Miss Eden continued, entirely untroubled. “But I would far rather arrive a quarter hour early than risk arriving late.”
The corners of Jonathan’s mouth drifted upward despite himself.
“After all, traffic is an unpredictable thing and can turn a five-minute journey into a half hour, and it is terribly upsetting to watch the time tick away, knowing you shan’t arrive as intended,” she added.
“You needn’t convince me of that. I am here a full ten minutes before our appointment,” he replied.
A glitter of approval gleamed in the lady’s eye as though punctuality was the mark of a good character. And Jonathan supposed it was. Not that lateness was a grievous sin, but timeliness required forethought and consideration. He’d once heard it said that tardy people were simply overly optimistic sorts, forever thinking they could achieve more than time would permit, but Jonathan couldn’t help thinking that was a generous assessment.
Together they turned toward the gates and the broad pathways winding into the park beyond, and Jonathan had scarcely taken more than two steps when Miss Eden slipped her hand lightly upon his arm.
The contact should not have been startling. It was an ordinary enough thing. Respectable. Entirely proper for a promenade through the park. Yet the unexpectedness of it sent a visible jolt through him all the same, his shoulders tightening before he managed to smooth the reaction away. Jonathan had escorted ladies before, but there was a vast difference between one’s kin and a lady.
Not that Mother and Emma weren’t ladies. But they weren’tladies.
Miss Eden glanced sideways at him then, dark eyes bright beneath the brim of her hat perched atop her head, and Jonathan became abruptly certain she was laughing at him. Though he supposed it was only fair when he’d jumped like a schoolboy caught red-handed by the headmaster.
Together they passed through the entrance and into the park proper, where the city vanished into vast stretches of green. The winter’s mildness lingered pleasantly in the air, and the trees carried the first vibrant haze of new leaves whilst little bursts of color dotted the flowerbeds.
The afternoon sat comfortably between warm and cool, and carriages rolled at an unhurried pace along the outer drives. In the distance, children laughed and chased one another across the lawns whilst their nursemaids watched from the nearby benches, and conversations drifted around them in fragments as others passed by, but beside him Miss Eden remained silent.
Jonathan cast about desperately for something suitable to say. Even the most difficult of negotiations were far easier than this, for contracts and figures obeyed reason in ways ladies did not. And his mind was being as utterly useless as it had been the previous night. Why the lady wished to see him again was a mystery, but Jonathan accepted that many a man was blessed with things they did not deserve.
Beside him, Miss Eden appeared perfectly at ease, her hand resting lightly upon his arm, seemingly unaware that he was reduced to a trembling jelly at the prospect of speaking to a young lady. Jonathan began to suspect silence might be preferable to whatever catastrophe his mind produced.
Adam would have spoken by now. Effortlessly. A light observation delivered with that careless confidence which made ladies laugh before they had even properly considered whether the remark deserved it. Jonathan had watched his brother accomplish it a hundred times without apparent thought. Surely it could not be so difficult to imitate.
Determination settled grimly into Jonathan’s spine.
“You look particularly…” But his words faltered. “Pretty” sat immediately in his throat with such alarming force that he nearly choked on it, but it seemed too suggestive. “Beautiful” proved infinitely worse. Even “fetching” felt too intimate.
Miss Eden turned her face toward him expectantly, and the full attention of those dark eyes demolished his remaining composure. Jonathan’s gaze dropped in panic to the first harmless object he could find.
“…Your shawl is nice.”
The article in question was a particularly fine cashmere and worthy of compliment, but of all the things to say, that was by far the weakest choice.
“What I meant was…” he added quickly, but Jonathan didn’t know how to finish that statement.
Of course, he’d seen Adam maneuver about society enough times for several rote compliments to come to mind, but it wasn’t merely the words that worked in his brother’s favor; the delivery mattered far more, and Jonathan could not replicate that. Hopelessness pressed heavily against his chest, and his free hand clenched at his side.
“Breathe, Mr. Hatcher,” said Miss Eden with a pitying smile. “‘Tis only a conversation. Nothing so important, so do not work yourself into a dither.”
“That is easy to say when you have conversation aplenty to offer,” he mumbled.
“Now, that is a far better compliment, Mr. Hatcher. Even if it was more akin to an accusation.” Miss Eden laughed, a sharp but warm sound. “Though I would say you are the first person to think I am skilled at it. I am infamous for retreating behind a book when company becomes irksome, and if not for my surname, I am certain London society would’ve cut me from their ranks long ago.”
Jonathan glanced down the path ahead of them, watching a carriage roll slowly along the outer drive whilst he attempted to gather what remained of his dignity.
“I would think a man in your profession would be skilled at conversing,” Miss Eden remarked. “Surely you are not so uncomfortable during negotiations.”
“That is different,” Jonathan replied, relieved to find that the answer came more steadily than anything else had thus far. “In those instances, there is always an objective clearly defined anda purpose to accomplish. One knows beforehand what must be discussed.”
“And society ladies are inconsiderate creatures that do not provide a properly structured agenda before conversing.”