“It is a good thing that Lady Shalrow is there,” Emma said as Deborah took a sip of tea from her cup. “They can keep each other company while Henry and Lady Joanna get to know each other a little better.”
“His Grace is there as well?” Deborah questioned, raising a small eyebrow.
She felt a tug at her heartstring, knowing that he was there with Joanna right now.
“Yes. I believe it is a good opportunity for the young couple to get acquainted with one another,” Peter added. “Come to think of it, we should visit an orchard as well, Emma. It would be a fun experience, picking the fruits and walking under the tree shade.”
Emma smiled shyly.
“Do they seem to get along well?” Deborah could not help but ask.
“They are quite similar to each other,” Emma remarked, nodding slowly. “Both of them have a penchant for upholding traditions. My mother knew what she was doing when she made the match.”
“Ah, but I would wager that too many similarities are perhaps also harmful,” Nicholas stated. “After all, you do not want your partner to be exactly like yourself. Do you?”
Emma and Peter exchanged a look.
“He has a point,” Emma said. “One of the reasons why I fell so hard for Peter was that he introduced me to new ideas that I had not yet thought of on my own. That would have been difficult to accomplish if we were both the same in every way.”
“It is also a matter of excitement,” Nicholas added, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Difference leads to excitement, wouldn’t you agree, Deborah?”
Deborah almost choked on her tea, and quickly glared at her brother. “I wouldn’t know what you are talking about. As you know, I scarcely have any interest in matters of romance.”
“It is possible that you might change your mind when the right person comes along,” Peter said and then cleared his throat, as though he was nervous about something. “Speaking of, I had meant to ask you what you thought of Lord Macaulay?”
Deborah knitted her eyebrows together, confused about who her brother was talking about. “I am not sure if I am familiar with who that is.”
“The gentleman that you danced with yesterday,” Peter reminded her. “He is an old friend of mine.”
“Oh…” Realization dawned on Deborah. “He bored me to tears.”
Nicholas and Emma chuckled at her statement, while Peter shot her a disappointed look.
“Deborah, you say that about every man you meet.” He sighed. “What was it about him that you disliked so much?”
“For one thing, he seemed to think that my passion for writing is a waste of time. In fact, he had the audacity to suggest that I give it up altogether in pursuit of a more useful pastime, such as embroidery.” Deborah rolled her eyes, her annoyance from the interaction returning to her.
“He is a good man,” Peter replied. “He will be at the ball tonight, and I suggest you give him another chance when you dance with him.”
“But why would I waste my time on someone who I simply do not see eye to eye with?” Deborah questioned, growing impatient.
“He expressed interest in asking for your hand in marriage,” Peter announced. “He is from a respectable family and earns well for himself.”
Deborah stared back at her brother with her mouth slightly agape. “Marriage?” she repeated the word as if it was an expletive.
“Yes, Deborah. Marriage. I know you do not think highly of the institution, but I believe you should think this through and give him a chance,” Peter urged.
“Perhaps you may change your mind,” Emma chimed in optimistically. “After all, if what we discussed about opposites attracting holds true, then maybe this Lord Macaulay deserves another chance.”
“It is one thing to hold opposing views in a way that invites debate. However, it is entirely another thing to be patronizing about the views you hold and urge others to think exactly like you do,” Deborah clarified, flustered.
“She has a point.” Nicholas came to his sister’s defense. “What if they marry and he forces Deborah to give up writing?”
“I will speak to him about it,” Peter assured. “Lord Macaulay is a sensible man. I am sure he will allow it if it means so much to Deborah.”
“Allow it?” Deborah snapped. “Please, I do not need the permission of any man to let me write. I am perfectly fine as I am without having anyone to answer to.”
“You cannot stay unmarried forever.” Peter frowned.
