06-25-2023, 02:12 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-25-2023, 02:18 PM by Amelia Mason.)
She was having the hardest time with looking at him, and then not looking, and then, God, she was confused by the emotions swirling around within her. She barely heard what he had to say; at the moment, she was fascinated in the movement of his hands as he pulled out the contract he had drawn up that would hopefully state her part as much as his. She didn't reach out immediately, her eyes kind of drifted toward a place that was unlikely to have gotten her attention so much and that was his mouth. For the moment, she was trying to keep from imagining what it would feel to be kissed.
She would not, however, give him that chance if he so happened to notice the moment she started to actually yearn for the answers only he could give her for the way her eyes questioned. In fact, she could not help but to give a step back and pivot, trying to save face by addressing the footmen, "Please tell cook the food is lovely, but I am afraid I am quite full." Never mind that they had yet for their third, fourth, and fifth courses. She had no idea what was made since all of it was a surprise. The two footmen exchanged glances, as they had never seen their former friend and now employer so very flustered. She wasn't fooling them either. Nate might even be able to catch a glimpse of the way they smirked knowingly once they both decided it wasn't about the food.
The attraction between Nate and Amelia was almost palpable the way it radiated between them... at least to the onlooker. They both snapped to attention then and, both trying very hard not to grin and to look stoic, took the plates away quietly while Amelia stood there giving herself a moment to come back to reality.
"It does not matter of my... form of worship. I'll go to church, of course, but I'll leave which one up to you. My faith is..." she paused. How did one say in this day and age that faith was hogwash? Or at least hers. Faith certainly didn't do much for her as she grew up the daughter of a Vicar, one who seemed completely incapable of demonstrating love toward his only daughter but bestowing the lot of it to her twin.
She then just simply waved it off like it didn't matter. For the moment, it did not. She then took the offering, the paper that was tied with a ribbon. "Then to the Library, shall we?" She started to read the paper as she began to lead the way, and it would only take a few moments before they were up the first flight of the grand staircase and off to the left wing, where the library door sat ajar. She led him in. It was a massive room and it consisted of the three remaining stories of the manse. There were books from floor to ceiling, and a ladder leaning against the shelves. It was a well loved room, the furniture and ladders, all the books clean yet the smell of library was quite distinct. She moved toward the desk that sat in front of the most beautiful stained glass window, one that was clearly older than the house. The rainbow of colors cascaded through the panes, casting their multicolored glory against her as well as the things in front of it, the floor beyond the desk, and even part of the shelves on either side of the door.
And she wasn't looking at any of it at the moment, a shame really since it deserved to be admired just as much as she. She went for the quill pen, one where the feather was just barely there anymore, but it had been Constance's favorite piece for some reason... what was it, it belonged to the someone important and it was rarely used. Constance had taught Amelia how to write using such a pen, that one must seal the ink with sand, and it just seemed appropriate to sign the contract that had been drawn up for her. First, though, she read and saw nothing that bothered her about the contract. Without another word, she scratched her name in feminine handwriting that said much about the fact she'd been educated well, and then she offered the quill over. Did he even know how to use a quill pen or was he more into the pens they had around these days? "If you would prefer a different pen, there are others," she said unnecessarily, for it wasn't hard to see that Constance had been very much a pen collector, and there were at least four of them scattered on the desk. Good quality ones.
She would not, however, give him that chance if he so happened to notice the moment she started to actually yearn for the answers only he could give her for the way her eyes questioned. In fact, she could not help but to give a step back and pivot, trying to save face by addressing the footmen, "Please tell cook the food is lovely, but I am afraid I am quite full." Never mind that they had yet for their third, fourth, and fifth courses. She had no idea what was made since all of it was a surprise. The two footmen exchanged glances, as they had never seen their former friend and now employer so very flustered. She wasn't fooling them either. Nate might even be able to catch a glimpse of the way they smirked knowingly once they both decided it wasn't about the food.
The attraction between Nate and Amelia was almost palpable the way it radiated between them... at least to the onlooker. They both snapped to attention then and, both trying very hard not to grin and to look stoic, took the plates away quietly while Amelia stood there giving herself a moment to come back to reality.
"It does not matter of my... form of worship. I'll go to church, of course, but I'll leave which one up to you. My faith is..." she paused. How did one say in this day and age that faith was hogwash? Or at least hers. Faith certainly didn't do much for her as she grew up the daughter of a Vicar, one who seemed completely incapable of demonstrating love toward his only daughter but bestowing the lot of it to her twin.
She then just simply waved it off like it didn't matter. For the moment, it did not. She then took the offering, the paper that was tied with a ribbon. "Then to the Library, shall we?" She started to read the paper as she began to lead the way, and it would only take a few moments before they were up the first flight of the grand staircase and off to the left wing, where the library door sat ajar. She led him in. It was a massive room and it consisted of the three remaining stories of the manse. There were books from floor to ceiling, and a ladder leaning against the shelves. It was a well loved room, the furniture and ladders, all the books clean yet the smell of library was quite distinct. She moved toward the desk that sat in front of the most beautiful stained glass window, one that was clearly older than the house. The rainbow of colors cascaded through the panes, casting their multicolored glory against her as well as the things in front of it, the floor beyond the desk, and even part of the shelves on either side of the door.
And she wasn't looking at any of it at the moment, a shame really since it deserved to be admired just as much as she. She went for the quill pen, one where the feather was just barely there anymore, but it had been Constance's favorite piece for some reason... what was it, it belonged to the someone important and it was rarely used. Constance had taught Amelia how to write using such a pen, that one must seal the ink with sand, and it just seemed appropriate to sign the contract that had been drawn up for her. First, though, she read and saw nothing that bothered her about the contract. Without another word, she scratched her name in feminine handwriting that said much about the fact she'd been educated well, and then she offered the quill over. Did he even know how to use a quill pen or was he more into the pens they had around these days? "If you would prefer a different pen, there are others," she said unnecessarily, for it wasn't hard to see that Constance had been very much a pen collector, and there were at least four of them scattered on the desk. Good quality ones.
