He asked to see me this afternoon. I had prepared myself for his visit, draping the shawl tightly around my chest before he arrived. I would not risk my honour by misleading him, filling his filthy mind with ideas he was prone to entertain the moment he took a look at me.
"Miss Ambrosia."
There would never come a time where I would not be able to recognize that hoarse voice, the way in which it unpleasantly boomed out in the room as he stepped inside. I nodded curtly at him, stealing a quick glance at his appearance. He looked as strapping and smug as ever. Was it possible for the air to grow thick with my sheer disgust at his pretentious manner?
"Good afternoon, Mr Gilbert," I said, plastering a faint yet charming smile I had been forced to fake many a time during social affairs.
He sat himself beside me, inches too close, and I edged away from him, reminding him of boundaries he dare not cross without my consent.
Foolish man, I thought with a sneer, as he clasped my hand and lifted it to his foul mouth. It took every ounce of dignity in me to not shudder at the touch of his dry lips against my skin. I would have to cleanse myself later.
"My lady, my Ambrosia," he whispered, his calloused fingers intertwining with mine.
"Mr Gilbert, with all due respect, I am not your lady," I exclaimed, standing up in haste. "You seem to forget yourself before me."
"Miss Ambrosia, your ties with me..." he began to protest.
"Whatever ties you speak of, Mr Gilbert, have not been permitted by my father as of yet," I replied, barely hiding my fury. "It would do you well to remember that on the next occasion you choose to shamelessly affront me."
"I beg you, Miss Ambrosia - "
"We remain strictly acquainted, Mr Gilbert," I interrupted brusquely.
At my last word, he was on his feet, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief.
"I deeply apologize, Miss Ambrosia," he insisted, his voice softening at the mention of my name. I could not bring myself to meet his gaze, dark and piercing my eyes for a hint of longing he must have realized, surely, he was only delusional to hope for. "Do forgive my error of judgement. I have been so - "
"Very well, Mr Gilbert. I am sure you have made other arrangements for the day," I murmured, looking away.
He nodded, disinclined to correct me. As he bowed down, I wondered suddenly what would become of my future, to join in marriage with this man. To attend dinners and balls on his arm as his ... his wife. How could Father allow that for me? How could he seal my fate with an ignoramus?
"Good afternoon, Miss Ambrosia. It was, as always, an absolute pleasure," he gushed.
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