Second Chances; A Regency Story (For Anna)

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair turned from his inspection of a painting hung over the mantelpiece, and his lips curved into a polite, perfectly proper smile. "Quite well, thank you Miss Hennessy," he said. His thumb made a subtle sweep over the rim of the hat he now carried beneath his arm as he took a breath, recalling himself to his intentions.

"I am so restored by your excellent nursing that I wished to repay you. If you are amenable, I thought that a ride in my curricle might be pleasant." Alasdair recognized that he had bypassed much of the small talk that was so fashionable among Society, but he had given it up long ago, except when completely necessary. He certainly hoped that the state the lady had seen him in for the better part of a day excused him from such nonsense.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle blushed, wondering for a moment if he might be able to read her thoughts. She was shocked that he would offer such a thing to her but couldn't imagine any ulterior motive then the one he gave. It of course was her that owed him a great deal but she wouldn't argue for fear of loosing the offer. Even if it would only be a simple morning drive that they would take, exchange pleasantries, and then move on their social obligation to each other fulfilled. "Of course. It would be my pleasure." She offered him a smile as she came up in front of him, her heart beating a bit faster than usual.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

The lady was so petite that looking down, Alasdair was left with a far better view of her spinster's cap than of her face. "Must you wear that thing?" he asked, only hearing himself once the words were out. "Do pardon me," he said, flustered with the gaping misstep of speaking so frankly. His apologetic gaze met hers. "I haven't been in polite company for some time, and though that does not excuse my ghastly behavior, it seems such a shame..." He eyed the hat again despite his best intentions.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle blushed deeper as her hands instinctively reached up to the offending article. She'd taken to wearing it at her family's country estate and hadn't given it a second thought for some time now. "I'll um, just go fetch my bonnet." She gave him a quick curtsy and hurried out of the room.

When she returned 10 minutes later, the bonnet had replaced the mob cap. Normally she would have worn the mob cap under her bonnet as was common practice, but she couldn't bring herself to leave it on after his comment.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair certainly hadn't imagined Miss Hennessy to be so biddable after her previous bold behavior, but was able to restrain himself from further comment. Mostly because the removal of that spinster's cap made her look years younger and his attention was now focused on her eyes. He blinked his own and led her outside to a fashionable curricle drawn by a pair of fine blue roans. He thought it best to leave his spirited grays behind, all things considered.

Outside, his own hat replaced atop his head, Alasdair turned to give Miss Hennessy a hand up. She was so petite, however, that he impulsively bypassed the attempt, catching her by her waist to lift her to the step. The impulse was folly, however. He was left with two handfuls of warm female and visceral memories that hadn't assailed him since before he had met Michael.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle was caught off guard by his actions and therefore left completely unprepared for his touch. Her body tensed as a shiver ran down her spine. It was the warmth of his hands upon her that made her realize just how long it had been since she'd been around any males of his quality. It took a moments pause for her to recover enough to find the step and climb into the curricle's seat. It was another moment before she could properly think and realize she'd been holding her breath. She looked down at him with round eyes that were unable to hide the emotion behind them.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair himself was affected, and though it made no sense to do so, he gave a reflexive half bow before mounting the step and taking his own seat. His mind was in all sorts of odd places as he took up the reins. When was the last time he'd so much as danced with a lady, let alone held one close? Certainly not since Michael's death, and perhaps he'd only danced with the Dowager Duchess and the occasional casual guest for years before then.

His eyes met hers for a moment when he looked over to check that she was comfortable. She had rich, deep eyes that one could get lost in and he had the unmistakable desire to draw her. Almost three years it had been since he'd done any kind of serious art and here he was imagining the lady posing for him.

Abruptly a smile fell into place as he caught himself and shuttered his thoughts. It was most improper, especially considering what he knew about Miss Hennessy's relationship with Michael. "Shall we?" he asked and looked away, giving the reins a flick. He suddenly wished he'd thought to make a list of conversation starters.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle nodded at his inquiry even if her answer was redundant. She looked ahead at his horses, observing that he easily had them in his command. She was grateful that he was far more skilled then that young man a few days ago and let her mind turn to other things. Every time he was near her body stopped listening to her mind. She knew any notion of him was out of the question yet she couldn't stop reacting as she just had. She needed to distract herself from such ill-placed desires and raked her mind for a topic to divert her attention.

"I do find myself wondering, besides driving old maids through the park, what other amusements does a gentleman such as yourself find to entertain them in London? Perhaps a night at the theatre? I can't imagine you subjecting yourself to the crush of the ballrooms. But then you are an artist, do you haunt the museums when you are not painting yourself?" She really was curious. She'd never personally known any artists, and could hardly imagine him spending his days or nights in the same fashion as those that she used to be surrounded by.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

And there was his list of conversation starters, all at once. Most men would have balked at so many questions, but each was interesting enough to be valid. "I haven't been to the theatre in years," he admitted. "I have seen few Operas, but find them... soul-taking." He glanced aside at Miss Hennessy, struck again by the emotions so apparent on her face. She seemed genuinely interested or he would have stopped there.

"I used to adore balls, but there comes a time when the glamour is no longer enough. No, you are most correct with the latter. Museums are a haven for me. In fact... have you heard of the Elgin marbles?" He hadn't intended to broach the subject so soon, but it felt right and his instincts rarely led him astray. The final shipment of the marbles had been the year that Michael died, but they had yet to be shown.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle nodded. "The ones brought over from Athens, correct?" The marbles had struck up controversy and she had heard them mentioned on various occasions. She didn't quite grasp what art and the whole political sphere had to do with each other but regardless they sounded interesting. The one thing the country lacked was the museums with all their displays. Many country homes had their own galleries but she'd seen all the art the estates near her had to offer for years.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"Correct," Alasdair verified with a nod of the head. "I have been fortunate enough to view them and they are fascinating. They are by no means the perfect ideal which so many replicate in ballrooms and galleries, but are more fascinating for the damage done to them. They feel like history, a link to the past, beauty with character beyond well-sculpted anatomy." Alasdair's eyes glittered with interest as he looked aside at Miss Hennessy, hardly aware of having spoken so much.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

"You must have some excellent connections, I heard rumor that they were guarded better then the King himself." Annabelle only realized how silly that remark was after she'd spoken. Of course he had good connections, the man was living in the ducal residence after all, and had managed to become guardian of the next Duke of Hardt. She sat back in the seat, facing forward and watching the rhythm of the horses as she willed herself not to blush.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I made a series of drawings for the earl before his decision to have the marbles transported," Alasdair said, a bit of pride tingeing the already poorly-smothered excitement of the statement. "He is quite the connoisseur of antiquities and appreciated my own interest in them." He stopped speaking at that, his next confession simple enough to guess, and debated with himself whether it would be appropriate to ask her on a slightly longer journey than he had already declared, or if he should return shortly to Hardt House and take the children picnicking instead.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

"Do you find yourself attracted to all different forms of art then?" Her attention was drawn back to him by his words. He apparently had been oblivious to her rude comment, either that or had ignored it. Whichever the case, she was grateful for the continued stimulating conversation. She found him much easier to talk to then the women of the haunt ton she had been forced to endure the previous night at a poor excuse for a musical. "I haven't known any true artists and I always wondered if your skills made you partial to your own profession, or if it made you appreciate all forms of art with a studied eye."

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair looked aside at Miss Hennessy, his eyes glittering more green than usual with his interest. "There is art in everything," he said, then turned his gaze forward again. "I am attracted to all of it, though of course I have certain mediums I prefer. Some do focus in one area or another as in anything, but skill comes from interest, at least in my case." Alasdair found himself in better spirits than he had been in for ages, excepting his time with the children. He spoke with few enough people as it was, and her interest, which seemed so genuine, was easy to respond to.

"And we have arrived," he said, turning into the line of carriages and barouches at the park. Whatever question he might have had in return was forgotten at the full realization of what he was doing. The ton was waiting with quizzing glasses in hand to devour the scandal of his daring to appear in public.