A Bet On Hearts [Romantic Comedy]

Chapter 7: The Angel's Dignity

A/N: I dedicate this chapter to my dear friend  @EvilMaybeWriter whose character Eunie made me think about her a lot while writing this passage. May your quill bring in more heroes that leave a profound mark on us!

May 1811

Royston arched an eyebrow and regarded his mother with a teasing smile. "Indeed, I'd never have thought I'd see the day when my dear mother would once again be wielding the cutlery for me."

Polly's brow furrowed slightly as she set down the cutlery. "Indeed, I had harboured the hope that by your present age, it would be your wife performing such duties for you," she riposted, maintaining the same refined tone.

"I offer you my sincere apologies for being a profound disappointment in matters of matrimony, mama," Roy replied, taking his fork with a graceful hand and delicately probing the cooked meat, which, in all honesty, resembled a shoe sole in both appearance and texture.

Nevertheless, he delicately placed a morsel of it alongside a sliver of carrot in his mouth, regarding it as a gracious gift from the Almighty Himself. Skipping luncheon due to the visit from the physician and the ensuing discomfort from his recently adjusted elbow, Roy's arm now found itself gently cradled and secured with a pristine white cloth tied about his neck. He had been sternly instructed to grant it the utmost repose, a task most daunting for an active gentleman such as he.

Polly cast a discerning gaze upon him before she ventured, "The nature of you being a disappointment shall be determined at a later juncture, of that there is no doubt. But mayhap we should return to the matter that unfolded in the attic to ascertain it?"

Royston was grateful to be chewing at that moment, for he could perceive an unusual tremor coursing beneath the normally steadfast earth beneath his feet. Swallowing with a deliberate effort, he ventured forth, striving to infuse his words with an air of nonchalance, "Pray, did Miss Haswell allude to anything of consequence over luncheon?"

Polly, her brow furrowing further, countered, "Pray, sir, why would she be compelled to speak of aught during luncheon?"

Royston delicately partook of another morsel, offering a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

Observing her son's evident avoidance of the subject, she lifted her voice, tinged with concern: "See, Royston, Miss Haswell declined the luncheon fully and had her supper sent into her chamber. So, pardon my intrusion if I inquire in all candour – what transpired between you and the young miss? What words were exchanged to distress her so profoundly?"

"My, my," Roy began with lips curved into a wry smile, "from the expressions adorning your countenance one might assume you believe that I had her thoroughly ravished up there. However, that is not what transpired, and I must confess my surprise at the very notion taking root in your mind. You, dear mother, above all others, should possess an intimate understanding of the man I am."