The butler held out an oval, silver tray and accepted the card then nodded and disappeared into the residence.
Cross turned and regarded the boxwoods growing beside her door, aware of them but not truly seeing them as he listened for the butler's return.
As if on cue, the butler appeared. "She will be out directly," he informed in a cool tone.
"Thank you." Cross nodded.
Moments later Essie made her way out the door, a young maid in tow.
"Hello, Cross." Essie's cheerful voice washed over him, heating the blood in his veins. Her lavender walking dress fluttered and swirled about her feet. When the breeze lifted a wisp of hair that peeked from beneath her hat, Cross' hands ached with longing to tear off the straw headpiece and free her hair to flow through his fingers.
Essie arched one fine brow, bringing him back to earth.
He returned her smile. "Hello, Essie. You're looking beautiful as always."
A rosy blush highlighted her creamy skin. "Thank you. But we have no one to impress right now." She shrugged and glanced away.
Cross swallowed, but pressed on. "I'm not one to compliment needlessly, Essie. While my words were indeed meant to flatter you, I was also speaking simply because they were the truth, purely stated. You are beautiful. Regardless of the company we are in, the truth does not change." He nodded and gestured for them to walk.
She didn't make a move, but seemed to study his face, her gaze roaming his features, searching his eyes. "Thank you."
Cross felt a little too vulnerable under her scrutiny, so he tried to lighten the conversation with a bit of humor. "Ah! So she does know how to take a compliment!" He teased, grinning at her.
"Ha ha," she teased and poked his arm. But she followed his lead as they descended the stairs and made their way along the street.
The air was clean from the morning's light rain; the breeze became a soft whisper that flirted with Essie's hair, teasing it and blowing wisps of it softly against her cheek.
It was utterly distracting.
In the most delicious way possible.
Glancing at the road ahead of them, Cross decided to ask the one question he most certainly didn't want to ask, but needed answered. "If you don't mind me asking, is there a particular Gentleman that you are wishing to attract, you know, with the whole idea of wanting what they can't have." He grinned, though his teeth were clenched after he spoke the words. Damn right, they can't have. Because you are mine! He wanted to shout, but he held himself in check, awaiting her answer.
Essie seemed startled slightly, but recovered, turning to glance at him, she continued walking and appeared to consider his question. "I'm not quite sure, honestly. There's Lord Renguard, Viscount Marley, and I had thought to consider Lord Marchton, but he seems particularly attached to Miss Wessel. So to answer your question, no. I have no particular gentleman in mind." She took a breath and studied the scenery as they walked in silence for a few moments.
"I see." Cross nodded. While he was thrilled that she didn't have a particular regard for a specific gentleman, he hated that she was even considering Renguard or Marley. Both of them were good enough gentlemen, but it stung to think that she'd consider them… and not him.
"I figure I have at least a bit of time to consider my options. Tell me, what do you think of Viscount Marley and Lord Renguard?" She asked, turning her blue eyes to him, inquiring innocently.
Cross tried not to grimace, because he wouldn't lie. "Both men are upstanding gentlemen." He shrugged indifferently.
"Do you have any one that you could suggest?" She asked lightly.
As if he weren't already dying on the inside from asking the first question. But he needed to know just who his competition was. He took a deep breath, and prepared himself.
"Other than myself?" Cross asked, keeping his tone light on purpose, his eyes trained on hers, searching, gauging her reaction.
Essie giggled, poking him in the arm with her gloved hand. "Aside from the obvious, of course."
"It's always nice to feel wanted." He sighed dramatically.
"Tell me about it." She spoke lightly, but she glanced away.
Cross paused. She glanced to him confused.
"Essie, while it is lovely and good to be wanted, the most important opinion of your worth, is your own. Does Essie think she's lovely and good? Does Essie think she's beautiful? Is Essie proud of the amazing woman she's become?" He lowered his chin, spearing her with an earnest gaze.
"I… hadn't quite thought of it that way." She furrowed her brow and lowered her gaze, as if deep in thought.
"Because if you like you, to hell with the rest of the world. Pardon my language." He shrugged unapologetically, grinning as she lifted her gaze to his with a slight gasp.
"Don't pretend to be so offended, you old stick," he pestered and led them back along the path towards the park.
"Me? And old stick? That's like me calling you a prude," she teased, tugging on his arm slightly.