Moth Among Butterflies

CHAPTER VIII

Did he hear right? 'Just like you' she said. Whatever could that mean then?! Does she, by all that is heavenly, harbor a certain deep regard towards him?! But, say she does, that would be for Seth Green the groom! What happens to Seth Cavendish the Duke of  Devonshire then? Was he to be beaten by a mere retainer just because he was an unmitigated coward? No. This is not to be! He must believe her words, and tell her who he really is.

"Esther, what if…" He hesitated in a moment of uncertainty, but he could not back down now. Esther's full attention was upon him. Blast this foolish spinelessness that her presence produced! "What if the duke of Devonshire was actually home right now?"

Esther stopped chewing a biscuit, the other side of her cheek still plump with half-chewed food.

'Then I should give him our gratitude for intruding his house!'

The worried waitress immediately headed for the door, but she was halted by Cavedish's grip on her wrist.

"Come with me." He said and led her out the door himself.

Esther and the duke arrived in a hallway where portraits hung on one side of the wall generously lit by the windows opposing it. They desisted walking in front of the duke's portrait himself.

"This is the portrait of the duke of Devonshire painted a year ago. There are two of these. The other one is in Bellsover castle in Derbyshire where he resides permanently."

Esther examined the portrait carefully. Conspicuous red hair, steely gray eyes, a strong presence and domimeering countenance. She looked back at him then at the portrait then at him once again. Her eyes widened. There were no words. Both simply stared at each other awaiting a response from their companion. But the duke decided to break the ice first.

"Esther," he started, "My full name is David Christian James Anthony Seth Cavendish the current Duke of Devonshire. But I am still the Seth you know, nonetheless! My most sincere apologies for decieving you. Please believe me it was not meant. It was only that I found your company…refreshing, and I feared that we may grow apart if I were to tell you who I really am. But I only wish to hide nothing from you anymore so-"

His explanation was cut by the sudden hand that touched his cheek. Esther examined his visage closely. She tilted his head gently from one side to the other, so she would get a good look. She stared at his eyes before looking at the portrait again. Stepping away, she did a low featly curtsy. It was a most graceful one that he almost thought it was not Esther who produced the exertion. Truly she could manage to be around anyone: rich, poor, even ruffians!

'Let's go finish our biscuits and berries, Seth.' she flashed the pad, and turned towards the library as if nothing of great importance happened.

The duke gaped (which is most ungentlemanly of him) at the reading waitress. She was deeply immersed in this book about the different types of plants of the East and their apparent usages. But he could not help but notice the birth of this certain shine in her totality since a while ago. Her reaction towards his dukedom was very unexpected. He thought she would immediately step out of the lodge or throw a tantrum of some sort, but alas! He has done her injustice for having such thoughts.

But what did she think of him now? Besides books, does he not occupy that pretty head of hers? Does he not affect her in any way? He is the Duke of Devonshire! Yet he stood powerless in front of this woman. He was used to debutantes who were after his title. They were easy to read, to manipulate. But this woman did not care whether he was a duke nor a stable hand. He was just a man- austere and powerless. And he felt a certain weight on his heart.

What will he do then when he must go back to Derbyshire? Will he leave Esther? Can he? It was awful to think that after this heaven sent aquaintance, they would just separate ways as if strangers once again. Will she remember him? Will she feel sadness? Will she long for his return? But he was only a man to her, a friend perhaps. And she has a lot of those surely because of her jolly disposition.

What if another man came then? Will she help him as she did to himself at The Ram's? Will she check his temperature when he was unwell? Will she hold his hand for comfort? Will she tell him her secret as well? Will she show him that beautiful gap-tooth smile? No. He was afraid of all these. Terrified. He has no power over her, no control. But he wanted her to always be there, to never leave his side. He had never felt scared of someone leaving him. Uncertainty. Restlessness. Listlessness. Now he knew how those women felt when he left the room in the morning after a night of utter bliss.

"Esther," he whispered while he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Esther already stood in front of a shelf to return the book she was reading. She had her back on him when he did this uncouth action. "What becomes of us? Where does our relationship stand?"

At this the waitress turned to face the duke, breaking the hug. Yet the distance between them was still very close that he felt her heavy breathing. She did not look him in the eyes. It looked very uncomfortable for her, but he did not plan on retreating without any answer.

"Nod for a yes and shake your head for no, alright?" He commanded, and Esther conceded. The duke placed his forhead on hers while he held both her arms.

"Are we nothing but friends?"

The duke closed his eyes, his breathing slow but heavy. Then he felt Esther's head tilt to a nod.

"Don't nod. Please shake your head! Please!" he beseeched.

Another nod.

Seth opened his eyes and lifted her head so that he could see her reaction. Watery eyes. What does this mean?

"Is it my title? You think it will ruin me to marry a waitress? I care not about that! (His forhead was against hers again.) I can make my mother- anyone -accept you! They will!"

She shook her head and managed to scribble thus;

'There is someone I could not leave behind back home. I have to stay. You are a duke. You can find someone deserving of yourself.'

Esther pulled the necklace that was hidden by the turtleneck of her dress. It was a small golden cross and rose pendant, the rose having a small emerald in the middle. Cavendish only watched as she removed it from her neck only to put it around his. Then she held his cheek and searched his bewildered eyes with her endearing ones before scribbling;

'Remember me instead. I existed with you and in your heart for a brief moment of beatitude.'

And the duke, after all this, saw the first tears of an emotion he umderstood not trickle down her face.