Everett

It was well past midday when the men returned the horses to the stable. They hadn’t spent much time talking on their ride, but they had ridden hard. Everett had been thinking about Henry making an offer for Lucy. It has seemed the logical thing to do for the couple. Although he was certain of his affections for May, he couldn’t help but feel anxious about Henry and Lucy’s wedding announcement.

He knew he’d had banns read thrice for he and Lucy. She was indeed beautiful inside and out. Henry was a lucky man. What was he thinking? He felt like a traitor. He needed to arrange for their cancellation as soon as he could. Again, logic said it was the right thing to do, but dread lodged in his chest at the thought.

“If we hurry and clean up, we could meet the ladies for high tea today,” Simon mentioned as they walked back to the manor. “Otherwise, you could ask for a tray to be brought to your room.”

Everett hurried to his room and through his preparations. With a snap of his pocket watch, he realized he was at least a half an hour early. He wanted to make the time together memorable and decided to write a poem to surprise May.

Although he felt a strong connection to her, he found it difficult to write anything personal. He jotted down a poem. It was short but passable. It had taken him longer than he anticipated to pen the four lines, and when he approached the salon, he found he was the last to arrive. His eyes immediately landed on Lucy, who was intently looking at him as well. He felt some shame at appreciating her beauty and quickly found May’s face in the group.

Everett unfolded the paper and held it in front of him. He wished it was large enough to cover his face completely. He cleared his throat and looked around the room. They were all his friends. He really didn’t have a cause to worry.

“My—” His voice strained to press out the rest of the title. “Heart’s Ode.” He could feel the heat rise up his neck. This had been a terrible idea. Nervousness seized him. “Well it’s not really an ode, since is only four lines. And I have no intention of singing it.”

“Oh, stop stalling, and read the poem,” Lord James Cottrell called from the back.

Everett coughed in his fist, and with a shaky voice, started again. “My Heart’s Ode.

“If beauty had a face, it would be yours.” His eyes flicked to May’s. She gazed at him, and it gave him strength.

“No winds revoke the words your lips have bourne,”

“Do you mind starting again? I don’t understand the imagery so far,” James called out.

Simon snickered, but Cora elbowed him, and he quit, but his shoulders still shook violently.

“Go ahead, Everett. We’re listening,” Cora said.

“And drop like rain that through the window pours,

To nourish roses right above their thorns.”

“Does that mean you think my sister has thorns? Cause that’s the only part I’ve understood so far,” James remarked. “Sorry, old friend, but you are not a poet.”

Everett ignored James and said to May, “No. You don’t have thorns, but the roses do.”

“I assure you she does,” James said.

Henry stood. “I know I’m speaking boldly, Everett, but since you and May seem to have a connection, will you release the banns that were called for your engagement to Lucy?”

Lucy gasped. Her hands covered her mouth, and her eyes were wide as her head shook.

Everett’s heart clenched in his chest, and his mind screamed, “No!” He didn’t understand the reaction, and his answer was slow in coming. It seemed a logical thing to do as it would free both couples. But it was dishonorable for a man to cry off a wedding. Far better that a woman do it. Something deep in his heart didn’t want her to. He retreated back to logic. “I won’t sully Lucy’s reputation that way, but if she were to do it, I would not oppose it. And the sooner the better.”

Henry shook his hand. “We’re in agreement.”

Both men looked toward Lucy. Everett’s heart nearly stopped beating to see tears staining Lucy’s face and her eyes turning red. He wanted to leap across the room and comfort her, but that was Henry’s job, wasn’t it?

“Simon, I need to send a missive to retract the banns read. Will you post it for me?” Everett considered it a mere formality. Of course his host would. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Lucy was not consoled, but turned into Cora’s shoulder. Cora whispered in her ear, and Lady Cottrell joined them, forming a tight knot. Had he caused that pain? He thought so. He didn’t understand women at all.

“No,” Simon answered, then turned his back toward Everett and spoke with Lord Cottrell. This time Lucy’s mother, Lady Radnor, gasped at Simon’s refusal and looked as if she would cry too.

The door to the salon opened, and Aunt Nellie preceded two teacarts, directing them to opposite sides of the room.

Simon turned back toward Everett. “You may bring me the letter, but I’ll throw it in the fire.”

Saalfeld spun toward Simon. “Have you cause to refuse him and by extension Lucy and I?”

“I have my reasons, which someday I might reveal, but not today. I believe we’ve interrupted the ladies’ afternoon tea of which we are guests. Let’s join them.”

“But you have no right to—” Saalfeld began when Simon cut him off.

“I said no, and I mean it. Now sit and drink the tea.”

Everett wasn’t sure which made him more angry—that Simon wouldn’t perform a simple task or that he dismissed him so easily and sat beside his wife. The man had the gall to choose a lavender scone and ignored Everett completely.

He looked over at Saalfeld and saw an expression that was much the same as he felt himself. The man’s hands were fisted at his side and his elbows were locked. Everett walked purposefully behind Simon and tapped him on the shoulder. When Simon looked at him, he shoved Simon’s shoulder and said, “You’ll not stand in the way of my nuptials. I call you out, Your Grace.” Not even a duke could deny Everett his heart’s desire.

“No!” Saalfeld yelled as he stomped closer. “I call him out. I demand an apology, or we’ll meet at dawn.”

“You’ll have to wait until I dispose of him, since my claim precedes yours,” Everett said.

“Yet mine is a matter of the heart, and thereby supersedes yours. I shall draw on him first.” Saalfeld now stood toe-to-toe and Everett discerned the restrained anger on the man’s face.

“I suppose you’ll have to fight it out between yourselves to see who will kill me first or next.” Simon looked smug as he tipped his cup for a sip of tea.

Apparently the flippant remark and the outrage of the situation was more than Saalfeld could take.

Nellie sat with a cup of tea and said to no one in particular, “About two more hours, I should hope,” just as Saalfeld lunged heavily into Everett. Nellie snatched the teapot before Everett stumbled into the tea table, knocking it from its feet. Sugar cubes and scones scattered while cream soiled the carpet.

Everett kicked at Henry but didn’t connect. Henry leaped into the air, but Everett tripped backward and rolled, avoiding the attack. Saalfeld caught his foot and hung on. Everett could do no more than rise to a crouch on one foot.

“I will call Simon out!” Henry yelled as he jerked Everett’s foot backward.

Everett flipped to his back and kicked Henry in the jaw. When his foot was free, he wrestled Henry to his stomach. “It will be my satisfaction to do him in. Not yours,” Everett answered.

The men wrestled across the floor, scattering dishes and the guests. In one moment, Everett thought he had the better of Saalfeld, but then the match would flip, and Henry would pummel him. Finally, they both scrambled to their feet, and Henry charged. This time, Everett was ready and jabbed him in the side with a tight fist.

Simon moved toward the men, but Aunt Nellie’s hand reached out to stop him. “This might help, really. Let them have a go.”

Henry answered with two quick punches to Everett’s back, sending him tumbling forward. Saalfeld followed closely behind and dropped onto him, pushing him to the side, but Everett rolled with the man as they struggled across the length of the rug.

Women and other men scrambled out of their way again.

It was as if there were a larger battle raging inside of Everett than the wrestling match he was engaged in. At times, he lost focus of Saalfeld’s next move, thinking alternately of May or Lucy. He felt pulled between them—feelings of desire for May but deep, clear love for Lucy.

Henry bucked, throwing Everett off of him and receiving a kick to his back. Everett pulled Henry’s other foot out from under him and both men tumbled back across the rug. The hem of May’s dress was at his right cheek and Lucy’s at his left. The men broke apart momentarily, standing quickly. Henry stood and on instinct made a quick bow toward May, then rushed past her toward Everett.

Time stretched, and Everett felt something within him burst. He had a new clarity. So suddenly had his heart changed that he didn’t notice Henry swinging his fist toward Everett’s jaw.

Everett wondered if there were moments when Henry did the same. He appeared to stall as Everett landed a below to Henry’s face. Saalfeld reached to grab around Everett, and

Everett spun and clasped his arms around Henry’s waist, but Henry head-butted him in the nose.

All Everett could see were stars and gathering darkness. Pressure in his nose and head increased but he wouldn’t let go.

The strength in Henry’s arms gave out, and Saalfeld’s knees buckled. Everett twisted, using the man’s momentum to throw him again to the floor and land on top of him. Both men rolled off to the side to lie on their backs, panting and bloody.

Simon’s face came into view above Everett, looking down between him and Saalfeld. “Are you quite done?”

Everett looked at Saalfeld who looked back at him and nodded stiffly once.

May and Lucy ran to Everett’s side, both helping him to stand.

“We’re done.”  Everett extended his hand toward Saalfeld, helping the man up. “I’m of a different mind, Saalfeld,” Everett said. He postured toward Henry. “If you haven’t given up the notion of Lucy, this match will start anew.”

May gasped, and Henry looked at her with a stark, pained expression. His eyes never even flicked toward Lucy. “You’ll have no argument from me,” he answered.

Lucy stepped into Everett’s arms. She was right and perfect. This was his heart. He curled close to her, and she rose to her toes.

“If you hadn’t remembered me,” she whispered in his ear, “it would have shattered me to pieces.”