@governessward
James had sat quietly throughout most of the auction, occasionally responding to other men’s remarks about the women’s bids and behaviours, doing his best not to show any opinion. A quick “Of course.” here and an agreeing nod there and he made it through the entire bidding process without giving away anything at all.
When it came time for his basket, James only gave half his attention. He listened enough to know who bid and when it was over, but the process itself felt so strange and foreign. He preferred to observe in the background rather than to be the centre of attention and, even though it was anonymous, when his basket was held up it felt like there were gazes he couldn’t shake.
As the words, “Sold to Miss Agatha Ward”, rang out James took note, thankful it was a name he recognized so he didn’t have to reveal himself in the moment by looking around to see who the winner was.
After the auction was over and the crowd started to disperse, James made his way over to Agatha, indigo picnic blanket draped over his right arm and basket in hand.
“It’s nice to see you again Miss Ward,” James smiled. He offered her his left arm. “I spotted a pleasantly shaded area over by the river if no one’s beaten us to it yet.”