by C Jane Reid
“I believe we settled on it being the holiday magic and the cocktails.”
“It had to be the G&Ts asking. He had drank rather a lot of them.”
Lola had her doubts. “So that makes four proposals for last year? With one acceptance.”
Willa sighed dramatically.
The quartet began the next set. The Portage Club was busy even this late at night. In the two weeks since Lola and her mother had come to the Regal Rose Hotel, she’d watch the nightclub become more popular. It had been so empty on New Year’s Eve during the hotel’s grand opening event. Though, thinking back on it, most of the attendees hadn’t been the usual nightclub sort. It had been easy to make new acquaintances, especially with Vera’s help, and Brandon had latched on to them quickly. Lola hadn’t minded, as Willa had said, Brandon was charming in a goofy sort of way.
The dapper gentleman in question, the one with slick-backed dark hair and a thin mustache, cut through the crowd at the edge of the dance floor, paused when he saw them, and headed toward their seats with a delighted smile.
“Willa,” Lola warned, “here he is now.”
Willa closed her mouth with a snap as Brandon joined them.
“Miss Maitlyn,” he said to Willa with a flourish of a bow that had Lola wondering if he hadn’t already tipped back a few. “Miss Rose,” he greeted with equal enthusiasm, though his dark blue eyes remained fixed on Willa.
“Mr. Darring,” Willa said in return, though a touch unsettled. “What a surprise.”
“Is it?” He smoothed his perfectly tidy mustache with his finger, but the gesture looked more uncertain than suave. “I thought I had mention that I’d be here tonight. Did I not?”
“Oh, yes, you did,” Willa said too quickly. She glanced at Lola for help, but Lola only grinned and sat back to watch. Willa frowned at her.
“May I?” Brandon Darring pulled a third chair over to their little nook and sat. “You left so quickly last night that I hadn’t the chance to apologize for New Year’s Eve. I was rather forward, wasn’t I?”
“A bit, I’d say.”
“It was rash of me, but then again, the night was too grand,” Brandon told her. “And you were so lovely.”
Willa laughed too loudly.
“It’s perfectly true,” he argued with good humor. “I could list all of your many fine attributes—”
“Oh, please don’t,” Willa interrupted with a look of alarm.
“We’ll be here all night if you try,” Lola told him. “There are far too many.” She glanced between them. “Brandon— May I call you Brandon?” She went on before he could answer. “Be a good fellow and fetch us another round. And a few of those little sandwiches,” she added. “Mickey has my tab running.”
“Nonsense,” Brandon told her as he stood. “I would never allow a lady to pay for her drink.”
“Then pay for Willa’s and put mine on my tab.” Lola turned away from him before he could protest. He hesitated before crossing toward the bar.
“He certainly is pleased to see you,” Lola observed.
“He is, isn’t he?” Willa was watching as Brandon moved toward the bar. “Maybe he’s come to ask to be released from the, ah, thing.” Willa toyed with the pale lace hanging from the modest neckline of her jade dress.
“Do you think?” Lola could not see it, not with the way Brandon had been looking at her friend.
Brandon returned with the requested drinks and nibbles. He set the plate on the low, round table next to them as he held out the tray of drinks, perfectly poised on his spread fingers.
“Your drinks, ducks.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” Lola accepted hers. When Willa hesitated, Brandon plucked the glass from the tray and held it out for her.
“Darling.”
Lola had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at the look on Willa’s face.
“I do apologize that I haven’t called sooner,” Brandon told Willa. “You must think me a right blighter.”
“Oh, no,” Willa stammered. She looked again to Lola, who took pity on her.
“You did seek her out last night, though. How ever did you learn Willa would be here?” Lola asked Brandon.
“I admit it took longer than I’d thought,” Brandon said, crossing his long legs. He looked a bit ridiculous folded into the small, rounded chair, though he seemed perfectly comfortable. “I made mention of you to my aunt,” he told Willa, “who made mention of you to my mother, and then by the mystical arts of society gossip, I learned that you might visit the Portage Club.”
Willa frowned. “Who told you such a thing? I barely knew it myself until a few hours before I came.”
“My mother is a devious old girl,” Brandon said with a chuckle. “And she happened to visit your mother after dinner and heard someone order the car for the Regal Rose Hotel. I couldn’t imagine anyone else in your family going.”
“Your mother knows Willa’s mother?” Lola asked.
“Yes. They came out at the same time.”
“You didn’t tell her about, er, that night, did you?” Willa asked weakly.
“I wouldn’t dare without you.” Brandon gave them both a winsome smile. “Though I’m afraid my mother might have the idea we are something more to one another than—” Brandon flushed. Lola couldn’t believe it. He was embarrassed.
How sweet.
“More than a New Year kiss?” Lola fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Brandon coughed. “I swear I spoke not a word of it.”
“Don’t be daft, Brandon, of course we believe you.” Lola patted his hand.
He cocked his head at her. “You know? About the, er, thing?”
“Willa needed to confide in a close friend about the, ah, thing.” If they were going to refuse to say the actual word then they had to come up with a better name.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Willa said to him.
“No, no, not at all. You’d certainly wish to tell your closest friend.”
Silence followed. Lola sipped her cocktail and watched the two. It was almost painful to see how carefully they were acting around each other, but not so painful as to ignore the humor in it.
Time to take the matter in hand.
“It is so exciting to think of all the sorts of parties and celebrations we’ll have in the coming weeks,” she said to them both. “First the party to make the official announcement, then the dinners with families, the cocktails with friends, and so on. I’ve been listening to my mother go on about it since her own engagement.” Lola grinned. “Imagine that. Two of the ladies closest to my heart engaged on the same night.”
“Yes,” Willa said, eying Brandon. “Imagine that.”
“Parties, you say?” Brandon considered.
“And dinners,” Willa said.
“With the families,” Lola stressed.
Brandon sat up in alarm. “I say, I never thought to speak to the Earl first.” He looked stunned.
Willa winced. “I can’t say he’ll like that.”
“What do we do?”
As one, the two looked to Lola.
“You know,” Lola said, taken by a thought. She had to speak louder as the quartet went into a jazzier number. “I’ve had a rather marvelous idea.”
“Have you?” Willa asked, hopeful.
“If you were to break things off,” Lola said, watching both closely, “No one need ever know.” Brandon sat up with alarm. Willa ducked her head. “Then I expect life would go on as it normally does when it comes to such, ah, things.”
“How do you mean?” Brandon asked.
“Won’t your parents want to continue introducing you to potential husbands?” Lola asked Willa. Brandon didn’t seem to like that idea at all.
“Yes. It is rather tedious, especially the dinners and teas Mummy insists I attend in her quest for the perfect son-in-law.” Willa paused, rolling her glass between her hands before taking a healthy drink. Her eyes widened again then narrowed into a devious expressi
on. Lola nodded at her encouragingly.
“It would be lovely to avoid all of that,” Willa added in a more certain tone.
Lola sat back. “And have you an idea how to do so?”
“Excuse me, but I’m afraid I’ve lost track of the conversation,” Brandon said. He did look confused, and it was an endearing sight on him, though it would have been better without the mustache. “Aren’t you the one with the idea, Miss Rose?”
“It’s Lola, and yes, I do have an idea, but I find it so much more thrilling to watch another come up with the same idea on her own. Am I right, Willa?”
“You are very right, Lola.”
“Right about what, exactly?” Brandon asked, still baffled.
Willa faced him, and Lola hid her smile with a sip of her cocktail.
“Brandon,” Willa said in a serious tone, “I’ve a proposal for you.”
Lola nearly choked on her drink as Brandon’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.
Willa waited patiently for the two to gather themselves.
“Go on,” Brandon finally said, though the words were strained.
“If your parents,” Willa said, “are anything like my parents, then Mummy and the Earl, or in your case, your mother and the Viscount, will want us handcuffed to a seemly significant other before the year’s barely begun.”
Brandon downed half his gin and tonic in one gulp.
“I have no intention of being paraded before an upright line of suitors only interested in the rank of my father and the size of my inheritance,” Willa continued. “Do you?”
“No, no, not at all. I hope you understand it was not the driving force to my rash—”
“But lovely,” Willa interjected.
“—speech on New Year’s. Did you really think so? That it was lovely?” The hopeful expression on Brandon’s face was too rich.
“It was the finest I’ve had.”
He grinned, then his smile fell. “You’ve had others?”
“Whyever did you ask, Brandon?” Lola asked. They both gave her a long look. “What?”
“No one says ‘whyever’ anymore, Lola,” Willa told her.
“Some phrases should be reintroduced.” Lola focused back on Brandon. “Whyever,” she emphasized, “did you propose? Besides the fact that our Willa is the catch of a lifetime.”
Willa blushed.
“We were getting on so well,” Brandon admitted. “And, naturally, considering how lovely and, er, sweet . . .” He let the thought trail off as he grew uncomfortable with their full attention upon him. “I couldn’t let the chance pass by, now could I?”
“And that is why my proposal,” Willa said, emphasizing the word, “will be brilliant.” She leaned forward and put her hand over Brandon’s much larger one. “We, you and I, play the courting couple.”
“We’ll play at what?”
“You and I put on a show that we’re quite curious about one another and trying on the possibility.”
“Haven’t we already passed that point?”
“No one else knows it, though,” Lola told him.
“So you want to break off the engagement?” Brandon’s expression was so crestfallen that Lola ached for him. Willa had a way out if she wished it. It was probably for the best, Lola thought, because making it into a game if Brandon had true feelings for Willa would be too cruel.
Lola was shocked when Willa immediately deny it. “Oh, no, that isn’t what I mean at all.” She tempered her voice. “It’s the show that matters, you see. The Earl and Viscount are likely to take time to approve any sort of understanding between us, and our mothers would be ever so upset to miss the opportunity to meddle.”
“Ah, I see.” Brandon nodded with a smile. “We keep the engagement quiet. Work up to it. I say, Willa, this is a brilliant idea. Simply brilliant.” He was bouncing excitedly in his seat. “Now I can do all of those little things I missed by asking you so quickly.”
He beamed at Willa, and she grinned in return. He flipped his hand over and lightly grasped Willa’s. “Shall we begin at once?”
“Oh, I think we should go slowly,” Willa said, coquettishly pulling her hand from his. “We’ve only just met again after a smashing evening full of drink and high spirits. But now that we have, you find me intriguing and I find you dashing, and so you ask me to dance.”
“I do?”
“Yes. And you asked so sweetly, dear Brandon, that I simply couldn’t refuse.” Willa stood. “Shall we?”
Baffled, Brandon stood with her. Lola saw the moment he understood when a wide smile creased his face. He wasn’t the handsomest of men, but he did have a quality that was both attractive and comfortable and perfectly suited to Willa.
“Willa, my sweet, will you dance?” he asked belatedly.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Brandon tucked her arm in his and led her to the dance floor as the quartet started another jazzy tune.
Lola took a sip of her drink and sat back to watch. Brandon was a fine dancer and attentive to Willa, who made up for her lack of skills with her enthusiasm.
She grinned at the song they danced to.
Ev’ryone wanted to know how she could pick such a beau . . .
It truly was delicious that it had worked out and better than she’d supposed. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest course to try to keep them together, but seeing Willa with Brandon and the way he looked at her and the way she smiled at him made Lola think it could turn out right in the end.
She looked around the club in time to see Gordie walk through the door. She was pleased to see he was alone.
“Gordie,” she greeted after crossing to him. “How wonderful you came. And looking so dashing.”
He was dashing, too, dressed in a black, pinstriped suit, his dark hair left wavy to fall across his brow. His empty right sleeve was pinned to his coat once again, the end tucked into the pocket.
She held out her hand, the left again, to take his.
“Lola, you look smashing.”
“I do, don’t I.” She shifted her hips to make the short skirt flare. “I do love this dress. It’s my first chance to wear it.”
“It is a great success. Did I keep you waiting long?”
“Not at all. Brandon and Willa kept me entertained.” She examined the dance floor to see them moving away from it, walking close, but not too close. “Come meet them.”
Introductions went quickly. Brandon and Gordie quickly found a common interest in rugby and discussed the upcoming season. Willa rolled her eyes and took up with Lola on the latest hat styles, making sure to emphasize each phrase between the gents’ replies to one another.
“I surrender,” Brandon told her. “No more talk of sports.”
“On no, do continue,” Willa said. “I so love to listen to topics I have no interest in.”
She smiled at him and raised her glass before taking a sip.
“You are not subtle, Willa,” Lola told her.
“When one has to compete for attention of The Earl, subtlety is hardly effective.”
“I concede the point.”
“I believe the ladies should continue their discussion, though,” Gordie said. “I found it fascinating. Are you certain feathers are going out of fashion?”
Lola and Willa laughed.
“Oh!” Lola stood. “There’s Jack.”
Everyone turned to watch Jack Edgars enter the club.
“And Herr Prinz,” Lola added with much less enthusiasm. The pompous man was standing near the wall past the door, a tumbler in hand as he watched the dance floor.
Willa frowned. “He does enjoy taking risks, doesn’t he?”
“Why do you say that?” Brandon asked.
“I’d say over half the men in the club served during the war.”
Lola glanced to Gordie to find him glaring at the German. She touched his arm.
“I apologize,” he said, drawing his attention away from the German. “I shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
&nb
sp; “Funny, I was having the same thoughts about myself earlier.”
“You were?”
“And I was hardly touched by the war. Nothing like you.” She stood. “But come meet Jack. He served with my cousin in the AEF.”
“I never had the chance to see the Americans in action. I’d already been invalided out.”
Lola led him, and the others, as Willa and Brandon rose to follow, to where Jack was scanning the scene.
“Jack.” She held out her hand and he shook it. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.”
“Checking out the club seemed a better idea than sitting alone.”
“Oh? Was your friend not home?”
“No. He’s working tonight.”
Lola introduced everyone. No one noticed Jack’s maimed hand until he and Gordie eyed one another, wondering how to shake and settling on inclining their heads. Then laughing.
“Aren’t we the pair,” Gordie said.
“We’ve two good arms between us,” Jack agreed. He shifted to stand next to Gordie, their maimed sides brushing. “There. All set.”
Everyone laughed.
“What’s this?” Vera came up to them. “I’m just in time. Hello there,” she said to Jack. “Vera Tracy.”
Lola made another round of introductions.
“There,” she said afterwards. “We are all acquainted, and now I need my drink.”
“I’ll get you a fresh one,” Gordie said.
She smiled, noticing his leap to lay claim. “That’s so sweet, but I want to have a word with Mickey.” She was just as quick to dodge the claim.
A fact that didn’t go unnoticed. “I could use a drink, too. Shall we?” He extended his arm.
Lola chuckled. “Yes, we shall.” She laid her hand in a friendly manner on his arm, and this time Gordie chuckled.
“Ooo,” Vera cooed, “Lola and the mastery of the sidestep.” She sidled up to Jack. “You won’t find me nearly so standoffish.”
He looked startled, then settled into an appreciative look. “And I won’t play hard to get.” He held out his arm, and Vera tucked into it.
“What was that, Brandon?” Willa asked. “Dance with you again? I’d be delighted.”
Brandon blinked, but he wasn’t as slow to understand as before. “Excellent.” He held out his arm and together they returned to the dance floor.
