by Kate Dolan
“Your sisters need have no worries, I believe. Your family’s estate is secure, or secure enough to see you here with the proper equipage. The earlier money troubles will be forgotten soon, if they have not been already.” Her aunt patted her hand.
Caroline was thankful no one of tomorrow’s company, not even her aunt, had seen them when they were struggling pitifully without their servants. Such sights would not have been forgotten soon, but perhaps the mere stories and rumors of financial troubles would be. Her stories, however, were a different matter. “And the additional worries, for myself, the rumors about my…absence from Hill Crest? I do not know what is known abroad, and what might have been said.”
Her aunt sighed. “The stories were not flattering, Caroline, I must confess. The most scandalous tales circulated about what you had done, and what had become of you.”
Caroline looked away as tears smarted in the corners of her eyes.
“But,” her aunt continued slowly, “the stories seemed to dwindle away soon after your return.”
Caroline looked up hopefully.
“You may credit me for this, in part. A former servant of mine, a Samuel Carpenter, was one of the men taken from Elkridge Landing and returned on that ship with you. He told me afterward your family was responsible for saving all of the men taken. He also told me that you modeled proper decorum and virtue at all times, and that all the stories about you being dressed as a boy were absolutely false.”
Caroline tried to conceal the look of surprise that must have appeared all over her face.
“Your return in an appropriate, if ragged, gown bolstered this statement,” her aunt continued. “And, now that it is obvious you did not return in an expectant state, those rumors should be put to rest as well. In any event, I took great care to share his news with my acquaintance and to instruct the servants to do likewise. Though, of course, stories that tend to rehabilitate a reputation will not spread so fast as those that tear it apart.”
“No, of course not.”
“But I believe you need have no fear, Caroline. I have saved your reputation, though I beg you not to require such efforts again.”
Chapter Forty-Two
"Sir James Davenport, Lady Davenport and Mr. Josiah Throckmorton.”
Josiah found it a bit disconcerting to be thus announced to the company while still in the process of removing cloaks and hats dripping from the cold drizzle outside. Longacre, like the other houses he had seen in Maryland, had no entrance hall; new arrivals for this evening’s dance found themselves in the center of activity in the largest and, presumably, grandest room in the house.
He glanced at his sister and had to stifle a smile as she lost her balance while her maid struggled to remove the muddy clogs from her mistress’s dancing slippers. Her public smile waned momentarily but soon recovered its customary brilliance. Although he took rather longer to recover from the shock of being as if on stage the moment they set foot through the door, Sir James regained his composure with only a slightly deeper than usual crease in his forehead to betray his discomfiture.
Before they could move far into the room, Josiah was surrounded by a crowd seeking introductions to the elegant couple. The host and hostess would have to be introduced first, so he was relieved to see Colonel and Mrs. Bennett making their way through the throng.
“Sir James, Lady Davenport, may I present Colonel Bennett and Mrs. Bennett?”
His brother-in-law bowed. “We are greatly pleased to make your acquaintance, Colonel Bennett, Mrs. Bennett.”
“It is most kind of you to entertain us in your home.”
“Thank you, Lady Davenport.” Mrs. Bennett appeared to blush slightly. “It is you who are kind to honor us with your presence.”
“What an elegant assembly you have gathered. I declare we rarely see the like, even in London. Would you not say so, Sir James?”
“What did she say about London?” Colonel Bennett asked, speaking for the first time.
Mrs. Bennett leaned in to her husband and raised her voice. “She was telling us of assemblies in London.”
“Why were you speaking of London?”
Mrs. Bennett ignored her husband and proceeded to introduce her daughter. Then she leaned over to speak into her husband’s ear. “Do send your brother over, sir, so I may introduce him to our distinguished guests.”
“What?”
Mrs. Bennett gestured toward the other side of the room. “Your brother. Please send him over so that—”
“I still can’t hear you,” Colonel Bennett muttered crossly. “You, there, with the fiddle,” he bellowed across the room, “hush up for a moment so we can talk.” His wife smacked him in the ribs. “Well, we don’t need that music yet, anyway. You won’t let anyone dance until you’ve had your minuet.”
With a look that would melt iron at a hundred paces, Mrs. Bennett stormed over to the other side of the room, speaking first to her brother-in-law and then to the disgruntled musician.
Josiah took up the thread of introductions again and gradually felt as if he had become a puppet master, speaking the same lines repeatedly for different audiences who ignored him and saw only the brightly decorated characters he introduced.
Every once in a while, he would glance around while his sister and brother-in-law exchanged pleasantries with the latest introducees. On one occasion, he spotted Caroline and her sisters with other young ladies in a corner opposite the musicians. She did not see him, but Edwina did. He smiled at her in greeting but had to turn back to his sister before he could see if she had returned the smile.
Josiah sighed when he heard the violin begin the unmistakable strains of the minuet. He had heard his host mention the dance earlier but had not fully understood he was going to have to try to remember the steps. He looked about the company; surely, there were many here who would not know the dance at all, and would not know if he missed a few steps.
Eleanor would know, of course. This was her moment to shine. Or another of them, actually. He felt he was beginning to understand why she put up with all the discomforts of travel and primitive accommodations, since she was treated with reverence bordering on worship wherever she went.
Perhaps she and her husband would dance the entire dance by themselves. But, no, he could see that Mrs. Bennett was lining up ladies on one side of the room and gentlemen on the other. Couples might dance one at a time, but many, if not all of them, would eventually have their turn.
A servant appeared at Josiah’s elbow and moved him to the head of the dance, next to his brother-in-law. He looked across and saw his partner was a young widow to whom he had been introduced last year. She was a little too plump and her face almost clownishly painted with rouge, but a not altogether unpleasing lady, he recalled. She had obviously practiced the dance, and he found he could remember enough of it, after watching his sister’s performance, to get through his own with only small difficulty.
Then it was time to watch everyone else, a time that could be most enjoyable for those who had completed the dance and who relished the opportunity to watch for others’ mistakes. Josiah, instead, looked around for the punch bowl. The introductions had left his mouth dry, but he knew he would have to wait until the dance ended. How many couples were left?
He saw that Caroline was to dance next, and she watched the current pair of dancers with fierce concentration. Her partner, one of the Carroll boys, looked across at her with a blank expression, as if at an empty wall. Josiah assumed at first he was merely bored waiting his turn; but he retained the same demeanor throughout the dance, and it appeared he never once met Caroline’s eyes. Or perhaps it was just the angle from which Josiah watched; surely, no one could be so rude in such assembled company.
After the lengthy minuet finally drew to a close, Josiah bowed politely along with the rest of the company and then bolted to the refreshment table. Only after he had started into his second cup of punch did he look about to see what would happen next.
The musicians
changed their tune and started up some sort of country dance. He moved slowly away from the table, peripherally aware of the gentlemen who filed past to seek partners and older ladies who drifted into clusters at the corners of the room. The younger ladies were spread about the room in groups of two or three as they waited to be asked to dance. And he would ask one of them. But…not just yet. He could wait for the next dance.
As couples gradually filled the floor, however, it was embarrassing to realize he was one of only a very few gentlemen who had not taken a partner. A young lady near him blinked rapidly, as if holding back tears—she, too, was one of the few of her sex not dancing.
He should have asked her to dance.
But he did not want to appear foolish, since he did not feel comfortable with the music. Perhaps the next tune would be better. Surely, she would have a partner for the next dance, and if not, he would ask her then. He sipped his punch slowly. After all, he was not yet finished with his drink.
Caroline looked at him from across the room and smiled shyly. He nodded his head and smiled in return. He should ask her to dance at some point during the evening, but not so soon as to give the impression they remained a close couple.
With a start, he realized this would probably be his best chance to examine and meet new prospects for a wife. Just as at last year’s event. As if the entire year had never happened.
He took another sip and looked around with a fresh perspective. The young lady nearest him appeared too young—at least, too young for a man in his early thirties. He required someone of about twenty years of age. Too young and she would be of no use managing the household; too old and she could be flawed in some way, else someone would have married her sooner.
How old was Caroline, exactly?
It did not matter. He knew she was flawed. Moreover, she did not care for him.
The dance ended abruptly, and a prelude to a different tune began with ominous, creaking notes. This song would be even more difficult to dance to, but he had to do his duty. He looked to his right and saw the sad girl had already secured a partner for this next dance. Was there another likely prospect nearby? The young widow he had danced with first? No, it was too soon to dance with her again.
Dancers took up their positions on the floor; it was time to select a partner. With relief, Josiah spotted Miss Bennett nearby and headed toward her with all due haste. After all, though she was too young to be a marriage prospect, decorum dictated he dance with her at least once this evening.
The poor girl colored very easily and seemed so ill-at-ease dancing he suddenly felt like the dancing master instructing a shy pupil. And she seemed so genuinely grateful for his attentions. Perhaps…
No. Too young by far. Ten years from now she still would be young enough to run off to a tavern with the stable boy. No, he needed a steady, mature lady.
Not like Caroline, who he noticed standing next to the window by herself.
By the third of the country dances, it was obvious Caroline was being shunned. No gentlemen asked her to dance; no one save her family would even come near her.
Well, she deserved such approbation, did she not? Running off as she had so indecorously. Bringing her family to the brink of ruin. That was not the behavior of a lady. Even Eleanor had noticed, and she did not know of the horrid events.
Images flashed in his mind, even as he escorted his next partner to the dance floor. He saw Caroline playing the flute with her sister, Caroline up to her elbows in lard at the tenant’s house, Caroline struggling with a ham outside the kitchen, Caroline serving drinks to her father. None of this was the behavior of a well-bred lady.
But was it the behavior of a woman atoning for her past indiscretions?
A lady’s behavior—writing letters, playing cards, and so forth—would not have helped her family in straitened circumstances.
The music stopped, and Josiah realized with horror he had not once looked into his partner’s eyes. He smiled awkwardly and made a polite comment about securing a future dance as he escorted the unfortunate lady back to her relations.
Perhaps he should ask Caroline to dance, since she already seemed to occupy so much of his thoughts.
No, this was still his best opportunity to evaluate marriage prospects. Besides, if the company shunned Caroline, they might shun him as well if he elected to acknowledge an acquaintance.
His sister suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Enjoying yourself, dear brother?”
“Indeed, I am.”
“I am, as well.” Eleanor flipped open her fan and covered her face before continuing. “What a clownish assembly! I shall have great fun recounting all the details when I am home.”
Josiah said nothing; he refused to add wood to the scathing blaze of his sister’s critique.
“Have you found a wife yet, Josiah? If there is none here who suits you, I am sure our host would be happy to let you search the barn. Indeed,” she continued, waving her fan languidly, “I am sure its inhabitants must be better dancers and certainly cannot suffer by comparison in appearance.”
“If you will excuse me, I must secure a partner before the next dance begins.”
“Oh, yes, you would not want to suffer the ignominy of standing by your sister throughout a dance.” She inclined her head toward Caroline, who talked with Johanna at the window.
“Why don’t you go find fault with the refreshments now, Eleanor?” Preferably from a face-first perspective at the bottom of the punch bowl, Josiah finished to himself as he moved away. He could safely dance with the heavily rouged widow now; enough time had passed that he would not look overly interested in seeking her out again.
During the next dance, he could not allow his mind to wander far because a running string of inane questions from his partner required his constant attention. It was with no small measure of relief that he escorted her back to her neighbors when the dance ended.
From preparations in the adjacent room, he could see that a supper was nearly ready, so there would probably only be one or two more dances before they adjourned to eat. Caroline and two of her sisters had already moved closer to the room where the meal would be set out. Apparently, she had given up hope of dancing.
He could ask her.
She had behaved shamefully, yes. She had embarrassed him and put him and her family through a great deal of danger and expense.
But should she be punished for it indefinitely? Had she not already suffered enough?
He took two steps toward her then stopped. She had not yet seen him. This was foolish. What would the others in the company think of him, nearly a cuckolded husband returning to his unfaithful bride. And what if, unthinkable as it seemed, she turned him down, as she had when he had suggested a stroll two days earlier?
Suddenly, he did not care. Be not afraid. He nearly marched to the words as he came toward her.
“May I have this next dance, Miss Carter?”
Tears punctuated the corners of her eyes as she smiled at him. “I would be most honored, Mr. Throckmorton.”
Josiah held out his arm and enjoyed the warm clasp of hers as they strolled to a position on the floor.
“Thank you,” Caroline said, nearly choking on the words as she said them, and he had to lean forward to hear. “I was…”
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Carter.” And he meant it. Caroline was the first person he had felt truly comfortable with all evening. He still had difficulty matching steps to the music, but she seemed to share the same difficulty; and at one time they both paused with uncertainty, unsure of when to begin the next step. He grinned at her and she giggled, and then the next couple danced right into them.
“I beg your pardon,” Josiah apologized as he pulled Caroline away from the path of oncoming dancers.
When had he started thinking of her as Caroline, rather than Miss Carter?
“Is something the matter?”
She must have seen his discomfiture at the sudden realization of their familiarity. At some point he ha
d let go of her arm. “Oh, we have only destroyed the dance, that is all.”
“Have we?”
“Yes. There’s an odd number of couples now, I’m afraid.”
“Oh.”
“Shall we set that to rights?” He offered his arm again.
“But of course.” She glanced at the musicians as she spoke.
“Does the tune sound strange to you, Miss Carter?”
“It is the most poorly executed reel I have ever heard.”
“I rather thought it might be a new musical fashion of some sort.”
“Goodness, I hope not!” Caroline smiled as they attempted to join the dance once more.
He saw his sister eyeing him darkly when the dance ended, and a servant appeared to tell him his presence was wanted to help lead the company in to supper. Seating arrangements placed him between Mrs. Bennett and her daughter, and he stifled a sigh. Perhaps he would learn no more of possible marriage partners, but his companions would be good-natured, at least. His sister sat across from him and he intended to pay her as little attention as possible.
“I do not believe I have ever had the opportunity,” his hostess said soon after the first dishes had been served, “of thanking you, Mr. Throckmorton.”
“Thanking me, Mrs. Bennett?”
“For your service in enabling the return of the men taken from Elkridge Landing. Samuel Carpenter was a servant of mine, and though he has moved on to his own place, we all think of him quite fondly. He informed me that you arranged for all the men to be taken aboard your ship for passage home. He said something about a ransom?”
“Well,” Josiah said, feeling himself color slightly, “the ransom was paid entirely by Mr. Carter. It is he who deserves your thanks.”
“And he has had it, I assure you. But Samuel said something that led me to believe you arranged his return, and he said that, until the last moment, he and the others had no indication whatever they would be released.”
“Yes, well…” Josiah looked at his wineglass and tried to think of some appropriate phrase to end this line of conversation. “We may thank God for the safe return of all.” Except Charles.
