The Resolute Runaway

by Charlotte Louise Dolan

  Doubtless the old biddies sipping tea with his sister would be horrified when he appeared without bothering to change out of his traveling clothes, but he didn’t especially care what their opinion of him was.

  The door to the blue salon was open, and as he approached he could hear the strains of a Viennese waltz being pounded out with a heavy hand on the pianoforte. His Aunt Theo must have already arrived for the holidays, because no one else he knew managed to make every piece that was played sound like a military march.

  When he stepped into the room, the sight that met his eyes had nothing to do with tea or dowagers. There seemed, instead, to be an extraordinary number of young bucks gathered in this one room, Nicholas recognized one young man who lived on a small estate in the neighborhood, but beyond that they were all strangers to him.

  The furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room, the rugs rolled back, and at his entrance Aunt Theo continued punishing the keys in her merciless way. All other eyes were focused on the three couples dipping and turning in the center of the cleared area. No one, in fact, took the slightest notice of the new arrival.

  Without difficulty Nicholas recognized the tallest young lady as his sister. Not looking the least bit matronly, she was waltzing in the arms of a young man obviously several years her junior. The lad was decked out in an outlandish costume, which he undoubtedly considered all the crack. His extravagantly high collar and his shockingly flamboyant waistcoat, however, only made it extremely difficult for Nicholas to suppress a grin.

  To his delight—and very much to his amazement—the second young miss being twirled around the room was none other than his hoydenish cousin, Dorie, who had put up her hair and who was looking quite elegant. Nicholas hadn’t known she could clean up to such advantage—a compliment he’d better keep to himself, since Dorie could not be expected to have given up all her pugnacious behavior just because she had let down her skirts.

  Nicholas shifted his attention to the third young lady, who was waltzing with a most handsome partner, whose attire was only slightly inclined toward dandyism. The young man had a most fatuous expression on his face, which was easily understood, for his partner was the most enchanting little thing Nicholas had seen in an age. With black curls framing a heart-shaped little face and skin like alabaster, she was delicately built, but with such an exquisite figure, she, more than any woman he had ever encountered before, truly deserved the encomium “Pocket Venus.”

  However had he missed making the acquaintance of such an incomparable on his previous visits to Wiltshire?

  While he was staring at her in fascination, the dance came to an end, the couples separated, and there was a surge of laughing young men jockeying for position and importuning the three ladies for a chance to be their next partners.

  The thought of anyone else but himself dancing with the lovely black-haired miss sent Nicholas shouldering his way through the throng.

  “Nicholas! You’re back!” Dorie launched herself at him, and he caught her in a bear hug. Despite her grown-up looks, she was still apparently a sad romp.

  Setting his cousin back on her feet, Nicholas embraced his sister, then turned toward the third young lady, expecting an introduction.

  No one, however, seemed to think it necessary, and he was about to demand that they not forget the standard courtesies when he realized that he knew those large violet eyes now gazing up at him. Joanna!

  She held out her hand to him, and he took it automatically. At her touch, his heart began to do strange things in his breast.

  “I am so glad you have come to share Christmas with us, Nicholas.”

  There was a chorus of protests at her use of his given name, but she merely turned and smiled at them all. “Oh, but of course Nicholas must dance the next waltz with me. You see, he has promised to be like a brother to me.” She looked back at Nicholas and smiled.

  Although he managed to keep his smile firmly fixed on his face, and thus avoided disgracing himself, Nicholas was no longer feeling the least bit cheerful when he put his hand on Joanna’s tiny waist and began to dance in time to the music Aunt Theo was again banging out on the pianoforte.

  Her brother! She thought of him as a brother! Even while the smile grew wooden on his face, Nicholas realized this was not even the worst of it. That poor little dab of a thing who had, while his back was turned, grown up to be the most enchanting young lady he had ever met, had only four months previously become positively hysterical at the mere thought of marriage to him.

  * * * *

  Why, oh why, had she ever said the word “brother?” Joanna berated herself for even bringing up the past. It was obviously distasteful to Nicholas, because his smile had immediately frozen on his face, and his eyes were now shuttered.

  Undoubtedly he assumed she was criticizing him for acting in a less-than-honorable way after compromising her reputation. She wished there were some way she could reassure him that she held him in the highest regard and did not think his actions had been the least bit dishonorable. Fortunately, before the words were out of her mouth she realized that any additional mention of the events of last August would only worsen the situation.

  She would give anything to bring the smile back to his eyes—to dispel the brooding look he was not even attempting to conceal.

  Despite everything, Joanna could not long resist the pleasure of being back in Nicholas’s arms, and she felt a deep disappointment when the piece was concluded and the dance came to an end.

  To her chagrin, Nicholas did not even stay to ask her for a second dance. Even while the others crowded around her, he vanished through the doorway without a backward glance.

  Although she had earlier enjoyed dancing with each of the young men, who were all quite pleasant and totally innocuous, Joanna found herself now strangely reluctant to feel any other man’s hand on her waist where Nicholas’s hand had so recently rested.

  Over the vociferous protests of all the young men, she suggested that they had been waltzing long enough, and now they should really practice some of the country dances. Dorie also protested that she was eager to continue waltzing, but with Elizabeth supporting Joanna, the matter was soon arranged.

  Which was fortunate, because she was feeling so fragile, she strongly suspected that if any of the young men tried to hold her in his arms, she would break down in tears and be forced to flee from the room. Never would she be able to live down such a disgraceful display of emotion.

  As it was, her mind was so filled with the vision of Nicholas—so much more compelling in the flesh than in her memories—that she could not concentrate on the steps of the country dance, which she had long ago mastered, and after she thrice stepped on her partner’s toes, he cheerfully began counting out the steps for her and reminding her when she should turn and when advance and when retreat.

  It was all very embarrassing, and she could not be sorry when Elizabeth announced it was time for a little refreshment. She could only wish Nicholas would see fit to rejoin them for tea.

  * * * *

  Hearing someone enter his study, Darius looked up from the accounts he was working on. “Ah, Nicholas, I am glad to see you have arrived already. Elizabeth was worried that you might have had carriage trouble along the way.”

  “How could she worry? I am here a full day ahead of when I said I would arrive.”

  Darius smiled. “When you have been married for a few years, you will understand that logic has very little to do with a woman’s capacity for fretting.”

  Nicholas did not return the smile. Instead he frowned—no, thought Darius, if one would be honest, one would have to call it a scowl.

  “Speaking of logic, what is Elizabeth about, to let such a cursed assortment of caper-merchants and fribbles and Bond Street beaux into the house? I have never seen such a misbegotten crew, and I do not approve of them hanging around and dancing attendance on Joanna. Nor on Dorie either,” he added in what was obviously an afterthought.

  “Admittedly they
are all rather young and still somewhat foolish,” Darius replied calmly, “but I have known their fathers and older brothers for years, and I cannot, after all, forbid our neighbors’ sons admittance into our house without causing grave offense. But rest assured that however outlandish their choice of costume, there is nothing wrong with any of the lads that a few more years of experience will not correct.”

  Nicholas began to pace around the room, and Darius recognized in his brother-in-law the same restlessness he himself had often felt before his marriage had brought him an inner peace. It would appear that Elizabeth had the right of it when she told him her brother was already caught, though it was equally obvious Nicholas was unaware of how deeply he cared for Joanna.

  “I have promised her I would take care of her like a brother,” Nicholas blurted out. “So I feel it is my duty to see that no undesirable types are lurking around her.”

  And that, thought Darius, is undoubtedly the real reason you now have your nose out of joint. Joanna has apparently done or said something to indicate she still thinks of you as a brother, and you are not at all happy to be cast in such a role. Would that I could tell you she actually dreams of you as a husband, but that, my boy, you must discover for yourself.

  To Nicholas he only said, “Would you wish to ride out with me for a bit before dinner?”

  And Nicholas, who had spent the entire day on the road, immediately expressed his eagerness for a good gallop.

  * * * *

  Alexander’s mother handed him a cup of tea, her friends asked him if he was looking forward to seeing England, and their daughters all coyly expressed the hope that he should not forget them when he was introduced to all the beautiful young ladies he would doubtless meet in London.

  He obediently sipped his tea, mendaciously replied that he was indeed looking forward to becoming acquainted with his English heritage, and with a great deal of effort even managed to produce the requisite assurances that no matter how charming the ladies might be in London, he would never find anyone there who was prettier than the present company.

  But behind his glib compliments he felt real consternation. If Edinburgh were this confining, however would he survive four months trapped in London? Why, oh why had he let his mother persuade him—no, trick him—into agreeing to spend the entire Season visiting his English uncle? And now she was even insisting that he go a month early, so that he could acquire the proper wardrobe. His kilts, she had informed him, would not be leaving Scotland.

  The sense of his own mortality, which last summer had seemed quite inescapable, completely inevitable, and dangerously imminent, had entirely faded, but not, to his everlasting regret, before he had made the unfortunate promise to his mother.

  Considered rationally, there was no legitimate reason for him to have panicked. He still had more than enough Scottish cousins left to inherit the title and carry on the family name, should something disastrous happen to him. And right now London itself was the only major disaster looming on his horizon.

  Nor could he even hope that his mother might be persuaded to release him from his promise, no matter how rash and ill-conceived it had been. He had already tried that route, and she had remained totally adamant.

  Four wasted months—it did not bear thinking about. Four months when he could not wet a fly in a stream or sail across a loch or even—here he suppressed a smile, lest the young ladies now present should notice it and misinterpret it as interest in them—shear a sheep.

  And once lost, those days could never be regained. Indeed, now that he thought about it logically, that was all the more reason not to fritter his time away in London. The old fisherman’s words came back to him, that one must treat each day as if it were one’s last. Did he truly wish to spend his last days in London, of all places? No, he did not, and so he would inform his mother.

  In fact, the more he thought about marriage in general, the more he realized that even when he was thirty-five or forty-five, he would not be ready to settle down. He was undoubtedly meant to remain a bachelor all his days, as brief or as long as those days might be.

  But, he thought glumly, such an argument would only make his mother more insistent that he have a London Season, just as if he himself were some silly chit who needed to be “popped off.” It was downright embarrassing, and an insult to his manhood.

  “Another cup of tea, dear?” His mother smiled at him, a sly, treacherous smile, as innocent as a fox’s, and he had the lowering feeling she knew everything he had been thinking and that she was one step ahead of him all the way.

  * * * *

  Christmas dinner, and the table had groaned with such an abundance of food that they had all stuffed themselves to the point of moaning, or at least Joanna felt that way. Except she could not feel the least inclined to moan with Nicholas as her dinner partner. Darius and Elizabeth were seated at the ends of the table, and Dorie and her mother on one side, which left Joanna to share the other side of the table with Nicholas.

  She had basked in his undivided attention throughout the entire meal, and they had talked of a multitude of subjects, including lastly a thorough description of his estate, which to her way of thinking did indeed sound like the perfect place to live.

  “So I think you will agree that Somerset is vastly superior to Wiltshire, and it is not merely my own partiality that prejudices me in its favor.”

  Nicholas smiled when he said it, and Joanna felt such an upwelling of happiness in her heart, she would have agreed with him if he had said Somerset had just risen on gigantic wings and flown off to the moon.

  “Attention, please!” Darius rapped on his wineglass, and the various conversations ceased. “We have an announcement to make. My dear, do you wish to do the honors?”

  “I shall leave them to you,” Elizabeth replied with a quiet smile.

  “Then I wish to inform you all that Elizabeth intends to present me with another pledge of her affection.”

  “Oh, Beth, that’s wonderful.” Dorie leapt up so quickly, she almost tipped over her chair. Hugging her cousin, she asked, “When is the baby due?”

  “The middle of July.”

  “Oh, then you cannot—” Dorie stopped in mid-sentence.

  “No, I shall not be able to chaperone you and Joanna in London.”

  “That’s all right,” Dorie assured her. “My mother can manage.”

  Mrs. Donnithorne immediately asserted that of course she was fully capable of launching two young ladies into society, but whatever Elizabeth’s opinion may have been, Joanna felt herself not the least bit reassured. Something was bothering her, and with a feeling of dismay she realized it was the smile that Dorie could not quite repress.

  Joanna had grown to know and dread that particular smile. It invariably meant that Dorie was plotting some outrageous scheme. London, which Joanna had almost started to look forward to, now began to take on a sinister aspect, and it was with a sinking feeling of impending disaster that she rose to follow the other ladies out of the room, leaving the men to their brandy.

  * * * *

  “I don’t know how you can sit there so complacently,” Nicholas said to Darius, who persisted in taking the whole matter much too lightly. “You know perfectly well that Aunt Theo is no match for Dorie. And if that scamp is not firmly suppressed, then heaven only knows what kind of scrapes she will drag Joanna into.”

  “Well,” Darius replied, “if you feel that strongly about it, the only thing I can suggest is that you yourself spend the Season in London, where you can keep an eye on Dorie ... and Joanna, of course.”

  Nicholas threw himself down in the chair next to his brother-in-law and considered all angles of the situation. The plan had much to recommend it. Of a certainty, he could not be expected to stay at Oakhaven, where he would doubtless waste all his days in pointless worrying.

  “I think I shall do exactly that,” Nicholas said finally. “After all, Joanna has had very little experience, and London is full of cads and bounders waiting to prey
on green, unsuspecting girls. Yes, I feel it is nothing less than my duty to accompany them.” He raised his glass in a toast. “Let us drink to London.”

  “To London!” Darius paused with the glass almost to his lips; then a wicked imp of mischief made him add, “Do you know, the most marvelous thing has just occurred to me. If you are there in person, it will be very easy for you to help Joanna find the proper husband.”

  Nicholas choked on his brandy.

  * * * *

  “Oh, we are going to have such adventures!”

  Joanna sat on Dorie’s bed and contemplated her companion, who had been giving off sparks of suppressed excitement ever since the duke had made his announcement.

  “But, Dorie—”

  “No, no, I shall not listen to any of your prophecies of doom and gloom, Joanna.” Dorie spun around in circles until she became so dizzy she collapsed backward into a chair. “Everything is falling out perfectly. You know very well I have been dreading the tedium and the boredom we shall be forced to endure. Well, my mother is a dear, but she is so flighty and absentminded, a regular flibbertigibbet, that she cannot begin to match wits with me. Once we are in London, we can do whatever we want without her discovering it until it is too late.”

  “Too late? Do you hear what you are saying? The course you are proposing is nothing but a path leading directly to social ruin.”

  “Exactly! I am so glad you are not slow-witted. Once I have put myself beyond the pale, everyone will stop trying to marry me off, and I shall be allowed to lead my own life. Have I told you I plan to travel all around the world?”

  “Yes,” Joanna said despairingly, “you have told me.”

  “Oh, I see what is bothering you.” Dorie leapt to her feet. “You are worried that your reputation will likewise be ruined.”

  “If that happened, I must tell you it would be more than unfortunate, it would be the end of everything. For you should realize it is already very difficult for me to live off the duke’s generosity, freely given though it is. I cannot expect, however, to continue accepting his charity for the rest of my life.”