by Bess McBride
He took a step forward.
****
Mattie tried to drag her feet when Sylvie towed her away, thinking that for a slender girl, Sylvie certainly was strong. Mattie threw a look over her shoulder toward William, hoping that he would rescue her, that he would demand Sylvie leave her in his care, where she wanted to be. William looked at Mattie with a question in his eyes, and short of screaming for help—which seemed a tad extreme in her formal surroundings—there was nothing she could do. She turned to face forward, propelled by the strength of Sylvie’s will.
“Allow me to accompany you, ladies,” William said almost immediately behind Mattie. She swung her head to look up at him with gratitude…and some surprise. He had certainly crossed the room quickly. Almost as if he’d sprinted.
“I am in need of some refreshment myself.” William extended his arms for both women.
“William! Surely you do not intend to monopolize Mattie all evening?” Sylvie hissed as she placed her hand on his left arm. Mattie leaned in to listen while touching William’s other arm lightly with her fingers. Even the feel of his coat seemed magical at that moment, she thought.
“I most certainly do, Sylvie,” he said with a glint in his eye and a smile in Mattie’s direction. “That is, if Miss Crockwell does not mind.” He raised a questioning brow, and she shook her head.
“No, I don’t mind,” she murmured, unable to control the flush that sprang to her face.
They proceeded into the dining room, now transformed into something resembling a buffet line. Those guests who weren’t dancing milled about talking and visiting, now undeterred by the muted sounds of the otherwise loud orchestra in the ballroom.
“What will you have to drink, ladies?” William asked. “And do not think to fob me off as you did Reggie and Samuel. I will find you.” His grin took the censure from his words.
Sylvie laughed, and Mattie chuckled. She had certainly read about young women sending unwanted admirers off in search of refreshment while they themselves found other more attractive company, but she didn’t know she would actually see the maneuver in action.
“William!” Sylvie chided, a sparkling smile returning to her face. “I cannot imagine what you are on about. I had no intention of ‘fobbing’ Reggie and Samuel off. I do not understand how you can say such a thing of your beloved sister.”
Mattie watched the exchange between Mrs. Sinclair’s gorgeous adult children, wondering what Mr. Sinclair had looked like. Did William resemble his father?
William lifted a dark brow. “It is because you are my beloved sister that I know you so well. Stay here,” he ordered. “Or if you wish to wander away, deliver Miss Crockwell to my side.” He dropped his eyes to Mattie’s face with a broad grin. Mattie blushed but kept silent. She couldn’t believe he’d actually “lifted a dark brow.” How had she ever thought she could fit into one of her romance novels and belong?
“William, you are being so tiresome. Mattie will be in good hands with me. Allow her to enjoy herself.”
Mattie, quick to protest that she was enjoying herself, stopped when William spoke again. He dropped his smile.
“Nevertheless, I think I must keep vigil over her,” he said quietly.
Mattie thought she might just keel over from his words. He could certainly “keep vigil” over her anytime he wanted. Forever might be too short, she sighed inwardly.
“And I would hope that she is able to enjoy herself, despite my companionship,” William continued. His face took on a diffident look.
Mattie’s eyes widened at the expression on his face, and she stepped in. He was probably worried she’d say something and be found out.
“I’m fine to stay with William, Sylvie. You don’t have to babysit me,” she said quickly. “And I appreciate that William wants me to stay out of trouble. I really do.”
“Babysit?” they both repeated with puzzled faces.
“What a strange term,” Sylvie said. “Do you mean as if one cares for a child?”
Mattie nodded. “Well, yes,” she said ruefully. “In my time, we might also use the term to mean watching out for an adult—as if that adult was a child.”
William straightened. “I would not presume to treat you like a child, Miss Crockwell.”
“Yes, you would, William,” Sylvie murmured. “It would seem Mattie feels so, otherwise, she would not have used the term, would she?”
“Is that true, Miss Crockwell?” William looked down at Mattie, and she could have sworn she saw hurt in his eyes. She shook her head. That hardly seemed likely. She’d only known him for a little less than twenty-four hours.
She put a bright smile on her face.
“No, William. I didn’t mean to imply that you or Sylvie treated me like a child. It was a poor use of the expression, I think.”
“I think I must say hello to Louisa,” Sylvie said, suddenly distracted as she waved to someone across the room. Mattie turned to see a dark-haired, fair-skinned beauty in a gown of lilac satin approaching them with a perfect smile. Mattie didn’t miss the way the newcomer looked her up and down, although it was done quickly and discreetly. A flicker of Louisa’s dark eyes in William’s direction summed up the situation.
Mattie caught her breath and looked up at William, who watched Louisa cross the room with a welcoming smile.
“Louisa! I was not aware you had arrived,” Sylvie said as she leaned in to kiss Louisa’s cheek. Louisa took Sylvie’s hands.
“We only just arrived,” Louisa said in a warm voice. “And this is your cousin, I think?” she asked, turning her sweet smile on Mattie.
“Louisa, may I present our cousin from America, Miss Matilda Crockwell,” William said with a small bow. “Miss Crockwell, Louisa and her family are friends and neighbors. Sylvie, Thomas, Louisa and I spent many an afternoon playing together as children.”
“Indeed we did,” Louisa said as she dropped a curtsey in Mattie’s direction. “It is so lovely to meet you, Miss Crockwell.”
Mattie returned the curtsey, certain she would never be able to emulate Louisa’s graceful dip. She wanted to like Louisa, but the look in the beauty’s eyes as she glanced at William made Mattie grit her teeth.
“It is lovely to meet you as well, Miss…?” Mattie quirked an eyebrow.
“Please call me Louisa. And may I call you Matilda?”
“Mattie.”
“Mattie. What a wonderful name.”
“Thank you,” Mattie mumbled, wondering how Louisa got her impossibly brilliant hair to shine like it did.
“Isn’t this a crush?” Sylvie leaned in to ask Louisa.
“It is a lovely turnout, Sylvie. So many people. You must surely have invited the entire county.” Louisa laughed.
“Mother did, Louisa. You know she is trying to find a wife for William.”
“I am afraid it is true, Louisa. Mother is matchmaking with unparalleled enthusiasm.” William let loose a pretend sigh.
“Well, you are growing long in the teeth, William. It is time you settled down.” Louisa’s eyes sparkled, matched only by the gleam of her beautifully straight white teeth.
William’s face bronzed, and he dropped a sideways glance in Mattie’s direction. She met his eyes with a neutral expression. Would Louisa be the match, she wondered?
“In good time, ladies. In good time,” he murmured with the air of a man who had no immediate plans.
Louisa turned her smile on Mattie.
“Forgive us, Mattie, if we seem boorish. Having lived in such close proximity all our lives, we have few secrets from one another and will always tease without mercy.”
“It is true, Mattie. This is not how we speak to others in polite society,” Sylvie said. Though she laughed, Mattie saw the warning in her eyes.
“But I am sure Mattie understands the manner of civil address, Sylvie. Surely, it cannot be so different in America?” Louisa cocked her head and regarded Mattie with a soft lift of her lips.
“We are a bit more casual, I would
say,” Mattie said with care.
“Yes, I believe that is the case,” William noted. “And how are your parents, Louisa?”
Mattie breathed an inward sigh of relief as William steered the conversation away from her. She threw William another sideways glance. He continued to beam in Louisa’s direction, and she was sorely tempted to either kick him in the shin or stomp off. Since none of those actions seemed quite the thing to do, she opted to paste a serene smile on her face and stare around the room while Sylvie, Louisa and William talked.
A dark-haired man at the far end of the room caught Mattie’s eye. Tall and slender, he struck an intriguingly handsome pose as he leaned an arm against the white mantle of the fireplace. She reddened when she realized that he was looking at her, and dropped her eyes, but not before she saw him move in their direction. She turned to face the conversation once again, acutely aware that he approached. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her this man might not be easily fooled. She hoped he was just a passing acquaintance of the family.
“I hope I’m not interrupting?” the newcomer said with the air of one who assumed he was not. Mattie swallowed hard and kept her face down, focusing her eyes on the tips of his black, well-shined boots. His baritone voice was deep, cultured, with a hint of amusement, and his accent was…American.
“Stephen,” Louisa murmured. “Are you back from America, then?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Permit me introduce you to our newest American, Miss Matilda Crockwell. Mattie, Mr. Stephen Carver, a fellow countryman of yours. You will have much in common.”
Mattie heard her name, and raised her eyes to Stephen’s penetrating blue gaze. While she should have been elated to find another American in the crowd of very and sometimes unintelligible British accents, she had a sickening feeling that she might not be able to deceive this man.
She felt William’s touch at her elbow, and she looked up at him quickly.
“Welcome back to England, Carver. Are you visiting your aunt again?” William’s tone sounded less welcoming than his words. His hand remained under her arm, and she felt more secure at his warm touch.
Stephen executed a small bow before Mattie. He raised his head, his eyes lingering for an instant on William’s hand, before he fixed her with his startlingly blue eyes.
“Miss Crockwell, I am delighted to find a fellow American here in the English countryside.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. William could do nothing but release her.
“How do you do, Mr. Carver?” she enunciated, sounding for all the world like Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady practicing her elocution.
Stephen turned to Louisa and Sylvie and bowed to them before addressing William.
“Yes, I have returned, Sinclair. My aunt asked me to help her with some matters of estate. Since my uncle died, she’s been anxious to turn the estate over to a manager and move to London.” His handsome face wore a friendly expression that lessened Mattie’s anxiety. Maybe he wouldn’t be a problem after all, she thought.
“Have you recently arrived, Miss Crockwell?” Stephen asked. “What ship did you sail on? I can only hope that your journey was less prone to storms than mine.”
Mattie swallowed hard. Ship? The USS Enterprise? The USS Missouri? No, those were aircraft carriers, weren’t they? She was fairly sure she couldn’t just wing it. So much for Stephen Carver not being a problem! She turned instinctively to William, hoping he would come to the rescue.
“Miss Crockwell arrived on the Daniel Webster only a few days ago, Carver. She is a distant cousin who has come to visit with us for a short period.”
Mattie fought the urge to throw William a grateful glance. She nodded mutely and waited with bated breath for Stephen to announce that he too had sailed on that very same ship.
Stephen nodded. “Yes, of course, the Daniel Webster. I heard it had arrived. And was it a smooth sailing?”
He directed the question to Mattie once again, and she threw herself out there, hoping the answer would be right.
“Yes, very smooth, thank you, Mr. Carver. I’m—I am sorry to hear that yours was not.”
Stephen smiled ruefully. “I have had several pleasant sailings, so I was due to have a poor one. At the risk of alienating our British hosts with boring talk of America, perhaps we could talk again? If I may call upon you tomorrow?”
Mattie choked on something. Air? Saliva? Impossible. Her mouth had gone dry. She covered her mouth with a gloved hand and threw a panicked look to William. His face darkened, and he gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head in her direction as if to warn her. Not that she needed warning. She might be able to fool English aristocrats who knew nothing of the United States, but she wasn’t sure she could bamboozle the intelligent-appearing American in front of her.
“I-I…” She coughed again, trying to stall while she thought fast.
“That would be delightful, Mr. Carver,” Sylvie chimed in. “We would be happy to receive you tomorrow. At two o’clock?” She smiled graciously, ever her mother’s daughter. Mattie could have hugged her.
Louisa unwittingly helped distract Stephen’s attention.
“I am sorry to hear that your aunt intends to return to London permanently, Stephen. We will miss her presence here in the country.” She smiled warmly at Stephen. “How long do you propose to stay in England this time?”
Mattie regarded Louisa and Sylvie with admiration. These young women, not older than twenty to twenty-two, were superbly poised and polished, displaying gracious manners beyond their years. Mattie felt clumsy and tongue-tied next to them…and old. Even at twenty-eight, she had still not mastered the social skills that Louisa and Sylvie effortlessly demonstrated.
Stephen’s smile, when he answered Louisa’s question, was warm and friendly, showing even white teeth. Mattie hadn’t realized that most of the people she’d met in the last twenty-four hours since her “arrival” in the Georgian era rarely showed their teeth when they smiled. Every smile appeared to be somehow thin-lipped, as if it were impolite to show one’s teeth.
“I am not sure, Louisa. I am quite content to delay here in England as long as possible, but I do have responsibilities back in New York.”
Mattie’s eyes widened. New York? Oh, why hadn’t she said she was from San Francisco or even Boston? She stole a glance toward William. He studiously ignored her, keeping his attention on the exchange between Stephen Carver and Louisa. Mattie tried to read his face. Was he jealous? Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Stephen and Louisa. They certainly seemed to know each other well. They were even on first-name basis, which she thought wasn’t really common in the Georgian era between men and women who weren’t married.
“Yes, of course,” Louisa murmured. She turned to Mattie with her beautiful smile. “Stephen is a philanthropist, Mattie. He sits on the board of many charities.”
“Louisa seeks to put me in a good light, perhaps in honor of my fellow American, Miss Crockwell. I do not contribute as much as I should, I fear.” Stephen bowed his head deprecatingly.
“But of course, I would wish for Mattie to think the best of her compatriot, Stephen,” Louisa said. “Do not believe him, Mattie. I believe he recently oversaw the building of something called City Hall in New York City, did you not, Stephen?” Louisa turned to William, Sylvie and Mattie. “Mrs. Brookfield has been boasting on his behalf. She is very proud of her American nephew.”
Louisa’s lips curved into a playful smile, which Stephen mirrored. Mattie eyed them both with blatant admiration. Everyone really was quite beautiful in her Georgian novel metaphysical experience. They really were. Never again would she look at the cover of a romance novel without seeing Stephen’s brilliant blue eyes or Louisa’s burnished brunette curls.
“Ah, yes, my aunt has placed me on a pedestal from which I will undoubtedly fall one day. But let us talk of more interesting matters.” To Mattie’s dismay, Stephen turned to her again. “And where do you reside in America, Miss Crockwell?”
&nbs
p; Mattie threw another look in William’s direction, but he had turned to listen to something Sylvie was saying.
“Oh, uh, New…New York,” Mattie stuttered ungracefully. She interlaced her gloved fingers together.
“New York! What a wonderful coincidence,” Louisa exclaimed.
“We are practically neighbors, Miss Crockwell. How delightful,” Stephen said. “We must talk further tomorrow. I look forward to meeting with you again.” He bowed to the group. “For now, I see my aunt beckons to me so I must attend to her.”
Mattie swallowed hard as she watched his elegant figure move across the room toward a plump, elderly woman in a purple satin gown.
“William, I…” Mattie began anxiously as she turned back toward the group. She caught sight of Louisa and clamped her lips together. Louisa appeared not to notice. William caught Mattie’s words and flashed her a nod of understanding.
“I must mingle as well, I am afraid,” Louisa said, to Mattie’s relief. “My mother will be pleased to know that Stephen has returned so soon. She seems to be inordinately fond of him.” Louisa laughed. She leaned forward to kiss Sylvie on the cheek, and turned to William. “You have been very silent this evening, William. Are you well?”
“Quite well, Louisa,” William said with a smile not evident in Stephen’s presence. “I was content to listen to you and Mr. Carver exchange pleasantries. At the risk of annoying you, I must say that not only is your mother inordinately fond of Mr. Carver, you seem to harbor some great regard for him as well.”
“William!” Sylvie chided. “Do not tease her.”
“Tease me?” Louisa laughed. “Whatever do you mean, Sylvie?” Louisa ran a hand to several perfect curls at the nape of her neck. “I am only acquainted with Mr. Carver through his aunt.”
“Mr. Carver, is it?” William snorted. “I am certain I heard you call him Stephen…more than once.”
