Willoughby's Return (13 page)

“Ah, Mr Willoughby of Allenham,” uttered the Colonel, as though recollecting a name he had forgotten. “I had not thought your Mr Willoughby was the same man.”

“Then you do know him! Capital fellow. He's selling a property belonging to his wife, you know, Mrs Dashwood. She inherited it lately from an uncle and it seems they have enough to do with the upkeep of Combe Magna in Somerset and his place at Allenham to be much bothered with it. And my son Henry here is keen on it, very keen. He wants to be setting up his own place.”

“And has Mr Willoughby stayed behind to keep company with Lady Lawrence, too?” asked Margaret who realised as soon as she had spoken that Marianne was glaring in her direction.

“Oh, no,” cried Henry, “unfortunately, he was called away this morning to attend to some urgent matter over at Allenham
where he is having a lot of work done to his house. There had been some dispute between the craftsmen working there, and he rode over after breakfast, assuring me that he would return later. A note arrived just before we left to say that he would be late but would come directly here as soon as he was able.”

A look of sheer panic flashed across Marianne's face as it became clear that this information was completely new to her. Margaret guessed immediately that Marianne had assumed that Mr Willoughby would be too afraid to show his face and have no intention of coming to the ball. Now it was clear that she was not so sure.

Just at that moment, Mrs Jennings, accompanied by Sir John and Lady Middleton, joined the party and introductions were made all round. After this, the general lull in the conversation, coupled with the thoughtful silence of the Brandons, caused Mrs Jennings to speak out.

“Well, upon my soul, when is the dancing to start, Colonel? I expect young folk like these cannot wait to be on the floor, now can you?” she cried with a nod and a wink towards Margaret and Henry.

As if the conductor had heard her very words, the musicians started to play and with no time to feel further embarrassed by Mrs Jennings's insinuations, Margaret allowed herself to be swept off for the first dance of the evening, a rather stately minuet. The Brandons walked out to lead the dancing with the entire ballroom following suit. Indeed, there was hardly space to turn.

Margaret realised very quickly that all eyes were upon her and her ravishing partner. He, in his turn, seemed to delight in furthering her blushes by gazing far too often into her eyes. She
did not know how he could see where he was going, so steady was his scrutiny. Margaret began to feel that perhaps there was something wrong with her face, had she a spot or a blemish she had not noticed? She was relieved when he started to speak.

“I do not think we shall disappoint the chaperones, Mrs Jennings in particular,” he whispered into her hair.

Margaret looked at Henry with astonishment. “I’m sure I do not know what you mean, sir,” she answered, stepping away from him, perfectly aware of his meaning.

“A handsome pair,” he laughed, raising one eyebrow and speaking in imitation of the old lady, “he cannot take his eyes off her. How soon will they dance again and when can they be married?”

“Mr Lawrence, you are truly shocking!” Margaret exclaimed, but could not help laughing too.

“Come, Miss Dashwood, do you imagine they are discussing anything else, or for that matter is anyone discoursing on any other subject in the room? For instance, the two young ladies standing opposite us now with their respective partners have not uttered a word to them in the last five minutes. Would I be correct in assuming that they are friends of yours?”

Margaret saw, as she nodded her reply with great amusement, that Jane Wilton and Selina Strowbridge had been caught in mid conversation, talking over their respective partners, their eyes and mouths engaged on one subject. Margaret knew with certainty that the topic of their gossip was without any doubt that of she and her dancing partner.

“Let us give them something to talk about, Miss Dashwood,” Henry continued, fixing her with earnest regard. “Look now into my eyes with feeling. Let us see how they react.”

Margaret could not help but be amused by Henry; he was so charming, artless, and funny. She readily did as he asked. The outcome was as desired. Jane and Selina, not to mention half of the ladies who sat at the edges of the dance floor, were instantly animated in their speeches to one another.

“You will get me into trouble, Mr Lawrence. However shall I look my friends in the eye again?”

“I sincerely hope to make as much trouble as possible,” he smirked as the dance came to an end, “and I hope and beg, Miss Dashwood, that you will partner me again before this evening is over. If we are to keep tongues wagging, I insist on at least the promise of two more turns, if not three.”

Margaret was unable to answer. She could not have been more delighted. How she was to avoid the attentions of the likes of Mrs Jennings, however, she could not think and, whilst she had been flattered by Henry, she was not sure she was ready for the teasing she would have to bear. As they came off the floor, Jane and Selina bounded alongside to greet them, insisting in whispers on immediate introductions. They were joined a moment later by their other friend, Anne Courtney, who hung back until Margaret pulled her forward to meet their new acquaintance. He was very cordial in his manners if a little more reserved than when he had been with Margaret.

Selina was obviously most impressed and flirted with all the experience of a long practiced habit. “Let me introduce you to all our fine company, Mr Lawrence. You cannot guess what sort of a stir you’ve caused coming into the district, and I will tell you now that I hope you know it is your duty to dance with all eligible young ladies. If you have no one to dance with next, sir, I am most happy to oblige. I could never say no to a handsome man, Margaret will vouch for that!”

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Strowbridge,” Henry gallantly answered. “I hope Miss Courtney and Miss Wilton will honour me with the two after that and then, Miss Dashwood, I think you desired the next two after that, did you not?”

Margaret was so shocked, she could not think what to say to him in immediate reply and by the time she had thought of a cutting retort he was gone, wrested away by Selina, who linked her arm in his and lost no time in making eyes at him.

“I think Mr Lawrence likes you very much to tease you in such a manner,” said Anne with a wry smile.

“I assure you, I did not ask him to dance once, let alone twice,” Margaret insisted. “Besides, I do not know what shall be said if I stand up with him for another two dances, indeed I do not! I think I shall refuse him!”

“Everyone will say you have set your cap at him, that's for sure,” said Jane. “My brother Tom is hoping you will dance with him a little later.”

“Well, I think you make a lovely couple and if you enjoy dancing with Henry Lawrence, then I think you should,” said Anne. “Take no notice of the gossips, Margaret, they are only jealous.”

“Sometimes it is prudent to listen to gossip,” Jane went on. “I do not know that I shall be falling for the charms of Mr Lawrence, however teasing or handsome he may be. Charlotte Newby told me he is quite a wild young man. Her brother knows a friend of a friend of his cousin, who lives in Exeter. He says that Mr Lawrence and his friend, a Mr Willoughby, have been going about attending all-night card parties, roistering round the place at all hours with a noisy group of youths, racing their curricles down the High Street at midnight and across the sands at some seaside place.”

“I hardly think Mr Lawrence has had time enough to partake in all that activity,” cried Margaret, at once defending him. “I would not believe such a tale with so little proof of provenance. And even if he does like to drive fast, I do not think that makes him any different from most young men. I rather admire a gentleman with spirit!”

It was Anne's turn next on the arm of Mr Lawrence. Jane's brother Tom came to claim Margaret, and so for the time being she was forced to think of something and someone else.

Marianne's anxiety was such that she found it hard to fully enjoy herself, however well the evening's entertainment was progressing. She and William had not really had much of a chance to discuss the possibility of Willoughby's imminent appearance, apart from a few snatched words on the dance floor. Although they were both reconciled to think that there was a distinct possibility that he would come sooner or later, they had yet to relate to others in their party of his being known to the Lawrences and of the story that that involved. Colonel Brandon was inclined to think that it was best kept quiet until it became an absolute necessity to be divulged. Each privately knew there was little chance of keeping the affair secret, but were still clinging to false hope. Marianne could not think how she was to start to tell the Middletons or Mrs Jennings that Willoughby had been invited, but an instance arose sooner than she would have liked of it not being avoided. Sir Edgar Lawrence, being a jovial and sociable sort of fellow, had found a very willing partner in Mrs Jennings on all subjects of discourse. They had admired everything they saw about them, Mrs Jennings had talked at length on the subject of her daughters and grandchildren, and now it came to Sir Edgar's turn. He related all of his
wife's history on her poor health, much to Mrs Jennings's great concern and curiosity, before he turned to the subject of Henry. The name of Willoughby soon being uttered could not escape the notice of Mrs Jennings, who spoke out with great alarm.

“My goodness, nay, it cannot be. Mr John Willoughby. Lord, bless me, are we talking of the same Mr Willoughby? He is to come here this evening, to Delaford? Are you quite sure? Does the Colonel know about this?”

Before Sir Edgar had a chance to reply, Marianne, who had been observing this contretemps from a little distance, stepped up. “Excuse me, Mrs Jennings, I am so sorry to butt in, but I have come to claim my dance and I will brook no refusal. Sir Edgar, you will break my heart if you do not keep your promise.” She took his arm immediately and led him off, leaving Mrs Jennings, her jaw slack and her mouth open. Marianne saw her stare after them and watched her turn instantly to her daughter, Lady Middleton. Thankfully, William was there to charm Mrs Jennings into accepting a turn about the dance floor and, having taken in all that had passed between her and Sir Edgar, removed her from her daughter's side. Brandon soon took Mrs Jennings into his confidence, relating the tale of Sir Edgar's house buying and Henry's connection with the Willoughbys, whilst extracting a promise of her silence on the subject. Of course Mrs Jennings could not resist dropping a few hints to Marianne later that she knew all about the episode, adding that she would be confidentiality itself, excepting any occasion where that good-for-nothing fellow might show his true colours. Upon witnessing such a scenario, she would not hold back to give him a piece of her mind. Needless to say, Marianne did not feel consoled by these reassurances.

In the meantime, Margaret enjoyed her two dances with Henry and had passed from feeling a little cross with him for his teasing ways to have elevated him in her mind to the most wildly romantic suitor she had ever known. He insisted on dancing with her again and this time she made no attempt to refuse him. She thought her fondness for dancing with Henry had gone unnoticed, but Elinor was waiting for her with an expression that told her she had observed all three consecutive dances.

“Margaret, I am very pleased to see that you are making Mr Lawrence feel welcome, but I think perhaps you are taking your duties as a hostess a little too enthusiastically. It is not seemly, dear, to dance with a gentleman three times in a row. Besides, there are many young ladies here tonight who I am sure would like to take their turn.”

“Oh, Elinor, I would not have done so but he insisted,” declared Margaret. “I would hate Mr Lawrence to think I am rude and that I did not enjoy his company. What else could a girl do?”

“You could have declined him gracefully,” Elinor admonished. “A gentleman, one worth pursuing, would not put a young girl in such a situation. People will talk, you know.”

“Oh, let them talk,” Margaret declared. “I do not care about the opinions of old ladies with nothing better to do than sit and spread malicious falsehood about others. And understand this; I am not pursuing Mr Lawrence, whatever you might think. I hardly know the man!”

Margaret turned on her heel, leaving Elinor to sigh and wonder at the similarity between her sisters, both hotheads, both determined to have their way in everything and utterly insensible of the devastation they caused around them. Well, there
was hope, Elinor thought, when she considered how Marianne had improved since her marriage. Though it was impossible not to feel concerned at this moment. Marianne looked as if she had just seen a ghost. Elinor thought she had never seen her looking so drawn and pale. Perhaps she should talk to her at supper and find out if anything was amiss.

The gong rang out, calling the weary dancers to rest awhile and replenish their energy. All the guests hurried off to the dining room, where tables were set, groaning under the weight of a magnificent spread. The musicians laid aside their instruments and dashed to the servant's hall for a glass of negus and a bowl of soup. Colonel Brandon ushered his guests, Sir Edgar and Henry Lawrence, to his table, where much to her great delight, Margaret already sat, with her mother, the Middletons, and Mrs Jennings. There was such a hubbub and frenzied bustle about the room as people found their chairs and struck up conversation. Every little party was talking nineteen to the dozen, piling plates with cold meat and hot pies, sweets and sorbets, filling glasses with ice cold wine. Everyone had so much to say and wanted to say it all at once. The sound of chattering, braying, prattling, and screeching, punctuated by howling laughter or tittering giggles, added to the delirious atmosphere.

Henry took his seat next to Margaret. “This evening is surpassing all my expectations,” he whispered, smiling into her eyes. “This is so much fun, do you not agree, Miss Dashwood?”

“I do, indeed, Mr Lawrence,” she replied. “I am enjoying myself very much, though I would more so if I felt we were not under so much scrutiny. Do not look now, but we are being observed.”