Elizabeth Mansfield by Matched Pairs

Author:Matched Pairs
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-10-21T10:23:28+00:00

20

The bimonthly Amberford Assembly was about to be held again. Like most rural assemblies, this one was usually anticipated with more eagerness by the ladies than by the gentlemen. Ladies were always excited by the prospect of dancing, flirtation and gossip, but gentlemen often chafed at the formality of the affair. This time, however, at least two gentlemen were looking forward to it. For very different reasons, both Tris and Peter were expecting this particular session to be a significant event, Peter because he was determined to dance with Julie in defiance of her mother’s displeasure, and Tris because he suspected that Peter would use the occasion to offer for Julie.

Tris had completely regained his determination to see Julie married to the viscount of Canfield. The shock and abhorrence he’d experienced when he’d come upon them kissing was, he told himself, a momentary aberration. He couldn’t really explain why he’d felt what he’d felt, but it was not a matter of importance. If an explanation had been required, he would probably have excused himself by saying that it had been merely a brotherly reaction, natural and protective.

But whatever the explanation, the feeling had passed. It was Cleo he adored, not Julie. There was no question in his mind that it was Cleo he wanted to wed. Cleo was more than beautiful; she was lively, witty and constantly, delightfully surprising. Julie, on the other hand, was drab, shy and held no surprises for him. So even though the scene in the library—the two embracing figures drenched in golden, mote-spangled light—sometimes recreated itself in his memory, it no longer disturbed him. He merely brushed it aside.

Thus, on the evening of the assembly, the gentlemen of two Amberford households—Enders Hall and Wycklands—prepared for the occasion with unwonted eagerness. And at Enders Hall, another gentleman was becoming interested in the event. Lord Smallwood, who had told his hostess earlier that he had no intention of participating in such “rustic folderol,” was dressing himself in his evening clothes. When he later joined Lady Phyllis at the bottom of the stairs, she looked at him in surprise. “I thought, Smallwood, that you didn’t want to attend this affair tonight. Didn’t you say that this sort of evening would be a great bore for you?”

“Yes, but I changed my mind. I want to observe your son and this Branscombe chit with my own eyes before I take it on myself to inform my daughter that her expectations are hopeless.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Phyllis said flatly. “You won’t learn anything of that nature tonight. Tris and Julie are not the sort to make public display of their feelings.”

“Don’t underestimate my powers of observation, ma’am.”

She shrugged. “In any case, whatever your reason, I’m glad you’re going. Here, let me adjust your neckcloth. You’ve got it twisted around somehow.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, offering himself to her ministrations. “It’s a deuced nuisance dressing for a formal evening without a valet. If I’d known how long we would be here, I’d certainly have taken my fellow with me.

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