A Christmas Cotillion

by Ellie Thomas

  Towards the end of this activity, Jonathan found himself with another gentleman, both asked to put the finishing touches to the entrance hall. The door to the main drawing room was open and they could hear the giggles and exclamations of the main group of young people as they laughingly completed the decorations for that room. Freddy, unsurprisingly, was the loudest amongst them.

  For the hallway with its high cornices, a step ladder was required, and this was promptly brought in by an able fellow, a friend of the family and one of the temporary helpers. Jonathan had gathered that the Grants had a relatively small permanent staff, and so had asked the sons and daughters of the locality, of any social standing, who would serve when needed, but were clearly expected to join in as guests as well. Jonathan applauded this comfortable social fluidity that added more informality and jollity to every occasion.

  As the ladder was placed and affixed firmly with a twinkling grin, Jonathan quickly quashed a twinge of attraction and murmured a polite thanks while glancing away to hide his feelings. He had noticed this particular young man on several occasions. He was one of the sons of a well-to-do local farmer, a gentleman whom Jonathan had conversed with at length. Despite being a guest, the farmer’s son was happy to be a helper too and threaded easily through the crowds with a tray of drinks and a charming smile for everyone.

  It was not only that generous smile but his unruly dark curls and deep blue eyes that caught Jonathan’s attention. He joined in the dancing to make up the numbers with enviable ease and Jonathan surreptitiously watched his lithe build as he swooped and twirled with admirable grace.

  Jonathan deliberately avoided looking after him as the young man, having made sure the ladder was steady, left them to their task. He turned his attention to his fellow guest. He had initially guessed Mr. Hammond to be a few years older than himself, due to his portly build and rather ponderous manner. Through conversation with a local matron, he had learned that, in fact, he was a few years younger, only in his middle twenties, and still a bachelor.

  He was regarded locally as a solid man and shrewd in business, respected by the older generation with whom he seemed to mingle. After observing him, it was clear that blushing reticence around young ladies was the reason he did not join with the young, lively crowd where his age should make him belong. He seemed to be conscious of that fact as his eyes drifted wistfully towards the fun and games when he thought no one was looking.

  Since Mr. Hammond was of a somewhat heavier build, Jonathan volunteered to step up the ladder, with Mr. Hammond handing him the lengths of greenery to place along the plaster coving just below the ceiling. They got into a rhythm and so Jonathan was mildly surprised when he turned around to collect the next to last frond to find that his fellow worker was distracted from his task.

  Mr. Hammond’s eyes had drifted towards the open door of the drawing-room from where the sounds of lively merriment, including Freddy’s irrepressible laughter, was wafting. Jonathan was slightly surprised by the depth of unhappiness on his rather stolid features.

  Mr. Hammond recovered himself with a start and immediately resumed his task as a helper. “Oh, I’m so sorry, excuse me,” he said contritely, handing up a fine branch of greenery.

  “No need for an apology,” Jonathan said smoothly, not revealing that he had noticed Mr. Hammond’s yearning expression. “We are nearly finished here and then you can join the hilarity.” He placed the final frond in position and started to descend the ladder.

  “Oh, I don’t think they need me interfering with their amusements,” said Mr. Hammond with such a tinge of sadness to his tone that Jonathan looked at him sharply. There was more to this than he had guessed. This was not mere shyness in feminine company.

  Freddy’s laughter again rang out loud and clear above the rest of the melee and Mr. Hammond’s usually cheerful face settled into a definite frown.

  Aha, so that’s it, Jonathan thought as he began to guess at the cause of the young man’s dismay. “I don’t think it would do Frederick any harm to have another gentleman in the room to dilute his high spirits,” he said equably.

  Mr. Hammond flushed unbecomingly and gulped. “Your cousin is such a charming and cheerful and handsome young gentleman, it’s not surprising that…” He tailed off wistfully.

  Jonathan stepped off the final rung of the ladder onto the tiled floor. “Freddy is indeed lively,” he said, “but the ladies also enjoy calmer company too,” he added, thinking of but not openly referring to one particular young lady.

  Mr. Hammond gave a startled smile, which lit up his heavy features with unexpected sweetness. It was typical of his diffidence and courtesy that, rather than joining the company in the drawing-room as encouraged, he insisted on taking the ladder back to the store-room.

  Jonathan was thoughtful as he walked into the room where lively chaos reigned. There would be no harm in giving Freddy a bit of rivalry, he mused to himself. And as he made himself useful, he quietly made a mental note to get Miss Belinda and Mr. Hammond dancing together one evening soon.

  Chapter 5

  Christmas Day was one of great enjoyment. The ground floor of the house was redolent with the scent of rich greenery, all tastefully arranged and widely praised. The local church was packed for the morning service as they sang joyous carols. Then they returned to the house to feast, the children playing with their new toys while the table was arranged to be big enough for all the company.

  Despite the crowd of people, it felt oddly intimate, as the Grants had let most of the staff celebrate with their own families. In this way, guests served themselves with food and even volunteered to take some of the serving dishes back to the kitchens. The whole atmosphere of amicable Christmas spirit made this enjoyable.

  Jonathan marvelled at the informality of the Grants’ household. In his own spare bachelor home, he was used to shifting for himself, but the Grants could afford to have as many servants as they pleased, just to underline their status.

  Despite being comfortably off and living in a large residence, they were very easy in their ways and unthinkingly did tasks for themselves, rather than expecting an employee to race to their aid. The staff was evidently considered part of the family and the informal temporary help were accustomed to coming in and out of the house in the most relaxed way. It made for a jolly atmosphere.

  While the older members of the company rested from an excess of food and the younger went outdoors to walk off their high spirits, the house was quiet in the early twilight. Replete from feasting and armed with a glass of brandy, Jonathan settled by the fire in the library with one of the more senior members of the Grant family, who after a few minutes of desultory conversation, fell soundly asleep.

  As he listened to the ticking clock and the crackle of the fire plus the soft snores from his companion, Jonathan felt more relaxed than he had done in years. The good food and merry company were irresistible and his face ached from smiling more than usual.

  As he sat comfortably and quietly, his life at home seemed like a hair shirt in comparison, bleak and driven. Yes, of course, he reasoned to himself, he had to work hard on the farm initially and he had a parcel of relatives to care for, but need it be quite so joyless?

  He mused on this while swirling the brandy in the glass against the warmth of the fire, the rich tawny shade and aroma of the liquid seeming to coalesce his train of thought.

  Life had been so different once, full of excitement, adventure, love, even…His recollections nudged against that painfully sore spot in his memory, but for once he did not flinch or withdraw, but let the years roll back and the reminiscences fill his mind.

  It was at university that life had become so vivid. Before then, his young existence had been somewhat functional and grey. The early loss of both parents, who he could barely remember, resulted in the stewardship of his two elderly great uncles. Despite neither being married, they had taken on the responsibility of the boy without fuss and catered for his practical needs. Jonathan recollected his c
hildhood and adolescence being dominated by similar Spartan routines, both in term time and at home, shuttling between one uncle and the other.

  And so, unsurprisingly, his first term at Oxford was a revelation.

  This was particularly because, in his sheltered ignorance, he had expected nothing different. He had assumed it would be much like school; a mainly male environment with a strict pecking order and an emphasis on scholastic achievement or athleticism.

  Indeed, that was so, but alongside all that was so much more freedom than he could have ever imagined. At first, he stood on the sidelines, observing his peers as they eagerly took their fill of wine, women, and song. The female amours were no issue for him and also, he was too wary to get involved with so much heavy spending, heavy drinking, and gambling, none of which he could afford. During his upbringing, his uncles had taken their responsibilities seriously in that quarter as to what proper conduct and expenditure was expected of him as a sprig of the noble Cavendish line.

  Gradually and inevitably though, he had made friends and his lack of extremes in manner caused him to be considered as a sound sort of fellow and so his university life was unremarkable and settled. And then he met Sebastian. God, even after all these years, even rolling the name around in his mind gave up a kaleidoscope of memories, full of colour, life, and brilliance.

  That first sighting was etched in his mind. He and a friend were walking across the quad between lectures and suddenly Sebastian was there, joking with a group of friends, head thrown back in irresistible laughter, that gorgeous column of pale throat exposed above his neckcloth. Jonathan’s mouth went dry at the memory. He took another sip of brandy.

  Even at that initial glimpse, then shortly afterwards, when they were introduced, Sebastian had seemed gilded and glowing to Jonathan. His golden hair, mobile features, and light cerulean eyes made Jonathan want to adulate him like an Adonis, or even a Greek god.

  He was happy enough to worship from afar, to get a tingle of magic when he caught a glimpse of his idol. And so he was amazed when Sebastian sought him out, stepping outside his own exclusive circle, deliberately befriending him, and seeming almost shy in his advances.

  Jonathan was dazzled. They had become lovers very quickly and he had experienced those pangs and darts and arrows of first love all at once. He had known his nature at school but not acted upon it, through both native caution and not wanting to disgrace his uncles. It was a well-known fact that young men who played sexual games a little too obviously or became over-serious about their crushes were expelled without hesitation.

  Sebastian had no such concerns for what he dismissively called parochial morality and did not seem to care about showing his affection for Jonathan. At the time, this was liberating, as though their love took them beyond social rules. As an older, wiser man, Jonathan reflected that it was more Sebastian’s aristocratic background that made him feel untouchable. After all, he was wealthy enough to act above the law, oblivious to the consequences for more ordinary men.

  Rather than fizzling out, as Jonathan had half-expected, their relationship had blossomed over the final year of his studies. When it was time for them to leave Oxford, there was no question of them being parted. Sebastian was taking rooms in a fashionable part of London and it seemed natural and unremarkable for Jonathan to share with him, as many young men did.

  They lived together happily, a confirmed couple to their close intimates and just good friends to their families and the wider social circle. Due to his nature and more modest income, Jonathan had a quiet routine, while Sebastian, at least during the season, attended balls and soirees and dabbled at the fashionable West End gaming hells.

  For those precious few years, it seemed like they complemented each other perfectly. Opposites really can attract, Jonathan smiled a little sadly to himself. Sebastian drew Jonathan out of his self-protective shell, made him more outgoing and socially confident, while Jonathan calmed down Sebastian’s more erratic, impulsive nature.

  However different their natures and income, privately, their lovemaking was always joyous, always equal. Jonathan remembered all shared laughter and private jokes and the sheer, breathtaking beauty of his lover.

  But, perhaps inevitably, after a long season in the sun, the cracks began to show. Jonathan was spending more time in the countryside with his ageing uncles as they grew more frail. Sebastian was understanding of this at first and on Jonathan’s return to their rooms, their reconciliations were more passionate than ever.

  However, it became clear that Sebastian was growing bored with the social round in London, especially when the repetitive routine was emphasised by Jonathan’s absences. As the seemingly endless war in Europe drew to a close, he was eager to spread his wings and travel abroad, in a Grand Tour that had been the norm for his father and grandfather before him, before Napoleon had put a stop to such excursions.

  At first, it was nothing but exhilarating to join in with these projects, buoyed by Sebastian’s eager enthusiasm. Together, they discussed where they would travel, what they would see, and all the adventures they would share.

  Looking back, Jonathan realised that he had already begun to mature by this time, having taken on more responsibility for his uncles. Rather than resenting the increasing burden of care, he took on the mantle gladly. For him, it was merely a return for all the years of his childhood when his uncles had provided him with their protection.

  Also, although never bored of Sebastian’s company, he found the life of mindless pleasure in London a little dulling. He rather missed the academic discipline of school and university and so he felt it sharpened his brain and wits to assist his uncles gathering together their various legal papers to get their life’s business in some order.

  As an orphan without siblings, he felt a sense of belonging during his increasingly frequent visits. He enjoyed listening to the reminiscences about his parents and long-gone family members. Even if he hadn’t comprehended this at the time, he knew now that he was never cut out to be a kept man, his only desire being his lover’s momentary whim.

  The sad passing of one uncle left him surprisingly bereft and he ploughed his energies into disposing of the settlements as to the old man’s precise wishes. Little more than a year later, the death of his remaining uncle made him the heir to an estate, if you could call it that, he thought with a rueful smile. Tumbledown ruin it might have been, but it still entailed an obligation.

  Sebastian would not understand. Could not understand, for his was a life without any accountability. If something needed doing, he directed a man of business to take care of it for him and promptly forgot about it. After all, that was what money was for.

  And so, for some months, Jonathan vacillated, torn between family duties and the life of thoughtless ease his lover expected him to lead. He remembered how he felt permanently exhausted from balancing his two existences, trying to sort out his uncle’s neglected lands and at the same time playing the role of Sebastian’s carefree companion.

  Inevitably, Sebastian’s vague plans for his continental excursion became more confirmed and so he became more impatient at each delay. “Why can’t we go now?” he’d ask, exasperated at what he saw as Jonathan’s excuses, running a careless hand through that golden mane Jonathan adored so much.

  Jonathan desperately tried to placate him, asking for a few more weeks to settle his affairs, running himself ragged at trying to fix years of neglect at the farm in no time at all and with limited resources. The uneasy compromise continued for some months until an unexpected event toppled everything.

  Jonathan got the tragic news that his mother’s younger brother had died suddenly of a fever, leaving his Aunt Matilda and a brood of small children without protection. On the announcement of yet another death in the family, Sebastian let him leave town with barely concealed irritation and impatience.

  While Jonathan comforted the grieving widow and sorted out her husband’s tangled business dealings to her everlasting relief, he realised th
at he was now truly the head of the family. He could no longer pretend to himself that he could run away and leave all his responsibilities.

  When he returned to London, much later than he had hoped, Sebastian was bitterly resolved. The rows were dreadful. Jonathan, usually so stoical and calm, had been reduced to tears and uncharacteristically distraught pleading.

  “My aunt needs me,” he tried to explain, his voice breaking with emotion. “I cannot abandon her with no resources and the fear she might lose her home. She requires a male relative to intervene with the bank and lawyers and I am the only one she has. There is no one else to assist her.”

  “But why must we delay, again?” Sebastian railed at him, eyes blazing angrily. “I need you too. Much more than your assorted incumbent relatives.” He dismissed Jonathan’s Aunt Matilda and his nieces and nephews with an airy wave of his hand.

  “It will be just a little while,” Jonathan begged. “Just wait for me, please.”

  “For how long? Days, weeks, months, years even? I cannot delay my life and plans forever at your leisure.” With that, Sebastian turned on his heel, departing to yet another soiree without a goodbye.

  Looking back, it was clear to Jonathan that they had already gone their separate ways well before their physical parting. It was just that at the time, under so much pressure, he simply couldn’t perceive that. Jonathan loved Sebastian, there was no question of that, but he was also deeply committed to his family’s well-being and security. Unlike Sebastian, he did not grudge his uncle’s widow the need of his time and services. She and the children were his only remaining relatives, after all.

  Also, in truth, if he was honest with himself as he dared not be with his lover, he did not want to leave the farm to another’s supervision, even if he could have afforded that. He felt a need to do the necessary restorations on the property for and by himself and was eager to get stuck into the hard physical work that entailed.