Otherwise Engaged

by Joanna Barker

  I took pity on him. “Are you very well acquainted with Lieutenant Avery?”

  Mr. Hambley grasped on to my words gratefully. “No, not very. It was a kindness for him to include me in the party.”

  Perhaps less kindness than the fact that Nicholas hardly knew anyone beyond the souls in this room here. But I did not mention that.

  “He is kind indeed,” I said instead.

  “You must know him better than I,” Mr. Hambley said. “Your mother mentioned you and he are friends, and that . . .” He hesitated, shifting his weight uneasily.

  “That she thinks we would make a good match?” I finished for him. “You needn’t worry about spilling her secret. I am well aware.”

  He gave a chuckle. “The two of you are as close as any mother and daughter I have known.”

  Guilt pooled inside me. That statement had perhaps once been true. I could only hope it would be true again soon, once I could finally tell her the truth about Edward and me.

  “Your opinion means a great deal to her,” he went on. “She quite depends on it.”

  My fingers had been toying with my skirt, but now they stilled. “What do you mean by that?”

  He grimaced, his face reddening. Mr. Hambley was no master of conversation. He’d just given something away he should not have. I quickly thought over the happenings of the last few weeks. When Mama had told me about Mr. Hambley before the ball, it had seemed as if the two of them had been very nearly engaged. And what of our conversation in the coach when we’d gone into town? I’d told her then not to hold back on my account. Why then had they not announced anything?

  But I knew why. It was because of me. I may have told Mama I had accepted Mr. Hambley, but my actions said otherwise. I only interacted with him when necessary and avoided conversation if at all possible. I hadn’t meant to be rude. But I had been uncomfortable, and Mama had seen it, despite all my assurances.

  “Mr. Hambley,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Do you love my mother?”

  He blinked at the sudden change in topic but did not shy away from my bold question. “I do.”

  “And you would see her happy?”

  “I would.”

  “Then please know I have no objections to your marrying her.” I laid a hand on his arm. “It is clear that I have been the cause of some anxiety between you, and I am sorry for it. It was never a judgment against you but rather a reflection of my own problems.”

  He did not respond for a long moment, but then he patted my hand. “Thank you, Miss Rowley.”

  “Rebecca,” I corrected him. “You must call me Rebecca if we are to be family.”

  Family. It had been Mama, Rachel, William, and me for so long. But Rachel had married, then William, and now Mama. Hopefully, Edward would add to our ranks soon. Our family was growing, and I would have to adjust.

  Mr. Hambley nodded, pleased. “Rebecca, then.”

  A cascade of laughter caught my attention. Sarah stood beside Nicholas by the door, and she leaned forward to set her hand on his arm, smiling up at him as she said something.

  Well. Good. It seemed as though Sarah would not be difficult to convince. Why my hands clenched into the skirts of my dress, I could not say.

  Nicholas was harder to read. He wore a smile, but if he meant more than politeness, it was impossible to tell. He did not lean toward Sarah though. Not like she was.

  “If you’d like to be with your friends,” Mr. Hambley said, noticing my distraction, “I’ll not be offended, I promise.”

  “If you are sure?” I couldn’t play matchmaker from across the room, though Sarah hardly seemed as though she needed any aid.

  “Of course,” he said kindly. “Though I should like to know you better in the future.”

  “I would like that as well.” I was surprised to find I meant it. Mr. Hambley was certainly not who I would have picked for my mother, but perhaps that was a good thing.

  I left him and made my way across the room, eyeing Sarah and Nicholas as I approached. Sarah saw me first.

  “There you are, Rebecca!” she exclaimed. “Come, I was just telling Lieutenant Avery about the assembly last summer. Do you recall?”

  “Wherein you danced so much you fainted?” I came to stand beside Nicholas.

  “Nearly fainted,” she emphasized. “Mr. Clark saved me, did he not?” But then she looked quickly at Nicholas. “That is, he helped me to a seat. But I cannot resist dancing until my feet refuse to move. Are you not the same, Lieutenant?”

  “I am afraid I only attend balls when coerced,” Nicholas said. “Dancing is not a particular skill of mine.”

  “Nonsense,” Sarah said, swatting his arm. “You danced splendidly at the assembly. You cannot hate it entirely.”

  “No, not entirely.” He sent me a sly glance. “I tolerate it so long as my partner is competent and does not leave bruises on my feet.”

  I had to cough to hide my laugh. It seemed so long ago, that ball where I had tried to frighten him off. How glad I was to have been unsuccessful. Although I couldn’t help but think my life would be a great deal simpler if that attempt had worked.

  I put that idea from my head and focused on Sarah. I needed to convince Nicholas of her virtues, of all she had to recommend her. “Will you be singing for us tonight? I cannot say when I last heard you perform, but surely, it has been too long.”

  She waved me off, though her chest puffed up. “Oh, I haven’t practiced in weeks. I couldn’t possibly.”

  I leaned toward Nicholas as if confiding a secret. “You must convince her to sing. She has absolutely the loveliest voice. You would be enchanted, I have no doubt.”

  “Enchanted?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “You are building his expectations too high, Rebecca,” Sarah scolded me. “Now he shall be disappointed when he does hear me.”

  “I doubt that very much,” he said. “I have no ability to judge musical talents. So even if you are terrible, Miss Mason, I would be the last to know.”

  She laughed again, that tinkling sound that somehow felt equally effortless and deliberate. “What a tease you are, Lieutenant Avery.”

  Another twinge of jealousy. At least now I could admit that was what I felt. I was far too used to having his attention to myself, his dry humor and quick wit. But that he was jesting with her was a good sign. A sign that he . . . liked her.

  “I cannot say I’ve ever been accused of such a thing before,” Nicholas said. “But if it helps, I am glad to insist you perform for us all later. I am woefully unprepared with any entertainment, so I would be most grateful, really.”

  “But of course,” Sarah said, one corner of her mouth turning up coyly. “If you insist, I cannot say no.”

  The butler stepped in and announced dinner, and we made our way to the dining room. The evening was going exactly as I’d hoped, and yet, the satisfaction I’d expected did not come.

  All through dinner, I kept a close eye on the two of them seated across the table from each other while I sat at the other end. Sarah kept up what appeared to be a delightful conversation. Nicholas never appeared bored, in any case, though I did catch his eyes coming my way more than once. I looked away each time.

  After dinner, Sarah sang, as promised, and she was just as gifted as I remembered. I’d never held much envy for musical talents, but the way she captured the attention of everyone in the room made me wish I had applied myself more. I sat beside Mama and Mrs. Mason, fighting the urge to turn back to see Nicholas’s face. Was he enchanted?

  Sarah curtsied to our enthusiastic applause, and the party scattered to various entertainments. Mama and Mr. Hambley challenged William and me to a game of whist, while the Masons and Juliana sat nearby discussing her school. Sarah sought Nicholas out, and they stood near the windows, apart from the rest of us, talking and laughing. That was, Sarah laughed. Nicholas offer
ed smiles that never seemed wholly sincere. Was I wrong about him liking Sarah? Or was he simply terrible at showing affection?

  Our game of whist lasted an age and a day. When at last William played a trump and claimed the win for our team, I forced myself to join in as he teased Mama and Mr. Hambley over their loss. The two of them did not care in the least, smiling at each other.

  I stood from the table to join Juliana and the Masons, but as I crossed the room, Nicholas caught my eye and gave a pointed gesture with his head, an invitation to join them. I studiously ignored him. They were doing perfectly well on their own. My interference now would only be a distraction.

  I had scarce seated myself before Sarah’s voice exclaimed behind us, “Oh, everyone, do come look at the moon! I declare, I have never seen it so full and bright.”

  “Like how it is every month?” Juliana murmured.

  I smothered a laugh.

  “We should all go outside to see it,” Sarah suggested, facing the rest of us. “I am certain there is a lovely view from the garden.”

  “Yes, let’s.” Mrs. Mason stood immediately.

  If Nicholas cared that his evening had been appropriated, he did an excellent job of hiding it as he and Sarah led the way from the room.

  Juliana stood with a grumble as she awkwardly rose from her armchair. “I am not sure why we could not admire the moon from the window, where we might have the advantage of cushions,” she muttered to me.

  “Hush,” I whispered, though I grinned. “She is simply enthusiastic.”

  “Or perhaps she is attempting to create a romantic atmosphere for some odd reason?” She shot me a knowing look before accepting William’s arm as he led her out of the room, following after the Masons and Mama and Mr. Hambley.

  I trailed behind them all. A full moon was rather romantic. Sarah was brilliant, if that was what she’d intended by this excursion.

  As we made our way into the main hall and toward the back of the house, a maid appeared on the landing of the stairs. She hesitated, then descended and approached Nicholas at the head of our line, Sarah at his side.

  “Might I have a moment, Mr. Avery?” she asked nervously.

  Nicholas waved us ahead. “Go on without me. I shall join you shortly.”

  Sarah gave a small pout of disappointment but went with her parents to follow the butler through the house. As I passed where Nicholas stood listening to the hushed words of the maid, I strained my ears. Why would she have interrupted him amidst a dinner party?

  “. . . won’t be calmed, sir,” I heard her whisper as I came closer. “. . . crying for you.”

  Nicholas did not hesitate as he turned and mounted the stairs two by two, the maid scurrying in his wake. I stopped in the middle of the entryway and stared after them. She had to mean Olivia. What had happened to her? Was she ill again? She had seemed perfectly well when I’d glimpsed her on the stairs earlier.

  I glanced at William and Juliana disappearing through the doorway across the room. No one would notice if I was gone for a few minutes.

  I darted up the stairs, dimly lit by the sconces lining the walls. Reaching the top, I paused to gain my bearings. Though I had visited Olivia a few times, I’d been upstairs just the once, when I’d delivered her basket of tarts. A sharp wail from my left reminded me where to go. I crept forward, my footsteps muffled by the thick carpet lining the corridor. Olivia’s door was ajar, allowing the sounds of her wild sobbing to escape. My hand stilled on the doorframe. Her cries were raw, aching.

  I peeked inside the room, lit by the single candle held by the nursemaid, whom I recognized from my visits. She held her free hand to her mouth, eyes wide and focused entirely on the bed just out of my sight. I inched forward. Nicholas sat on the bed, holding Olivia in his arms, her mop of blonde curls spread over his wide chest as she curled into him. Her slight arms clenched around his neck as she wept, shoulders shaking.

  Nicholas shushed her as he rocked her. “It was a dream,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over her cries. “I’m here. I’m here.”

  “Mama,” she whimpered.

  I pressed a hand to my heart, so badly did it ache for her, and backed away from the door. This was not a moment I was meant to see, no matter how I wanted to help. This was a moment between family, between Nicholas and Olivia.

  I slipped back down the corridor but stopped at the top of the stairs. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the party, to the frivolity and meaningless conversation. I sank to the top step and leaned my head against the cool wood of the banister. Sniffles sounded from the open door, the crying calmed, but the image of Nicholas comforting Olivia was etched in my mind.

  Nicholas constantly doubted that he did enough for Olivia, that he was a good brother and guardian, but tonight only confirmed what I knew about him. He was kind and gentle and generous. His capacity for love was beyond anything I imagined—he loved Olivia, even in her most difficult moments.

  “Rebecca?”

  Nicholas moved toward me through the shadows, passing in and out of the candlelight. I scrambled to my feet and tugged my skirts straight.

  “What are you doing here?” He met me at the top of the stairs.

  “I . . . I heard the maid,” I stammered. “I was worried for Olivia.” He did not respond for a long moment. I tried to be patient, but my tongue did not listen. “Is she all right? She seemed so upset, and I wish there were something I could do to help, but—”

  “She is fine,” he interrupted. “Once her panic calms, she goes back to sleep almost immediately. Her nursemaid is with her now, and Olivia will likely sleep until morning.”

  I leaned back on the banister, balancing against my hands behind me. “It happens often, then?”

  “Not lately,” he said. “This is the first time in weeks. But in the beginning, it was almost nightly.”

  Nightly. I could not imagine. “I hadn’t any idea.”

  He rubbed his neck. “It is Olivia’s struggle, not mine, and she has endured it remarkably well. She used to take hours to settle again, but now it is a matter of minutes. Usually, her nursemaid can see her through it, but sometimes . . .” His voice drifted off.

  “Sometimes Olivia needs you.”

  He nodded and looked back toward Olivia’s room, the candlelight catching the angles of his face—his slightly crooked nose, the wide planes of his jaw, the ridge of his scar along his cheek and neck.

  “She will be past it all soon enough,” he said. “The dreams come so infrequently now, I may dare to hope that was the last.”

  “Then I will hope for that as well.”

  We stood in silence, quiet now that Olivia had gone back to sleep. From beyond the walls, I heard the faint sounds of laughter and voices. Was Mama wondering where I’d gone off to? Perhaps Mr. Hambley kept her sufficiently distracted. But likely, Sarah had noted both my absence and Nicholas’s, which could not be terribly good.

  “We ought to rejoin the party,” I said, pushing away from the banister.

  But he waved me off. “In a moment. I wanted to speak with you.”

  My pulse ticked faster. “What about?”

  “I am only curious,” he said slowly, “why you seemed so determined to pair me off with Miss Mason tonight.”

  I widened my eyes innocently. “Pair you off? I do not know—”

  “You needn’t deny it. It was far too obvious.”

  Why was I so terrible at manipulation? Although, it wouldn’t precisely be something to boast about if I were good at it.

  “I hoped you wouldn’t notice,” I managed. “I thought that you might like her since you invited her tonight.”

  “I invited her because she is your friend.” He crossed his arms. “And I’ll have you know that even if I did like her, I hardly need your help in matters of romance. I am quite capable of wooing a woman.”

  Ju
st those words made my veins run hot. I am quite capable of wooing a woman. I had no doubt about that.

  “I am sorry,” I managed to convince my mouth to say. “I should not have interfered.”

  He scrutinized me, eyes reflecting the golden warmth of the candlelight. “You seemed rather determined. I should tell you that although Miss Mason is pleasant enough, I hardly think her the sort of woman who could—what did you say?—enchant me.”

  “Oh?” I tried to ignore the sudden flutter in my stomach. “So you have begun to think of marriage, then? If you were to leave the navy?”

  He watched me with a curious expression. “Yes, I cannot deny it.”

  “Then I will scour my acquaintances in search of just the right woman for you.” What on earth inspired me to say that?

  His fingers drummed against his arm. “Do not be ridiculous, Rebecca. After tonight, it is perfectly clear that you haven’t the faintest idea what sort of woman I wish to marry.”

  “Sarah Mason is hardly the dregs of Society,” I said dryly. “Your standards for marriage must be demanding indeed.”

  “Realistic is the word I would choose.”

  “And what realistic qualities would such a wife need to possess?”

  He pressed his lips together, debating. Then he stepped closer, a wicked gleam in his eye. “All right, then. Let us play this game. What do I want in a wife? She must be intelligent, first of all.”

  “Naturally,” I agreed, suddenly not certain I wanted to play, judging by that gleam.

  “She must be kind and compassionate,” he went on. “Someone to help me care for Olivia.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Nicholas moved closer, dropping his arms as his gaze fixed on mine. “Good humor is important as well.”

  I swallowed. “The value of laughter cannot be underestimated.”

  He took another step forward, only a pace away from me now. Why was he so close?

  “I would not complain terribly much if she were beautiful,” he said softly as his eyes followed every curve of my face.