Invitation to the Dance

by Tamara Allen

  “I would, indeed.”

  Mr. Mayhew looked after Archie with a considering air. “He was most kind to us that night the streets went dark.”

  “Conscientious as the day is long,” Charlie said, affection creeping into his tone.

  “I like that in a fellow,” Mr. Mayhew remarked.

  Charlie looked at Will and smiled. “So do I.”

  Will acknowledged the compliment with a small smile, one that was half-warning for Charlie to tread carefully. “Constable Doolan is a man worthy of his uniform. I can see why Rose might be taken with him.”

  Mr. Mayhew’s brows knit. “Is she?”

  Before the idea had a chance to make any deeper impression on him, Mrs. Mayhew escaped Caroline’s nets and latched firmly on to his arm. “My dear, where have you let Rose toddle off to? I wished a word with Lord Belcourt—”

  “Rose wished to dance.”

  “But Lord Belcourt—”

  “If Belcourt wants to dance with Rose, he will ask her.” Mr. Mayhew smiled despite his apparent exasperation. “In the meantime, you’ll have to settle for presenting me to Lord Belcourt… Or waltzing me ’round, a time or two.”

  Mrs. Mayhew only looked stern. “You will take me seriously. For our daughter’s sake, if nothing else.”

  Mr. Mayhew sighed. “My dear, I always take you seriously.” He offered his arm. “We will pay our respects.”

  When they were well out of earshot, Charlie echoed Mr. Mayhew’s sigh. “Do you suppose we won him over?”

  “I don’t know that we did. Archie may yet. Shall I ask Miss Donnett to dance?” Will looked for her, only to find she’d pierced the battlements around Belcourt and was occupying all his attention, to the disappointment of the young ladies still fluttering about.

  Charlie laughed. “Poor old Smitty. I’ll dance with you.”

  Will snorted. “I don’t care to be hauled off in a police wagon. Here comes Mr. Knox—”

  “I’m not dancing with him,” Charlie said.

  “Just as well. He appears to have something else in mind.”

  “Oh, he’s got his nose out of joint because I talked to Mayhew.”

  “I think he means to give yours a similar adjustment.”

  Charlie glanced around as Knox approached. “Let him try.”

  “Charlie…”

  “I won’t start a thing.” Charlie’s polite air grew more pointed as he turned to Isaiah Knox. “Mr. Knox, good evening. Patch things up with Lord Belcourt?”

  Will’s breath caught and he shot Charlie a warning glance. Knox’s already grim countenance went two shades darker. “I beg your pardon?”

  Charlie was the picture of innocence. “I’m not being intrusive, I hope. I just recall overhearing a row the two of you were having, and I wanted to reassure myself no lasting damage was done. But if you’d prefer not to speak of it—”

  “I am on the best of terms with Lord Belcourt.” His voice lowered, Knox stepped closer, towering over Charlie’s not inconsiderable height. “I cannot say the same of you, Mr. Kohlbeck, if you persist in interfering in my business. I hope I make my meaning clear.”

  “Mr. Mayhew didn’t care to be coerced into a hasty purchase. I only encouraged him to trust his instincts.” Charlie lowered his own voice, leaning in. “I expect you’ll find Mr. Whitmore feels the same… And I’m sure you can appreciate their caution. After all, a good number of fellows have come to ruin, buying land without a proper visit to see just what they’re getting for their money.”

  “You want them to believe I mean to cheat them.” Knox’s tone was cool, but Will saw the tight set of his jaw.

  Charlie remained as cool. “Mr. Mayhew turned you down and still you’re pushing him to invest, but you discourage him from visiting the properties.”

  “I haven’t discouraged him.”

  “You’re asking a fortune up front just for an inspection.”

  “A trip west has its costs—”

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars?”

  “Gentlemen,” Will interrupted quietly. “This isn’t the place.”

  “Mr. Nesmith, I will ask you to instruct your secretary to stay out of my business.” Knox’s gaze didn’t break from Charlie’s. “For his own sake.”

  Angered by the threat, Will held his tongue with an effort, waiting until Knox had stalked away. “Charlie, we must stay out of it. Neither Mr. Mayhew nor Mr. Whitmore will agree to invest, and that will discourage anyone else Knox decides to approach.”

  “Perhaps.” Charlie’s own irritation made itself heard in the breath he exhaled. “I suppose you think he should’ve punched me in the nose.”

  Will smiled. “Why would I think that?”

  “Because I half-think it, myself. I know I’ve been quick to judge him. But the way he does business…” Charlie shook his head. “It’s not right.”

  Will clapped him on the shoulder. You know, I wish I could dance with you.”

  “Maybe later.”

  The glimmer in Charlie’s eyes was unmistakable and Will had to laugh. “I don’t know if that may be defined as dancing.”

  Charlie took a step closer to him. “Have some champagne.”

  “I thought we vowed to stay away from it this evening.”

  “Oh, no. You’ve got to be quite drunk if we’re to have an acceptable excuse for going no farther than the hotel next door once this refined torture is over.”

  But the refined torture had only begun, and the hour was well past eleven when Will, convinced he’d danced with nearly everyone but Charlie, sought refuge in the dining room and found Mr. Mayhew, Caroline, and Charlie already partaking. Mrs. Mayhew had gone in search of Rose, who, by Charlie’s reckoning, had done an exemplary job of avoiding both her mother and Lord Belcourt for the better part of the evening. Will did not inquire after Archie, confident of his whereabouts; and when he did appear, Rose on his arm, both of them breathless, red-cheeked, and beaming, it seemed fortuitous that Mrs. Mayhew had not returned.

  Mr. Mayhew was smiling to himself as he went in search of her, and as Rose and Archie sat for supper, Will reluctantly deemed it time to share his news. With the assistance of the last of his champagne and Charlie’s uneasy but encouraging smile, he plunged in. “I was thinking to tell you all at the end of the evening…” He cleared his throat. “But it seems better to do so now, so our good-byes needn’t be hasty—”

  “Oh, no,” Rose protested, turning to him. “Not already?”

  Guilt stung him and he tried to hide it behind a rueful smile. “I’m sorry to say it’s become necessary for me to head back home. I’ve stayed away quite a time and…Well, you understand. Things can only be left undone so long.”

  “When will you visit again?” Rose impulsively clutched his hand. “You will come back?”

  “Well, I can’t say just when.” Will gave her hand a fond squeeze. “You know you’ve made my stay a pleasure, you and your family. I can’t adequately thank you—”

  “Promise to visit us again.” Her gaze brightened. “We can’t lose you to the wilds of California forever.”

  Charlie came to his aid. “If he begins to work too hard, I’ll put him on a train and ship him to you directly.”

  “Yes!” Rose exclaimed. “And Mr. Kohlbeck will take very good care of you in the meantime,” she said with an earnest glance at Charlie.

  “The best of care,” Charlie said, the incorrigible sparkle in his own gaze aimed at Will.

  A retort seemed in order, but Will was too heavy-hearted. It might have just as easily been the right moment for the entire truth, but he hadn’t the courage for it, knowing the hurt and disappointment it would cause. It was an evening Rose would remember. He knew as much, just looking into her face and Archie’s. Will couldn’t bring himself to spoil that.

  Charlie seemed aware of his discomfort and carried on with rather ridiculous tales about life in California, keeping spirits up at the table until Mrs. Mayhew finally appeared, sailing along on Lord Belcourt�
��s arm like the Queen of May. Belcourt, for his part, resembled a fox in a trap; but at the sight of so many familiar faces, he seemed to rally. “Miss Donnett, Mr. Nesmith, it’s a pleasure.” His glance flickered to Charlie. “Mr. Kohlbeck…” He paused, clearing his throat nervously, and Charlie snorted.

  “It’s a pleasure,” he said in turn, without any real heat, and Lord Belcourt laughed.

  “Yes, indeed.” He ran a finger under his collar as if it were too snug. “My dear Miss Mayhew…” He gingerly withdrew from the mother and bowed to the daughter. “I know the hour is growing late, but would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

  Rose looked as though she’d wakened too abruptly from a pleasant dream. “Oh…” With a furtive glance at Archie, she seemed to find her bearings and her old shy smile. “Yes, certainly, my lord.”

  He offered his arm as she stood, and they proceeded, with perfect grace and no apparent enthusiasm, to the floor. Mrs. Mayhew took Rose’s empty chair with an air of triumph. “Such a dear man! And don’t they look well together? Timothy, we must have Lord Belcourt to tea this week so they may have a chance to become better acquainted. One can hardly hold a conversation for five minutes at these big affairs—”

  “Certainly, my dear,” Mr. Mayhew said quietly. “Have some cake.” He gave her his plate and a stray fork. “I think I should like to invite everyone here for tea this week. Perhaps we can make a jolly luncheon of it.”

  Mrs. Mayhew’s smile turned pensive. “Well, of course we may. Though it will be a busy week, with all the holiday parties coming up.”

  Relieved that he would not be attending a single one of them, Will decided to enjoy what was left of the Whitmores’. Before supper ended and the young ladies resumed their hunt for partners, he asked Caroline to dance and she delightedly accepted. Once on the floor, he began by apologizing for the continued charade, but she waved that away.

  “I’m sorry to see it end as it’s been rather fun, really. But I must inquire whether you mean to go on boarding with us.” She smiled with a certain impishness. “What I wonder is whether you will be quite comfortable, staying on, when there’s a chance Mr. Doolan’s courtship of Miss Mayhew may continue.”

  “I’ll confess I’ve been tempted to tell Miss Mayhew the truth. I’m afraid she won’t forgive it, but my lies have troubled me most where she’s concerned.”

  “I’ll not discourage you from making a clean breast of it, but you must be sure Rose understands that Mr. Doolan played no part in it.”

  “Oh, of course.” A new worry pushed forward. “You don’t suppose if she’s angry with me, she’ll stay away?”

  Caroline’s smile was altogether motherly. “Rose strikes me as a kind and sensible young woman. If you and Mr. Kohlbeck explain it all with proper care, she may come to forgive you… And I very much doubt she’ll think ill of Mr. Doolan, at any rate.”

  “Perhaps I should find new lodgings,” Will ventured uneasily. “I’ve taken advantage of your kindness and Archie’s—”

  “Nonsense. I’m quite happy to look after my boarders.” Caroline lifted a hand from his shoulder to pat his cheek. “You are welcome to stay…” The impish light returned. “Just do remember to be discreet when you come home late from a night out.”

  All other worries winked out as an old and too familiar one turned his insides into knots. “I didn’t realize we’d disturbed you—”

  “Now don’t look so anxious, my dear man. I know young fellows like to prowl about town now and then, and I’ve no rules against it. I only ask that you’re careful and don’t set the neighborhood to talking. Mr. Kohlbeck has been good about it and I know you’ll be the same.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” It was a near gasp but he couldn’t help it. She didn’t know everything, it seemed—and thank God for that. He’d already risked discovery to an extent that, just a short time ago, he wouldn’t have thought possible. He’d been so careful since leaving school, well aware that a reputation was not an easy thing to regain—and prison wasn’t a wished for ideal, either. No man since then had upset his determination to stay sensible and safe.

  None but Charlie.

  Life teemed with rediscovered pitfalls, but Will couldn’t imagine the days ahead without him. Charlie had been kind enough to go along with his desire for restraint, though Will knew the so-called vow of chastity was trying. He was ready to do away with it, himself. It had been on his mind all evening, the thought of their rented quarters at the old hotel, and he wanted nothing more than to be there with Charlie in his arms.

  Wondering where Charlie had gotten to, Will escorted Caroline into the dining room for a glass of champagne, only to lose her company to Mr. Whitmore, who came by to request a dance. Before he could be similarly engaged, Will decided to hunt down Charlie; but no trace of him was to be discovered in the ballroom or the long corridor adjacent. Leaving the crowd behind, Will wandered into another hall, one of closed doors with private rooms he had no business entering.

  About to give up and try another direction, he noticed moonlight shining from an open door farther down; and there was Charlie, stepping out… Only to step right back inside, apparently without catching sight of Will. He seemed strangely agitated, and the thought of Knox’s threat launched Will into an alarmed dash down the corridor. He sprang into the room, only to find it wasn’t Knox, but Rose who was the cause of Charlie’s agitation—wholly, Will realized, because of her own. Her balled up gloves serving as a kerchief but doing little to stem her tears, she’d found refuge against Charlie’s shoulder while he gingerly patted her on the back. His gaze flickered to Will and relief flooded his features. “Thank God. Smitty, come sort this out, will you? I don’t know what to do.”

  “Whatever is the matter?” Will laid a hand over Rose’s tightly curled fist. “My dear girl, what is it?”

  Rose lifted her tear-streaked face and the anguish there alarmed Will further. A sob broke from her and she clasped Will’s hand with both of hers. “What can I do? It’s the end of everything!”

  “Rose—”

  “It’s terrible—”

  “Rose…”

  She burst into fresh tears and buried her face against his coat. He’d never seen her so stricken and he looked up at Charlie helplessly. “What is it?”

  Charlie looked grim. “Lord Belcourt has asked her to marry him.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Will would set things right—or at the very least, find the proper words to cheer Rose. Charlie’d had no luck at it, but he was ordinarily at a loss when it came to teary-eyed girls. He didn’t know how to liven her up again except with reassurances she wouldn’t believe, and he was damned glad to see Will wandering down the hall as if some intuition had told him he was needed.

  But with Rose weeping on his shoulder and the terrible news revealed, Will seemed as much at a loss as Charlie had been moments ago. “He asked you? What did you say?”

  Rose drew back, bowing her head to furtively dry her cheeks as if she were embarrassed. “I didn’t say anything. I just…” Her voice was taut and breathless and she pressed her hand to her lips. “I ran away.”

  Charlie whistled low in admiration. “You just left him standing out on the floor, alone?”

  “Charlie.” Will shot him a stern glance. “Rose, would you like me to go find your father?”

  “I’ll go,” Charlie said, sensing some kind of penance was called for.

  “Oh, please, no,” Rose gasped. “I can’t talk to him right now. He’ll want me to give some sort of answer, even if it’s no. And that will cause such a stir—”

  “I think you’ve already caused a stir,” Charlie began, only to hesitate when Will looked at him plaintively. “What’s the matter? It must be spreading like fire, considering the attention Belcourt’s been getting this evening. Too bad Archie didn’t propose first.”

  Will poked him in the ribs—and Rose, to his surprise, laughed. “After so little time… And yet how I wish he would! But I can’t explain it t
o my parents. They’ll never understand my refusing Lord Belcourt when they thought I liked him well enough before…” She pressed her hand to her lips, visibly struggling to keep her composure.

  “Look here,” Charlie said. “If they want an excuse, tell them Will proposed first—”

  Will made a disbelieving noise. “I will quite lock you in the closet.”

  “Hear me out,” Charlie said, letting his own exasperation show. “It’s all right for a girl to hold off on an answer if she’s got two fellows chasing after her, right? Meanwhile, we’ll have your folks to tea and they’ll see what a fine catch Archie is. I think your father’s already got an idea that you and Archie…”

  “But you’re going back to California,” Rose said, turning to Will. “Would you stay?” she asked as if she dared not hope. “Just a few more days?”

  Will seemed to be trying to come to terms with the proposal Charlie had all but made on his behalf. “We could—”

  “Of course we could.” Charlie clapped Will on the shoulder. “You can’t run out of town now that you’re in contention for Rose’s hand.”

  Charlie thought Will might yet lock him in a closet—but the wished-for suitor appeared in the doorway, and the sight of him did what none of Will and Charlie’s reassurances could. Rose was fairly shining. “I hoped you might come.”

  “It’s true, then?”

  “Lord Belcourt proposed, but I gave him no answer.” Rose drew closer and Archie tenderly brushed away her tears.

  “You needn’t give him one tonight. Let me drive you home. I’ll tell your parents—”

  “No.” Rose was pale but seemingly resolved. “I’ll tell him I need time… Though I suppose I made that clear already,” she said with a rueful smile. “If you will escort me back…” She took the arm he offered and rested her head against his shoulder. “Just don’t let anyone else ask me to dance.” Her voice went softer. “I want to say good-night with this loveliness to send me to sleep.”

  “I’d be happy to dance with you…” His voice dropped, and the shyest smile turned the corners of his mouth. “All the days of my life.”