Dominic was both pleased and surprised at the information. Odd, though, he thought, that Royce had never mentioned that his father raised horses. But then, wasting little time, Dominic promptly wrote a note, explaining his reason for being in the area and requesting a meeting with Mr. Manchester. Mr. Denham's youngest son, Tom, was pressed into service to see that it was hand-delivered that very evening.
Mr. Manchester's immediate return note was all that Dominic could have wished for, and he retired that night with the pleasurable thought that on the morrow he would see for himself this animal that had aroused much praise from knowledgeable horsemen. From Mr. Manchester's reply, Dominic was certain that by tomorrow night he would be the proud owner of Folly....
Joshua knew very well that no such thing would happen—the most obvious reason being the fact that Folly was not his to sell. And although he might have been named joint guardian of Zachary, he had no illusions about the extent of authority he had over Melissa—under no circumstances would she allow him to order her to sell Folly. So why was Josh misleading Dominic?
The Slade name was not unknown to Josh; his son Royce frequently mentioned Dominic's name, and Josh himself had, years ago, visited the elder Slades at Bonheur. He was acquainted with the extent of their wealth and their respectable background. The fact that Mathew's older brother was an English baron had not escaped his attention, nor that Noelle Slade had been a member of one of the rich and powerful Creole families in New Orleans. And even though he did not know Dominic personally, what he had heard of Mr. Dominic Slade would have interested anyone casting about for an addition to one's family: he was young, reputably handsome, wealthy, charming and, most interesting from Josh's point of view, he was unmarried! Josh had nearly wept with joy when he realized the full import of Dominic's presence in Baton Rouge—since Melissa had turned her nose up at every eligible beau in the neighborhood, perhaps Mr. Dominic Slade would pique her interest!
With this idea in mind, Josh had decided that a little subterfuge on his part might not come amiss; after all, if he told Mr. Slade that his niece, Melissa, was the owner of the horse, he knew very well what would happen. Mr. Slade would ride out to Willowglen, see Melissa, who would, Josh was quite positive, never realize the prize before her and would quite, quite vehemently inform Mr. Slade to go about his business, that Folly was not for sale! And that, Josh had thought sadly, would be that!
However... if he were able to prepare Mr. Slade for what Josh was certain would be an uncomfortable meeting with Melissa, then things might not turn out so disastrously. Given a little time, Josh believed that he could change the course of events. Pacing the elegant confines of his book-lined study, he spent considerable time working out a plan to ensure that when Melissa and Dominic met, Dominic's interest in his niece was sure to be aroused.
He saw no difficulty in delaying that first meeting—there were all sorts of ways of postponing it—and he would use the time to good advantage. First he could look over young Slade for himself and decide if that gentleman really did live up to what he had heard about him. If Dominic proved not to be the paragon he was touted to be, then Josh would send him on his way. But assuming that Slade would be everything that was desirable in a future in-law, Josh would proceed to invite him to stay a few days at Oak Hollow. Royce was sure to second the notion once he learned his friend was in the neighborhood. Mr. Slade would see for himself that the Manchesters were every bit as aristocratic as his own family, that their house was just as elegant and immaculately appointed as Bonheur, that there were hundreds of fertile acres owned by the family and that their background and assets were very similar to his own.
For a moment Josh stopped his pacing and stared at the gleaming top of his fine mahogany desk. The first part of his plan should be simple enough to accomplish, and even introducing Melissa's name into the conversation should present no trouble. During Mr. Slade's visit, he could mention his niece—her loveliness, her lively spiritedness, her gallant struggle to maintain Willowglen. A frown creased Josh's broad forehead. He would have to be careful in that area. Mustn't let young Slade think Melissa was destitute or that she was desperate for a rich husband. No. He would have to walk a very fine line there, giving Slade some warning of what he would find at Willowglen and yet making light of it. He could, he thought, let slip some remark in passing about the rejected John Newcomb, letting Mr. Slade know that the deplorable state of affairs at Willowglen was not viewed as a detriment by other eligible men. Of course, he would have to make it clear that none of Willowglen's problems were of Melissa's making, but he would have to skirt around Hugh's wastrel habits.
Josh sighed. It was going to be tricky, and for just a second he wondered why he had ever considered trying his hand at matchmaking. Then, thinking of the trust, of the uncomfortable interview he had had with his banker just last week, he stiffened his massive shoulders and continued with his plotting.
Josh foresaw no immediate obstacles in his handling of Dominic Slade and was confident that once he had dropped his hints and had gotten Mr. Slade in the right frame of mind, Melissa's beauty would do the rest. Mr. Slade would take one look at her glowing features and succumb just like all the others.
Deliberately Josh closed his mind to Melissa's probable reaction to all of his plans, but he knew the time had come that he must consider what to do about her stubborn, willful and incomprehensible refusal to act like any other normal young lady and fall in love and marry. His expression gloomy, he poured himself a stout drink of Monongahela rye.
There was no use trying to reason with her—she was unreasonable! There was no use trying to explain all the advantages for all of them—he'd been doing that! And damned unpleasant it had been!
Taking a drink of his rye, he once more began his pacing, his mind busy with ways of turning Melissa up sweet. There didn't seem to be anything that he could immediately think of. If he even mentioned Mr. Slade's name, Melissa would instantly be on her guard. All in all, he concluded , any attempt on his part to present Mr. Slade in an agreeable light would be viewed with the deepest suspicion by his too-sharp-by-half niece.
His face suddenly brightened. Perhaps that was his mistake; perhaps he shouldn't mention Mr. Slade's many attributes. Instead, he should warn Melissa away from Mr. Slade. Warn her to be careful around the fellow, let her think that he didn't quite approve of this young man from Natchez. Act as if he found him a bit of a bounder. Praising prospective suitors had never worked, so it was possible the opposite tack would provide results.
Quite pleased with himself, certain he had hit upon the right scheme, Joshua left his study and went in search of Sally. He found his wife of thirty-five years in the small parlor, sitting comfortably on a rosewood sofa covered in luxurious silk damask. She had been leafing through a collection of fashion plates her seamstress had left off earlier. At her husband's entrance, she glanced up and smiled. "Ah, there you are, my dear. I wondered when you would join me."
There was little resemblance between the two young Seymours and their paternal aunt. Sally Manchester, at fifty-four years of age, had no signs of their vibrant coloring, nor had she ever been tall. She was simply a still-pretty, plump little hen of a woman. Zachary would have added sotto voce, "Hen-witted too!" That might have been the case, but not even her worst enemy would have denied her generous nature and sweet personality.
Despite five children, there were still obvious signs of the beauty she had been in her youth. Her eyes were large and well shaped, their color a clear, pale blue, and her faintly lined creamy skin still had the softness of a rose petal. She wore her silver-dusted brown hair parted down the middle with girlish clusters of curls dangling near her ears. A cameo brooch rested amongst the ruffles of lace at her throat, and the deep blue of her silk gown intensified the color of her eyes. Joshua thought she looked adorable.
Sitting down beside her, he grasped one of her soft white hands in his and said, "Sally, I think that this young Slade fellow may be just the man to snare o
ur Lissa's heart." He paused, adding thoughtfully, "Provided we like the look of him! When he comes to call tomorrow, I want you to invite him to visit with us for a few days." He hesitated a moment. Even loving Sally as he did, Josh was not blind to her lack of intellect and he wondered how much of his scheme to tell her. He finally decided to say as little as possible, already regretting having even mentioned Slade's name in connection with Melissa.
Looking at Sally, he admonished, "Um, it would be better if you didn't say anything about Melissa to young Slade. Mustn't let him think we are out to snare a rich husband for our niece. Just do the pretty and ask him to stay."
Sally appeared puzzled. "But don't we want Melissa to marry? And if he's a nice gentleman, won't he do?"
"Well, yes, but he doesn't have to know that!" Josh answered. "It won't do to have him get the wind up and shear off. We want to play these cards close to our chests."
"Oh! Does Mr. Slade like to play cards?" Sally asked doubtfully. "It seems a rather silly way to fix a young woman's interests."
Giving her a pat on the cheek, Josh said, "Don't worry about it, my dear. Just be the wonderful hostess you have always been and make Mr. Slade feel right at home."
And so the next morning, when Dominic came to call at the appointed hour, he was greeted by a genial Josh Manchester. He would have spun and run if he had realized just why Mr. Manchester seemed so pleased to meet him.
Even at their first handshake, Josh was impressed with the tall young man before him, liking the firm clasp and the clear, direct gaze of the smiling gray eyes. Dominic's appearance was everything Josh could have wished for—the freshly laundered cravat beautifully arranged at the neck; the coat of blue superfine fitting the broad shoulders impeccably; the buff pantaloons resting snugly against the long, shapely thighs and the Hessian boots so highly shined that Josh was positive he could see his reflection in them. Dominic's waistcoat also met with his approval, being a light-colored material, unlike the gaudily embroidered ones that appealed so strongly to his youngest son. Obviously, young Mr. Slade was a man of fashion in the manner of the English Beau Brummell, and Josh felt confident that not even Melissa could have faulted young Slade's sartorial elegance.
Nor, he thought, as he ushered Dominic through the wide hallway to his study, would Melissa, or any other young lady for that matter, be immune to Dominic's dark, handsome features. After several moments of polite conversation over cups of freshly brewed coffee, it was apparent that everything he had heard of the gentleman lounging across from him was true. Dominic Slade was, indeed, handsome, charming and wellborn. A sigh of near bliss escaped Josh. Now to convince Melissa.
The first part of Josh's plan unfolded with ease, Dominic accepting Josh's excuses of why it was not convenient for him to look over Folly today.
Dominic smiled. "It doesn't really matter, sir. I am in no hurry. I intend to remain some days in the area and I'm sure that we can decide upon a day later in the week or even the next that will suit both of us."
Josh beamed at him and warmly invited Dominic to join him and the family for a light repast. Dominic smiled and said ruefully, "I feel that I have been here this past hour or so under false pretenses—I am well acquainted with your son Royce. We met in England some years ago and have kept up a halfhearted correspondence since then. I had every intention of seeing him while I was in the area, and your gracious invitation enables me to combine business with pleasure."
If it were possible, Josh's delight with the current state of affairs grew. He was nearly dancing with pleasure a few minutes later as he ushered Dominic down the large main hallway in search of Royce.
Royce was pleased to see a friend from his days in London. For several minutes he and Dominic bantered back and forth, bringing each other up-to-date with various happenings since they had last met and also chiding the other for not having written more frequently, as they had promised faithfully to do before Royce had left London. Seeing the easy friendship between the two men, Josh couldn't have been better pleased. His heart, however, did jump when Royce suddenly asked, "But tell me, what brings you here to Oak Hollow?" Grinning, he added, "Since it obviously wasn't the wish for my company."
"Folly," Dominic replied. "Why else would I tear myself away from the illicit delights to be found in Natchez or New Orleans?"
A frown creased his handsome features as Royce asked, "Folly? Melissa's—"
That was as far as he got before his father interrupted hastily. "What does it matter? Your friend is here now, and I do think that I just heard your mother calling us to join her in the dining room. Do come along, Royce—you and Dominic can talk later."
Royce sent his father a glance, but seeing the pleading expression in his eyes, he shrugged and followed his lead. Putting his hand under Dominic's elbow, he said, "Come, let us find my mother and I shall introduce you to her."
Except for that one nervous moment, the next few hours passed in a manner that Josh could only call fortuitous. Dominic was a charming and affable guest, his graceful compliments to Sally Manchester causing her to blush with pleasure, and the invitation for Dominic to stay with them at Oak Hollow was issued warmly and naturally.
Dominic hesitated to accept, but Royce seconded his mother's request, saying, "Do stay, Dom. There is much that we have to reminisce over, and I'm certain that you will find the accommodations here much more to your liking than those in town."
Shrugging his shoulders in good-natured defeat, Dominic demurred no longer and accepted their offer of hospitality. "I'll ride to Baton Rouge with you to get your belongings," Royce said, "but before we leave, I would like to have a word with my father," he added, shooting a look at Josh.
Alone in his study with his eldest son, Josh warily faced Royce, who was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms loosely folded across his chest, the expression on his handsome face doing nothing to allay Josh's nervousness. For just a second Josh considered bluffing, but then he sighed. Royce was very good at calling a bluff.
Royce Manchester greatly resembled his cousins Melissa and Zachary—it was freely acknowledged that he was the very image of his late grandfather Jeffery Seymour at the same age. Curly, thick tawny hair clung to his well-shaped head, and he possessed the same black, well-defined eyebrows and topaz eyes which Melissa and Zachary had both inherited. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped and just a bit of a rogue. He was also extremely ("uncomfortably," Josh would have piously averred) astute, and little escaped his notice.
Fixing his fidgeting parent with a keen glance, Royce demanded, "What exactly was the meaning of that little scene earlier?"
Josh cleared his throat and muttered, "Dominic believes that we... that I own Folly. He doesn't know about Melissa, and I thought—" He stopped, aware of the frailty of his plan.
He didn't need to explain himself to Royce, though, sudden comprehension dawning on that young man. A sardonic gleam in his golden-brown eyes, Royce said, "So you thought that you would try to sweeten him up before he met my intrepid cousin." Shaking his head, he added, "You'll catch cold at that! Dominic is too wily an opponent for you. The moment he hears of Melissa he'll know what you are about—believe me, he is very knowing when it comes to spotting matchmakers."
Not willing to argue with Royce on that point, Josh asked, "You won't tell him? You'll let him go on believing that Folly belongs to me?"
There was a pause; then Royce said in a measured tone, "I will not tell him... unless he asks me directly." A smile curving his well-shaped mouth, Royce confessed, "Who knows, your little plan might bear fruit, and it will be amusing to watch Dominic spar with Melissa. I'm positive that he has never met a young woman quite like her and I'm equally confident that she has never come up against any man as devilishly charming as Dominic Slade."
Although Royce's reaction was not precisely what Josh would have preferred, he did breathe easier once Royce and Dominic had departed for town. He also didn't waste a moment before setting out for Willowglen—with the first
part of his plan under way, it was time to set the second phase in motion.
Not to his surprise, upon arriving at the main house, he was informed by Frances Osborne that Melissa was busy down at the stables. Whistling, Josh strolled off in that direction. For the moment, the reasons behind the necessity to see Melissa married as soon as possible had faded from his mind, and he was enjoying his attempt at matchmaking.
It took a second for his eyes to adjust from the bright light outside to the shadows of the interior of the stables, but once they did, he instantly spotted Melissa. Her back was to him and she was raking out one of the stalls.
He noted the old, shabby gown and the prim little bun at the back of her head, but assumed that both dress and hairstyle were the result of the chores that presently occupied her. It was only when he called her name and she spun around to face him that he realized his error. In dismay he gawked at her staid appearance, his happy mood vanishing as the fall effect of the ugly spectacles, ill-fitting gown and severe coiffure penetrated. Not even an uncle's fondness could ignore the fact that she looked... well... drab! And it didn't take a great deal of intelligence for Josh to know why she had altered her appearance in this fashion—she was obviously determined to repel any further advances made by the male sex. Uncertain how to meet this turn of events, Josh stared at her in gloomy silence.
Seeing his dejection, but never guessing the reason for it, Melissa almost felt sorry for her uncle. Almost. She had steeled herself to be met with angry exasperation, and Josh's expression of astonishment and discouragement left her torn between amusement and compunction. It was obvious that her changed appearance was having precisely the effect she wanted, but the fact that Josh was not shouting and blustering made her a little uneasy. An angry and irascible Josh she could deal with firmly, but not a Josh who looked defeated; her face softened, a tentative smile curving her mouth.
That smile changed her entire face, making one aware of the pleasing shape of her lips and the gentle curve of her jaw. The change was remarkable, and despite the scraped-back hair and ugly spectacles, an enticing glimpse of her natural loveliness was apparent and, in that instant, Josh wasn't quite so discouraged. Who knows, he told himself, Dominic Slade might enjoy discovering the beauty which lurked beneath the spinsterish exterior. Conscious that he was probably deluding himself, but determined to press on with his plans, Josh sought some way to turn Melissa's latest act of defiance to an advantage. Struck by a sudden inspiration, he finally said, "Ah. I see that you have already been warned."
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