Moonlight Wishes In Time

by Bess McBride

  Mattie had forgotten about the distant cousin thing. She supposed he was right. At the moment, it hardly seemed to matter as she was completely distracted by his close proximity and the feel of his strong hand over hers. She tugged at her hand.

  “Well, you don’t need to keep my hand anymore, do you? People will definitely notice that!” she whispered as she forced herself to meet his eyes.

  “You are right, Miss Crockwell. Your hand under my arm will most certainly be noticed, since you would be considered an eligible young woman and I am closely watched to see if I will pick a bride.” He maintained a grave face, but his lips twitched. “I choose to hold your hand because it pleases me,” he added as he looked down at her.

  “William!” Mrs. Sinclair approached in a swish of lavender silk and gauze with a hint of a frown around her lips. “Miss Crockwell will need her hand to greet our guests, who enter as we speak.” She came to stand before William and glanced toward the door, which was opening to admit the first guests.

  Mattie’s face flamed and she pulled her hand, but William refused to let go, though he held her carefully.

  “In good time, Mother. Miss Crockwell is understandably nervous, and I seek only to reassure her that she is among friends…and family,” he said as he squared off with his mother.

  “Family…yes. I must remember.” Mrs. Sinclair took a place at the head of the line on the left side of Sylvie, who watched the interaction between mother and son with interest. “And what is the connection once again?” Mrs. Sinclair whispered behind her fan.

  “She is from New York City and a cousin through Father’s aunt’s brother by marriage,” William edged out quickly just as an older couple sailed across the foyer and hailed Mrs. Sinclair.

  Mattie felt William give her hand one last squeeze before he released her. Her arm dropped to her side, and it was all she could do, perversely, not to grab him once again and cling as the new arrivals worked their way down the receiving line. She plastered a smile on her face and locked her shaking knees.

  Chapter Nine

  William straightened from bowing toward Lord and Lady Kilgore, and he turned to watch Mattie greet the elderly couple. She had done remarkably well over the past half-hour, maintaining a bright smile on her face and curtseying gracefully, though for the first few moments, he’d had to steady her with an unobtrusive hand when she faltered. He was inordinately pleased with her presentation that evening. None of their guests suspected anything out of the ordinary. Miss Matilda Crockwell was quite the surprise, William thought in bemusement. Quite the surprise…

  “Shall we join our guests?” his mother announced as the first wave of arrivals dwindled. She ran a quick hand to her hair and turned toward her children and Mattie.

  “You were very gracious, Mattie,” his mother said in a quiet voice. “You could not have done better had you been born in this era.”

  Startled at his mother’s unexpected words of praise, William quickly raised his arm as she extended her hand toward him.

  “Yes, she did do rather well, I think,” he murmured with a glance in Mattie’s direction. She blushed and clasped her hands in front of her, clearly discomfited. If he’d had his preference, he would have offered Mattie his arm, so nervous did she appear.

  “Sylvie,” he said in a quiet voice, directing his gaze toward Mattie.

  Sylvie complied happily. She linked arms with Mattie.

  “Come, Mattie, you did so well! I agree with Mother. One would never know you had not been born in this century.” She whispered the last word as they followed William and their mother into the ballroom.

  William escorted his mother down the center of the room and saw her delivered safely into the company of several of the ranking women in the room. Sylvie and Mattie followed and stood by while the orchestra struck up the first notes of a quadrille. William saw Mattie throw several looks his way, but he could not interpret her expression. Her eyes seemed bright, perhaps overly bright, and her cheeks bloomed a rosy hue, which matched her gown. She leaned in as Sylvie whispered something in her ear. Her responding smile of even teeth made him catch his breath for an instant.

  She was absolutely stunning, whether she wore a rose ball gown or a pink fuzzy robe. William did not care to contemplate whether she was the most beautiful woman in the room, for she was certainly the most beautiful woman in the room to him. He could not quite decide whether it was the vivid green and gold flecks of her eyes or the red highlights in her dark hair which attracted him the most. Perhaps it was her odd American turn of phrase or the undecipherable expression on her face when she looked at him.

  Two young dandies approached Sylvie diffidently, both acquaintances from neighboring estates. At any other time, William would have thought nothing of their greeting to Sylvie, but it appeared as though they had the express intent of obtaining an introduction to Mattie.

  “Sylvie…Miss Sinclair,” the tall, slim, dark-haired one said, his youthful face red. “Will you not introduce us? My family has only just arrived, and we were not able to meet your new cousin earlier.”

  Sylvie grinned with the familiarity of a childhood friend.

  “But of course, Reggie. Miss Crockwell, may I present Lord Reginald Hamilton and his brother, the Honourable Samuel Hamilton? We have been friends since childhood. They are our closest neighbors. Their father is Lord Jonathan Hamilton.”

  Both young men, similar in appearance, executed graceful bows. William watched with narrowed eyes as Mattie blushed and curtseyed when Reggie took her hand and kissed it.

  “I am delighted to meet you, Miss Crockwell. I wonder if you might honor me with the next dance,” Reggie said with a flash of white teeth.

  William reacted quickly. Having set himself as Mattie’s protector, he had not thought to share her with anyone, and he was unprepared for the visceral reaction which now made him grit his teeth.

  “Miss Crockwell has been so kind as to give me her hand for the next two waltzes, gentlemen.” William smiled evenly as he moved closer to Mattie. “And I am afraid she has informed us that she does not dance any of the country dances. Is that not correct, Miss Crockwell?”

  Mattie blushed as she looked uncertainly from William to Sylvie and then to the Hamilton boys. She seemed to force a smile.

  “Yes, Mr. Sinclair is right. I actually do not know how to dance very well at all. I-I did not pay attention to my dancing lessons.”

  Sylvie laughed. “Miss Crockwell! How brave you are! You must have had the good fortune to have a governess who did not withhold your dinner until you executed your steps flawlessly.” Sylvie sent William an amused look, but he could not force his lips into a responding smile at the moment.

  “I’m afraid I didn’t have a governess,” Mattie said with a tentative smile.

  “No governess?” Reggie exclaimed. “How fortunate for you!” He grinned. Samuel nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “You must tell us how you managed to avoid such a fate! Would that we could have escaped our lessons!”

  Mattie bit her lip and threw William a quick look, and he wished the Hamilton boys to the devil. Sylvie seemed indisposed to provide any assistance whatsoever, and had resorted to pressing her amused lips together while she favored him with an innocent look.

  “Miss Crockwell tells us she had a nanny until her education was turned over to the care of a tutor. Her father did not feel dancing and drawing were particularly necessary. I think that is not uncommon in America.” He surprised himself with his ease of fabrication, having had no previous need in the past to prevaricate on this level.

  “Well, I certainly had some education,” Mattie returned with a show of force that took William by surprise, as did the sparks in her blue eyes…directed at him. “Just not dancing!” She turned a bright smile on the boys.

  “Quite right,” William coughed behind his hand and nodded.

  “Gentlemen, Miss Crockwell and I are parched.” Sylvie fanned herself with grace. “Would you consider getting us a glass of rata
fia?”

  “At once, Sylvie! It would be our pleasure,” Reggie said with enthusiasm as he and the shy Samuel bowed and hurried away. Sylvie covered the lower half of her face with her fan and chuckled.

  “You have already made an impression, Mattie! I sent them away for a few moments to give you time to collect yourself. You seemed somewhat taken aback by William’s inexpert attempts to explain away your lack of a governess.”

  “I’m so sorry, you guys,” Mattie said with a look of remorse. “I don’t know why I snapped like that. I know you were only trying to help,” she said as she looked at William. “It’s just…I sounded so…uneducated.”

  William was about to proffer his apologies for his inept excuses when Mattie sighed heavily and attempted to cross her arms over her chest. Sylvie intercepted the movement and tapped one of Mattie’s arms with her fan and a whispered comment regarding ladies with arms hanging gracefully at their sides. Mattie turned a startled eye on Sylvie and dropped her arms to clasp her hands in front.

  “That is better, Mattie.”

  William watched in amusement but kept quiet. Mattie had quite enough coaching from Sylvie, who seemed to be emulating their mother more and more every day. As if he conjured her up, Mrs. Sinclair approached.

  “My word,” she said, “Lord Hamilton’s sons can be seen racing each other across the room in the most unbecoming way to procure you a drink. Can I hold you responsible for their exuberance, Sylvie?”

  “Why, yes, Mother, I think you can.” Sylvie smiled.

  William watched the two of them—so much alike—challenge each other affectionately. He noted that Mattie watched as well, clasping and reclasping her hands. She seemed somewhat uncertain around his mother—and with good reason, he thought. Although his mother had been civil and gracious to Mattie given the unusual circumstances of her arrival, she seemed somewhat aloof, which was out of character for her as a rule. She was not normally a haughty woman, yet he feared that was the impression Mattie must be receiving.

  He looked down at Mattie who, omitted from the women’s conversation by his mother, gazed around the room as if committing it to memory, which she no doubt was. He longed to be able to touch her cheek and reassure her that she was not alone, but he could not—not in the ballroom filled with guests. He clasped his hands behind his back to prevent himself from reaching for her.

  “Mrs. Sinclair. Miss Sinclair. Miss Crockwell! William.” Thomas Ringwood bowed in front of them. “What a fine gathering you have here.”

  “Thomas,” Mrs. Sinclair murmured with affection. “Thank you for coming. Your parents accompany you, I trust?” She looked beyond him.

  Thomas bent over her hand, and straightened. “Yes, Mother and Father are with me. They are over there, exchanging greetings with Lord Hamilton, I believe.”

  William watched his mother’s cheeks take on color. When would she agree to consider the man’s repeated offers of marriage? She continued to try to hide the matter from Sylvie and he as if they were small children. Was she truly waiting for him to take a wife before she would consent to wed and leave Ashton House?

  “I must say good evening to them,” his mother said. “It is lovely to see you as always, Thomas. I trust you are staying home for a length of time?”

  William watched Sylvie’s lips tighten. The lovely flush on her face paled when his mother spoke. Mattie looked at him uncertainly, and he gave her a reassuring smile. He supposed he ought to find a few moments alone with her to explain that the women in his family were both involved in affairs of the heart at the moment, however complicated those affairs might be.

  Thomas bowed. “For some time, madam,” he murmured with a sideways glance at Sylvie. His mother moved away in the direction of Lord and Lady Ringwood.

  “Miss Crockwell! How delightful to see you again!” Thomas bowed over her hand, and she offered him her first genuine smile of the evening.

  “Sylvie, you look beautiful,” Thomas murmured as he turned to her, holding her hand a trifle longer than was necessary.

  “Make haste, Thomas, and ask Sylvie to dance. Lord Hamilton’s boys are intent on courting this evening, and are almost upon us.” William took Mattie’s hand in his arm. “I believe I hear a waltz, Mattie. Shall we?” he asked with a grin as he guided her toward the dance floor and past the crestfallen face of Reggie and Samuel Hamilton as they returned, holding two glasses of ratafia.

  William took Mattie in his arms and guided her across the floor. He looked down into her face, but she kept her eyes averted, holding her lip between her teeth. He could feel her hand tremble in his. He was not absolutely certain his own hand did not tremble as well.

  “Are you well, Miss Crockwell?” he asked quietly. “I know this must be extremely taxing for you.” He waited for a response. She seemed so unnaturally subdued, and he allowed, even to himself, some concern about her.

  “I’m fine,” she said with a small smile. She peeped up at him with her dazzling eyes. William thought his heart must certainly have missed a beat. “I’m glad you asked me to dance. At least with you I can take a break from pretending to be a proper young lady.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

  “I am not quite certain that was particularly flattering to me,” he murmured with a lopsided grin. “I would have you know that many young women would consider themselves fortunate to be in my arms.” William tried to pretend he was teasing, but he was certain the effort fell short when Mattie smirked and lifted a pointed eyebrow.

  “Many young women?” she repeated softly as she cast her eyes about the room. “Which young women, William?”

  William blinked and met her eyes as she returned her gaze to his face.

  “It would not be gentlemanly of me to say,” he countered.

  “Oh, I see,” Mattie said. “Well, I’m sure I can find a spot to sit down and rest if you think there are many young women who want to dance with you.” She sighed mournfully. “I wouldn’t want to keep them from you…or you from them.”

  William tightened his jaw for a moment as he tried to think of something clever and profound. He cleared his throat as he played for time.

  “Now, there’s a young woman who looks like she has her eye on you.” Mattie nodded toward a pale young woman with demure brown hair who stood with several other ladies. “Oh, no, wait. It looks like she’s going to dance with Reggie.”

  “Had her eye on me?” William repeated in a baffled tone.

  “You know, William. She was watching you?” Mattie’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at him. “But I’m sorry. I must have been mistaken. I think maybe she was just looking at Reggie after all.”

  William barely noticed Reggie taking the young woman’s hand in preparation for the next dance.

  “I think you must be mocking me, Miss Crockwell.” He looked into her upturned face.

  “Mocking you? Why, I do declare, sir! Why would I do a thing like that, especially to my host?” Mattie’s speech had taken on a distinct accent, somewhat like a drawl.

  “Perhaps because I sounded so arrogant and conceited just a moment ago?” William felt the heat on his face, but he gritted his teeth and willed it away.

  Mattie laughed, a warm, full-bodied sound that caused several befeathered heads to turn in her direction.

  “You did, William. You definitely did,” she said with a grin.

  “I apologize. I think I meant only to impress you, and I did it badly.” He looked down at her, wishing he could touch a lock of her hair to see if it was indeed as silky as it appeared as it gleamed under the bright candlelight of the ballroom. She favored him with a delightful smile, and he felt his lips curl in response.

  The dance ended all too soon to suit William, and he escorted Mattie back to the end of the room, where Sylvie waited with Thomas. Sylvie’s face was severe, and Thomas waited only until William returned before he bowed and walked away.

  “That man!” Sylvie seethed. William was not surprised. His sister and his friend rarely spent much time in each
other’s company of late without arguing over Thomas’s wanderlust and Sylvie’s desire to see him settle down…and preferably ask for her hand in marriage, though she would never admit to the latter.

  “What’s wrong, Sylvie?” Mattie asked with genuine concern.

  “It is of no significance,” Sylvie muttered as she stared at Thomas’s retreating back. Mattie threw William a confused look, and he could only give his head an imperceptible shake to try and reassure her.

  “Let me hazard a guess. Thomas is planning another adventure,” William murmured, probably more for Mattie’s edification than from any surprise on his part.

  Sylvie threw him a sharp look but softened her expression when she saw Mattie’s worried face.

  “Yes,” she sighed. “He wants to embark on another journey…again! He just returned from the continent only days ago.” She watched him as he stopped to visit with a group including their mother, Lord Hamilton and his parents. “I do not think Thomas will ever learn to stay in one place,” she murmured.

  “Is that a problem?” Mattie asked innocently.

  Sylvie returned her attention to her companions.

  “No, certainly not,” Sylvie responded with forced gaiety. “It matters not in the least. Not to me.” She gave Mattie an overly bright smile and tapped her closed fan rapidly in her other hand before turning to look in Thomas’s direction again.

  William felt it was time to intercede on Mattie’s confused behalf.

  “Sylvie and Thomas have had…an understanding since they were young, Miss Crockwell.”

  “And I am not getting any younger,” Sylvie muttered. “Come, Mattie. Let us go find something to drink. I do not know where Reggie and Samuel could have disappeared to with our ratafias.”

  “Well, I think we passed them on our way to the dance floor,” Mattie said just before Sylvie took her by the arm and whirled her off in the direction of the dining room. William saw Mattie throw him a look over her shoulder, but he could not decipher her expression. He was aware of a growing desire to keep her in his sight at all times. Had he seen regret in her downturned face? That they were walking away from him? He fervently hoped so.