Edith patted Joanna’s arm. “I am sure you will reach a resolution.”
Joanna scowled after Mariah. “I already have. We shall leave them as they are.”
Mariah happened to meet Joanna’s gaze and though she had been laughing, when their eyes met, Mariah’s smile fell from her face and she returned Joanna’s annoyed expression. Joanna sighed as she thought on the afternoon ahead. With none but Mariah about, the day would be dreary indeed.
Beyond Mariah, Joanna saw Hugh Colborne look her way, bid good afternoon to the man he was speaking to, then saunter toward her. When he came nearer, he tipped his hat, before settling it low over his eyes. “Have you forgiven me for teasing you, Miss Leighton?”
Joanna smirked at him. “Not quite.” An idea struck her. “But I may have a way for you to make it up to me.”
Mr. Colborne’s eyes widened dramatically. “Do tell.”
“If you and Edith will join us for afternoon tea, I am certain I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”
He smiled. “You are too kind.” He extended his arm toward her. “May I see you home, then?”
Pleased at the prospect of an afternoon with company, Joanna smiled. “You may, but first I must find Mariah.” She began to search the crowd, but found her sister approaching them rapidly. “Ah, Mariah. There you are. Edith and Mr. Colborne have agreed to join us for tea.”
“How wonderful!” Mariah said. “Perhaps Mr. Colborne can entertain us with stories from his latest Season in London?”
“I would be happy to.”
Mariah took his outstretched arm and carried the conversation with Mr. Colborne during their walk home. Edith walked along silently beside Joanna. Joanna pondered the wretched day, from her argument with Mariah to the humiliating spectacle at church, and hoped it would improve. Thoughts of the stranger who’d occupied her seat in their pew flew back into her mind. Her aunt was likely correct in saying he had no intention of ill will. Still, it perplexed her that he had not even seemed to notice her predicament. What sort of gentleman did that? She did not know, but she did know he was the sort of man she cared little to know of.
As Joanna dressed on Monday morning, she realized she had failed to pass the letter from their father on to Mariah. For a moment, she thought to keep it from her, as she had not completely forgiven Mariah for the church incident as of yet. However, she knew she would only cause more problems if she did not share the epistle. She took the letter from her table and went down to breakfast, pleased to see Mariah already at the table. “Good morning, Mariah.”
“Morning.”
Joanna walked by Mariah on her way to her seat, slipping the letter onto the table as she passed.
Mariah’s brow crinkled as she turned it over to read the address. Her eyes lit up as she recognized the print, making Joanna smile.
“I’m sorry I forgot to give it to you yesterday. With the company we had, I suppose it slipped my mind,” Joanna explained.
“It is no matter,” Mariah mumbled as she read the letter. When she had read it twice, she folded it, placing it next to her plate. “Do you think he will actually come this time?”
Joanna sighed. “I do not know. I certainly hope so.”
Mariah frowned. “I do, too. I miss him.” She looked around the dining room. “Do you think he might ever return for good? Or will we eventually be forced to move to London?”
“Do you dislike London so much?”
“I enjoy a visit, certainly, and I very much look forward to the Season next year. But we have lived in Roselund Heights most of my life. It is our home.”
Joanna nodded. “I feel the same way. I would be happy to stay in Roselund forever, but I do not know that Father will ever return permanently.”
To Joanna’s relief, she and Mariah managed to be civil to one another for the next several days. Less to her relief, and more to her frustration, was that as much as Joanna told herself she did not wish to know anything more of the stranger from church, he would not leave her mind. Each time she ventured out, she found herself searching those who passed, wondering if she might see him again. More than once, she chastised herself for this behavior, reminding herself of her dislike for him.
Thursday afternoon found Joanna and Mariah with little to do, as the ball that evening held the town in preparations. They were both in the drawing room, where Mariah sat at the table, constructing a new bonnet, while Joanna read near the window. At the conclusion of a chapter, she gazed around the room, relishing the pleasant atmosphere, which now rarely existed between herself and her sister since their fight over the curtains. The solution on the subject had come to her during the night, and she looked forward to sharing it with her sister.
“I have considered your request to acquire new curtains, Mariah.”
She looked up, disbelief written in her eyes. “You have?”
“Of course. I have taken time to ponder on the options as of late.”
Mariah smiled, which was a good sign.
Joanna continued. “I have decided to allow you to change the curtains to whatever you desire.”
Mariah’s face lit up. “Thank you, Joanna! I assure you I will pick something lovely.”
“You may pick whatever you like. It is your room, after all.”
Mariah’s expression darkened. “Pardon me?”
“I have decided that, as a compromise, you may change the curtains in your room. That way you may have whatever curtains you desire and we will not have to alter the entire house to accommodate your tastes.”
“This is your idea of a compromise? I do not need your permission to change anything in my own room.”
“Of course you do, but that is not the subject here. Are you not pleased?”
“I have been selecting curtains in my room for years.”
Joanna thought on that for a moment. “Well, I suppose you could select new curtains for the kitchen, as well.”
“Eugh!” Mariah cried, throwing her bonnet on the table before she stormed from the room.
Joanna looked after her in confusion. What on earth did I do wrong? She found the compromise perfectly reasonable, though obviously Mariah had not. She shook her head, then walked over to the table and picked up the bonnet. The lace Mariah had sewn on did nothing to aid its appearance. She sat down and began to undo her sister’s stitches, removing the offending material.
Mariah had refused to speak to Joanna for the remainder of the afternoon, which was just as well, as Joanna had nothing pleasant to say to her, either. The day passed fine, however, as they each spent a good deal of time in their own rooms, preparing for the evening to come. It was the drive to the ball which was most difficult to endure. The silence was painful and at last, Joanna could bear it no longer.
In an effort to ease the tension, she chose the most neutral of topics. “This is a fine evening.”
Mariah did not even turn away from the window or mutter a response.
“Do you hope to dance with anyone in particular?” Joanna asked.
Mariah was kind enough to cast her a disparaging glance.
Joanna sighed and shook her head. She had made an effort, which was more than Mariah could say. The silence did not feel so suffocating now.
At long last, they entered the ball-room, sharing greetings with the friends and acquaintances they passed. Joanna spotted Edith across the room and led Mariah in that direction.
“Have you filled your dance card, Edith?” Joanna asked.
Edith chuckled. “Not quite. Rose, however, is making a fine start on hers.” She motioned toward their friend, who was already entertaining a small group of gentlemen.
Joanna watched her with mild amusement, while at the same time missing the fourth member of their set of friends. Fanny Brightmore, eldest daughter of Tobyn Brightmore, Earl of Danesbury, was away visiting family in the country, and recovering from what her mother called “an embarrassment to the entire family.” Joanna sighed inwardly, feeling sorry for her friend and the ill
fortune which had befallen her.
“Dance with me, Joanna.” A quiet voice spoke near her ear.
Joanna turned, her eyebrow raised. Mr. Colborne’s crooked smile greeted her, his hand extended. Joanna laughed. “I would be delighted.”
Before they stepped away, he looked at Mariah. “Will you, Miss Mariah, dance the next with me?”
Mariah’s pathetic mood melted away like frost before a fire. “Thank you, sir.”
Joanna took her place in the set across from Mr. Colborne, keen to be dancing with him again. He had been well trained in the art of dance and was always an attentive partner. As the dance progressed, the unpleasant experiences of the past few days faded into distant memories.
“How long has it been since we’ve danced together, Joanna?”
She shook her head. “I can hardly say. It must have been before you left for London.”
“How shameful! That was months ago.”
“Yes, it has been a very long time.”
“I hope my absence was not too hard on you.”
Though Joanna’s tone was solemn, she could not repress her smile. “We bore it well, Mr. Colborne.”
As they came together, he shook his head. “I do wish you would call me Hugh.”
Joanna laughed softly. “I’ve not called you that in years. Why should I begin again?”
He shrugged and the corner of his mouth lifted. “I would feel much better about calling you Joanna.”
“And what would Edith say about that?”
“I am certain Edith would not care what I call you. My mother, on the other hand…”
Joanna laughed openly now. “Yes, your mother would scold you indeed.”
He passed Joanna under his arm and sighed loudly. “Formalities are exhausting. I’ve known you since we were children and yet there must be formalities.”
“It is the cost of living in a civilized society, I suppose.”
The steps of the dance turned Joanna away from the set and toward the room of onlookers. It was then that she saw him. Though she had not seen him in four days, she was certain it was the same man who had stolen her seat at church. Before she could do more than catch a glance of him, she had to turn back to Mr. Colborne. She was anxious for another turn, another glimpse, another moment to formulate a further opinion of him.
When the turn came again, she found him in the same spot, standing against the wall. His face was as stern as she recalled. He seemed to glare at the guests for enjoying such frivolities as dancing. So distracted was she that she completed the turn too late and struck the woman beside her.
“I’m terribly sorry!” Joanna exclaimed. She quickly found her place again, but felt redness rising in her cheeks, and cursed herself for being so distracted by a stranger.
As they came together again, Mr. Colborne looked at her with mixed amusement and concern. “Are you all right, Joanna?”
“Yes, I am fine.” She smiled to assure him, though her mind raced.
It was an effort to keep her thoughts on the dance and Mr. Colborne, and away from the other man. When the dance ended, it was not long before she was asked for the next dance and whisked back into the set. Though she did attempt to, she could not stop herself from stealing glances at the stranger throughout the dance. His expression did not vary and she found herself simultaneously intrigued and vexed by him. Joanna was glad when the dance ended at last and she retreated into the crowd to avoid being asked again.
She found Edith and Rose standing not far off.
“I am surprised you are not dancing, Rose. You are rarely without a partner,” she said to her friend.
Rose’s smile stretched to her amber eyes, an expression she rarely seemed to be without. “I cannot be faulted for a lack of a partner. Heaven knows I am a willing dancer.”
Joanna cast her a teasing smile. “And a willing flirt, which likely explains your near constant company.”
“Do not be jealous, Joanna. I will give you a lesson, if you like.”
As the friends laughed, a slender man approached their threesome. “Don’t you all look lovely this evening.” His smooth voice well suited his calculated gaze and provocative smile. He bowed elegantly as they turned their attention toward him.
Joanna’s curtsy was shallow and her eyes never left his face. “Mr. Farnsby.”
“Miss Langstine, is it?”
She glared at him. “Am I so beneath your notice that you cannot even recall my name?”
He arched his brow at her, not saying a word.
“It is Miss Leighton.”
“Ah, yes. That it is.” His eyes traveled down her figure as if estimating whether or not she was worth his notice. Joanna did not bother to hide her look of disdain.
“What may we do for you, Mr. Farnsby?” Edith asked, drawing his eyes away from Joanna at last.
“Where is Lady Fanny this evening? I expected her to be in attendance. You are all friends with her, are you not?”
“We are. She has gone to visit her aunt for a time. Her cousin was in need of company,” Rose explained, stretching the truth if only a little.
“How sweet of her. When do you anticipate her return?”
“She ought to return in a few weeks,” Edith said.
A sly look crossed Mr. Farnsby’s face. “I am glad to hear it.”
Joanna stepped forward. “I would not count on her being further interested in your company upon her return.”
“Is that so? Why ever not?” He turned toward her, his expression inviting, as he clearly attempted to win her over.
“Suffice it to say, she learned of your intimacy with Miss Powell and no longer feels kindly enough to grace you with her company.”
She expected him to turn angry, but his expression was lazy and uncaring. “She heard about that, did she?” he looked around the room absently. “Hmm. No matter. I am certain I can ease the pain of that before long. Good night to you.” He walked away without bothering to bow.
“I cannot tolerate that man,” Joanna grumbled.
“There is no point in letting a man such as him upset you. He is not worth the effort,” Edith said.
“I would not care so much what he does if he had not hurt poor Fanny.”
Rose tilted her head. “I always thought him rather charming.”
Joanna and Edith looked at her with wide eyes.
“I do not now!” Rose exclaimed softly before looking after him. “Not as much, at least.”
Joanna shook her head. “Do you think the time away will aid Fanny much?”
“If nothing else, it will give her the time she needs to overcome her embarrassment,” Edith answered.
As Joanna nodded in agreement, wishing the best for their dear friend, her gaze crossed to that stern gentleman once again.
“Do either of you happen to know that man there?” Joanna asked, pointing him out as discreetly as possible.
Rose shook her head, but Edith said, “My brother introduced him to me earlier this evening. Why do you ask?”
“He is the man to whom I owe my embarrassment at church.”
Edith furrowed her brow. “Are you still thinking of that?”
“Only every now and again, and then perhaps a few times in between.” Joanna smirked, even though she could feel her cheeks coloring.
Rose laughed. “Can it be that you have finally found a man who can claim your interest?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have no designs on him. For heaven’s sake, it is his fault I was chastised by your father.” She paused, searching for the right words. “Although, I do find myself inexplicably curious about him.”
“So there will be no convincing you to marriage tonight?”
Joanna laughed. “Not at all. As you well know, I am perfectly content to be on my own. And I have found great satisfaction in assisting my uncle with his patients.”
“But there is so much more to life than mere satisfaction, Joanna,” Rose persisted.
Joanna grinned. “Perhaps I ha
ve just not met the right patient. The perfect soul for me to tend to for all the rest of my days.”
Edith shook her head. “I admire your kindness, Joanna, but your plan is too impractical.”
Joanna looped her arm through Edith’s. She had made many attempts to have Joanna see the downfalls of the path she had chosen, and had been shamefully unsuccessful. “Do not worry, dear friend. I will be as happy as one can hope to be. I am sure of it.”
“Perhaps. However, for the time being, I will see to your introduction.”
Edith slipped her arm from Joanna’s and slid away before she could protest.
Rose chuckled. “If you are not interested in him for romantic reasons, why are you interested?”
Joanna thought for a moment. “I honestly cannot say. Perhaps it is that I must know why he is so displeased with our party.”
Rose laughed. “He does seem rather annoyed, does he not?”
Edith rejoined them, looking satisfied. “Hugh has agreed to make the introduction.” She caught Joanna’s wary expression. “Do not worry, Joanna. He assured me he would be discreet.”
A few moments later, Joanna saw Mr. Colborne approach the stranger and motion toward her and her friends. She shifted her gaze, pretending to watch the dancing. Her heart, however, could not be distracted and beat mercilessly, despite her insistence there was no cause to be nervous. When Mr. Colborne stopped before them, Joanna was relieved to finally have a reason to look at the man who came with him.
He was a young man, likely in his late twenties, yet his overall disposition left him seeming older. His dark brows creased together, as if set in a perpetual grimace. His mouth sat in a firm line with no hint of a smile at all. He stood tall and rigid, as if highly uncomfortable. His eyes were evasive, his gaze cool.
“Mr. Aldridge, you have already met my sister, but may I also introduce some of our friends? This is Miss Rose Beeton,” Mr. Colborne said.
Rose curtsied and Mr. Aldridge offered a stiff bow.
“And this is Miss Joanna Leighton.”
As Mr. Aldridge turned to her and their eyes met for the briefest moment. She saw the severity in his gaze lessen before she lowered into a curtsy. When Joanna rose, she found that he still looked at her and she was suddenly overwhelmed. Without the coldness there, his eyes drew her in like the ocean’s depths. There was a story behind them. A history. Secrets. She wanted to dive into those deep blue eyes and know the tales behind them. She blinked hard, clearing her mind of the distraction that this man’s eyes held over her.
Healing Hearts (Roselund Heights Book 1) Page 2