Chapter Five
“There! How elegant we both look!” Juliet exclaimed, pinning one last curl in place on her sister’s head and angling her towards the looking glass so that both young ladies might be able to admire their reflections. Catching sight of herself next to Maddy, Juliet’s smile faded into a grimace. “Well, how elegant one of us looks!” She shrugged one shoulder in a show of indifference. She was used to playing the ugly duckling to her sister’s elegant swan, but she could not own that, even after all these years, it still rankled.
This evening is not about me! she reminded herself. Other than to show Edmund precisely what constitutes a viable romantic hero worthy of winning Maddy’s hand! Her smile crept back onto her lips.
“What are you thinking about?” Maddy asked, noticing the change in her sister’s expression before Juliet was quick enough to conceal it. “What makes you smile, so? If you know a secret you ought to share it, for is that not what sisters do?”
“No secret, sister dear!” Juliet said, kissing Maddy on her cheek and hurrying away from her. “Merely reflecting on how beautiful you will look this evening and picturing the line of gentlemen who will doubtless be eager to dance with you!”
Maddy’s cheeks coloured and she brushed off her sister’s easy praise.
“Oh, do not be ridiculous! I have no doubt we shall all find people to dance with.”
“Not me!” Juliet said. “I am so used to playing the part of a gentleman when we practice at home that I invariably forget I am not meant to lead.” Her eyes twinkled. “Last time I danced with Edmund I kept stepping on his toes and colliding with him when we both aimed for the same spot at once. He has not quite let me forget it yet!”
“I do not recall Edmund objecting,” Maddy said, peering carefully at her reflection in the mirror. “If I remember correctly, he claimed it would be better if he was the only one to dance with you all evening in order to save his fellow gentlemen bruises.”
“Precisely my point!” Juliet said, with a haughty grunt as she sought to make a final adjustment to her disobedient curls. “He thinks I am a disaster and dares not let me loose on the population at large.”
“Or....” Maddy turned in her seat to regard her sister with an arch, unreadable expression on her pretty face. “He wishes to keep you entirely to himself.” She tilted her head to one side, pondering a question. Juliet felt her stomach drop in anticipation even before Maddy formed the words. “I wonder, Juliet, if our Mr Gale is not a little in love with you.”
“In love?” Juliet laughed, taking the suggestion for a joke, although she could not help but acknowledge, somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind, that she had indulged the same thoughts herself on more than one occasion.
“Nonsense! Edmund and I are friends, that is all. He is like a brother to us all!”
“He is like a brother to us,” Maddy conceded. “But that is only the result of our familiarity and his forever running over here to play when we were children.” She fixed Juliet with a steady glare. “We are none of us children any more, and I wonder...”
“I wonder that you have time to sit and ponder my future when your own is well within your grasp!” Juliet said, taking one last glance in the mirror to pronounce herself done, and snatching up two woollen shawls. She draped one carefully over her sister’s shoulders, threw the other haphazardly around her own neck, and turned towards the door. “Just think, Maddy, tonight may be the very evening when you meet the man you marry!”
Maddy said nothing but smiled as if she was only too aware of Juliet’s transparent attempt to shift their conversation away from herself and Edmund. Neither one wished to argue, though, for a ball was a great point of excitement, particularly one taking place in nearby Castleford and at Christmas. Both details would work together to ensure a rather wider variety in attendance than could usually be expected at local assemblies.
“Did you have an answer from Colonel Black?” Maddy asked, straightening her shawl, and snatching up her reticule before following her sister into the corridor.
“Colonel Black?” Juliet’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched, and she strove to control it. It would not do to betray herself so soon. Madeline must make the decision herself. She must fall in love with Colonel Blake entirely by chance. Or, at least, she must think it is by chance... “Oh, you mean my question of whether the regiment would be attending the ball?” She kept her words light and airy, betraying nothing beyond vague consideration. “He said that a few of his colleagues should be there. And he will, of course.” She counted their descent down a step or two before turning her sister’s question back to her. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Madeline said, with an easy smile. “Merely that you seemed so very determined to find out. I trust his answer was the one you hoped for?”
Juliet nodded, determined to leave the matter at that, for to display too much interest in Colonel Black’s presence would surely be to tip her hand. Madeline was not suspicious by nature, but she was also not an idiot, and Juliet was not about to admit her plan before she had had a chance to put it into action.
“Here you two are!” Louisa exclaimed as the two sisters reached the bottom of the staircase. “We have been waiting for an absolute age. Mama! Papa! Juliet and Maddy are here at last, may we go now?”
“Yes, yes!” Mr Turner’s gruff voice came from the parlour, and Juliet turned to find him before Louisa interposed herself in front of her, insisting that they went only one direction: towards the door and thence the carriage that would take them the short distance to Castleford. Juliet would not be afforded another moment to speak to her elder sister, with her younger staring mutinously at her for the duration of their journey, as if she dared Juliet to do a single thing that would delay them any longer from arriving in good time to the assembly.
Well, Juliet thought, as she peered out into the darkness as their carriage lurched into motion. I can do nothing more until we arrive, anyhow. It is out of my hands until I can contrive for Colonel Black to dance with Madeline. I am sure that will not be so very difficult, for she is certain to be the most beautiful young lady present. If only I can insist on her choosing him and not Edmund’s candidate, I am sure all will be well.
Even so, she was so nervous she found herself clenching her hands into fists so tightly that her fingernails poked sharp half-moons into the palms of her hands, causing Bess who reached across the interior of the carriage to lay a questioning hand on her arm.
“Are you quite well, Juliet?” she asked, in her quiet, gentle way. “You seem a little pale.”
“Oh, do not fret, Bessy,” Juliet said, with a quick smile that she hoped allayed her sister’s concerns. “I am merely excited to arrive.”
“Aren’t we all!” Louisa exclaimed, with a dramatic sigh that caused the entire carriage to echo with laughter, and everyone arrived at the assembly room in a state of merriment.
ROBERT HODGE HAD BEEN in any number of elegant buildings since his return to England. Why was it, then, that in this particular room he was so uncomfortable? Standing beside his father, who beamed and nodded to all and sundry who passed, making acquaintances as easily as some men might breathe, Robert stooped, feeling every inch of his height, and wished that the music and dancing would hurry up and start.
Some occupation, please, he thought, willing the interminable milling-around-time to hasten to its conclusion. With dancing, he knew what to do, although he feared he was a trifle out of practice after having been so long abroad.
He watched acquaintances greeting one another with varying degrees of affection until he chanced to catch himself staring at a young lady who turned and met his gaze. Clearing his throat, he shifted his gaze immediately to the evergreen boughs that decorated the smooth white walls of the assembly room and counted silently to three. When he looked back, the young lady had moved on, arm in arm with a young gentleman and turning to eagerly greet some friends.
“What a grand turnout, Robert!” Mr Hodge
remarked, elbowing his son in the side and dragging Robert’s attention back to their small, anonymous corner. “That Mr Smith was not merely pontificating when he claimed that Castleford would be a popular destination! And a ball is just the thing to open the town bring people from all over to visit!”
Robert smiled, more to placate his father than because he agreed with his sentiment. He thought it rather likely that the majority of attendees were local people come to mingle and investigate the newest town on their border, but perhaps he was mistaken. He and his father had travelled quite some distance to be there, after all, and were now making their first tentative steps into building a new life in this very town. They could not be the only new arrivals, surely?
He turned towards the door, wondering if he could judge by the steady flow of arrivals how soon the dancing was likely to begin, and how soon he and his father could cease from haunting their corner waiting to be spoken to. His eyes lit on a group of young ladies - sisters, he supposed - and he idly wondered what it was about this particular group that struck him as oddly familiar. He knew nobody here, and he certainly could think of no group of four sisters with whom he was acquainted in all of England, never mind this particular corner of it.
“Good evening!” An older gentleman said, addressing first Mr Hodge and then Robert. There was something about the man’s determined chin Robert could see reflected in at least one of the pretty young faces that followed him and he realised with a start that this must be the happy family’s patriarch. He bowed, accepting the hand that was offered to him.
“Turner,” the man said, with a smile. “My name is Samuel Turner and this is my wife, Deborah.”
“Ah, my wife was also a Deborah!” Mr Hodge remarked, with a wistful smile. “Alas, she is no longer with us. I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr Turner. And are these fine young ladies also yours?”
“Yes, yes,” Mr Turner said, with a vague wave towards the group. “My daughters. Miss Madeline, Miss Juliet, Miss Louisa and Miss Elizabeth.”
All four young ladies dropped in a ripple of curtseys so rapid that Robert was left to wonder which name belonged to which young lady and he blinked, trying unsuccessfully to recall where he had seen them before. He did not know anybody by the name of Turner, did he?
“Are you local?” Mr Turner continued, addressing his words to Robert this time, as he reached up a hand to stroke a greying moustache he was evidently rather proud of. “We reside at Aston House, in Clifton, but you know...” He leaned forward, assuming an air of confidentiality. “It does one good to visit the surrounding towns and see how one’s neighbours seek to establish themselves. Especially in a town as new as this! I am wary of standing too close to the wall lest the pain is not quite dry yet!” He guffawed, and Robert took a hasty step away from the wall, momentarily fearing that very fate had befallen him in his eagerness to sink into the background.
“We are newly arrived,” Mr Hodge said when Robert did not reply straight away. He shot his son a cursory look out of the corner of one eye. “My son here is seeking to invest - that is, we are new to this part of the country and came to tour Castleford just the other day.”
“Then that is where we saw you!”
One young lady spoke, apparently without meaning to, for she clamped her mouth shut almost immediately and coloured, her cheeks flushing as if she regretted voicing her thought.
Yes! There, Robert could place them at last. This was the group of ladies he had seen on his and his father’s tour of Castleford but a day or two previously. Their paths had crossed a second time, too, he recalled, in the tea room. They had been with a gentleman, whose absence Robert now sought to remedy, glancing around in case the fellow had arrived without his notice. They had only exchanged a word or two, he and this Mr Gale, but it would be pleasant to greet a friend in this crowd of strangers.
“And what did you think of Castleford, Miss Turner?” Mr Hodge continued, as Robert abandoned his search, returning his attention to the pretty young lady who had spoken so naturally. He was quite curious to know her thoughts of the town and gave her his full and undivided attention, a little taken aback when it was not she, but her sister, who offered an opinion.
“We liked it well enough,” this young lady said, tossing her dark head and taking her sister by the hand. “Maddy dear, look, there is Sallie Merriweather! We simply must say hello to her before the dancing begins. Excuse me, gentlemen.” She had half-dragged her sister away before Robert had time to bid them farewell.
“You must forgive Juliet,” Mr Turner said, smiling indulgently after his daughters. “She is often too swept up in her excitement to remember her manners. Is it business, then, Mr Hodge, that brings you to Castleford?”
This question was addressed to Robert and he found himself not at all troubled to answer it. He liked this Mr Turner, whose bright eyes indicated a keen intelligence and whose gaze displayed genuine interest in knowing Robert and his father for themselves, not merely to claim an acquaintance in future. He smiled and told him a little of what he had left behind him in Antigua and how he and his father had found their way north from London.
“Indeed, I do not blame you for departing the city!” Mr Turner chuckled. “I am not greatly fond of it myself, although I would imagine for a young man such as yourself there are a great many attractions to be found there!”
Robert found his gaze straying back to the two sisters, his brain teasing him to recall their names. Juliet and...what had she said...Maddy? Madeline. The pretty sister must be Madeline. He forced his eyes back to her father and smiled.
“I am not so fond of fashionable society, Mr Turner. I much prefer the countryside to London. I confess, after so many years in the colonies I find myself a little out of my depth in great crowds.”
“Ah, I shall offer you an easy solution to that, Mr Hodge. You must simply avoid great crowds. It is not difficult to do so, in small towns such as this. Even at Christmas and even at the birth of a new town, one can hardly muster a great crowd. Tell me, are you a card player? I am sorely lacking a decent opponent, so if you or your father play, it will certainly make me rather more likely to count you amongst my friends...”
Chapter Six
The parlour at Northridge was an oasis of calm with Edmund’s mother at the centre.
“Sit down, Edmund,” Mrs Gale said, calmly brushing an invisible speck of lint from her dress. The pretty blush pink made the already youthful Mrs Gale seem younger still, certainly too young to be mother to the fully grown young man who stalked to the doorway once more, pulling it open and scowling into the darkened corridor at the friends who had not yet arrived to join them.
“Your friends will be ready before long, I am sure.”
“They ought to have been ready an hour ago!” Edmund growled, stalking back to the hearth and glaring at the clock as if it was that that had betrayed him by running too fast.
“Ah, now you see what it has been like for the last twenty-something years of my life, dear.” She reached for him and he reluctantly allowed her to tug him into a seat next to her. “It is a wonder to me that you are ready to time, so perhaps you ought to go a little easier on your friends.”
“We shall be late!” Edmund complained.
“And when has that ever been of any concern to you?” His mother watched him carefully, through the same blue-green eyes that stared out of his own face whenever he paused to look in a mirror. Edmund Gale resembled his father almost completely except for those eyes. Right now, his mother’s were bright as they fixed on her only son with a concern that rapidly gave way to curiosity.
“What is different about tonight, dear? Why are you so desperate to arrive on time on this out of any other evening? Could it be there is a particular young lady you wish to see?”
Unbidden, an image of Juliet strolled through his cluttered mind and he smiled, realising too late what his mother would read into the expression and striving to rearrange it into the same laconic grin she was used to.<
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“No-one you need enquire after, Mama. I am a little eager to introduce my friends to the Turners, that is all.”
“Oh?” Mrs Gale’s voice dripped with disapproval. She was no great champion of their near neighbours, although she had long since abandoned any efforts to part Edmund from his friends.
Edmund’s lips tightened, and he began summoning the arguments he had lobbied against his mother in a regular rotation of late, demanding that she let go of her aristocratic ideals and accept the Turner young ladies for what they were: daughters of a gentleman, and as such, no different from Mrs Gale herself. My own grandfather was in trade, Mother, he rehearsed. It is merely good fortune that you married a gentleman. Why begrudge another young lady for doing the same?
Her frustrations were groundless, in any case, for she viewed each and every Turner girl as innately grasping, seeking friendship with Edmund only so far as it might elevate their social status. If that was true, he mused, with a grim smile. Juliet would have accepted my proposal when I offered it, instead of turning the whole thing into an endless challenge where either she or I must be victor never both of us. He swallowed. He had not told Mama of that hazy summer afternoon, two years ago, when he had proposed marriage to his oldest and dearest friend - and been roundly refused in that infuriatingly direct manner she had never quite grown out of. He had turned the whole thing to a joke, and perhaps it was, although it had provided him quite an adequate enough excuse to exchange the limited society of Clifton for London, which had led to him having his heart broken twice in quick succession. Little wonder, then, that he took a greater interest in the romantic entanglements of his friends. He cared to prove Juliet wrong - for if she could be found wrong about Madeline, what other previous decisions might she also be forced to revisit?
A Winter Wager Page 4