Red Jack's Daughter (21 page)

Jessica scolded him lightly. “Tom, just as you and I are comrades, so is Anton. Don’t you see? Really, if you are to begin to resent his presence, where will it end? This isn’t at all like you. You never minded when Ollie was about, nor even Leith. Has Anton offended you in some fashion?”

The fair-haired young man suppressed his agitation and gave Jessica a forced smile. “No, that isn’t it at all. Never
mind, Jess, I was just subject to a distempered fit. It is only that I tend to be jealous of my friends,” he said weakly.

Jessica would have pursued the matter, but Anton entered the room and made further discussion impossible. It was not long before Tom bade them good-bye, saying that he had business to attend to. Although he shook hands warmly with Anton and made the best of bows to Jessica, leaving her with his broadest smile, it was a very disturbed gentleman that the butler saw to the door.

Once Tom had left, Jessica forgot the matter and turned her fullest attention to Anton. She bent a look of warm approval upon him.

He sat and went over the events of the morning in his usual fashion, as though they had been raised in adjacent cradles. Anton described his impressions of a fop they had encountered in the park, and Jessica’s grin widened at his narration. At first, she had been alarmed by his claims to close kinship and by his pressing insistence upon friendship. But no longer, for he made no real demands upon her. For all that he was courtly and attentive, he never frightened her by speculative looks or even hinted that he wished for anything but cousinly affection.

He was a naturally warm person, she decided, watching his expressive face. So warm that one felt one could hold one’s hands up toward him on a chill day and take the numbness from them. At first she had been confused at his constant need to sit close, to touch while speaking, to take her hands in his at every opportunity. But he had explained when he saw her withdraw in surprise that it was only the way of his people. Continentals, he assured her, were themselves surprised at how distant the English were with one another. Then he had solemnly promised to attempt to be more “British,” as he put it, and ruined the whole effort by clasping her hands tightly in his own while he swore to try. He had been genuinely shocked when Jessica had dissolved in merriment as he so vowed.

Now, when she threw back her head and laughed as he mentioned the idiosyncrasies of the gentleman they had encountered, he stopped and said with a look of great awe, “So. Just so your mother would laugh. No, don’t stop. When you laugh like that, I swear I see my Mira before me again.”

“But I am not your Mira,” Jessica said uncomfortably, “and I don’t wish to be.”

“There is nothing so bad in being like her,” Anton protested, moving closer to her and taking up her hand. “You did not know her. I understand that you dislike being compared to her. Oh, I know,” he said sadly, trying to look deep into her averted eyes, “that you do not like to speak of her. But, Cousin, I feel as a man with only one leg when you forbid me to speak. She was that much a part of my life. Of course, Papa and I agreed that you might feel anger toward her. But, Jessica, if you had only known her! She was not the sort of a lady to be able to fight your father for your care. She was too gentle for that.”

“She would not have had to fight for me when she left,” Jessica said soberly, “for my father was off to battle and she was alone with me.”

“But, Jessica,” Anton persisted, “those were dangerous times. Perhaps she was willing to endanger herself, but she could not bring herself to so expose an infant. I cannot say, for the subject of her baby was too tender for any of us to bring up to her. But I know that she would never, never have wished to leave you if she could have helped it.
”

Jessica sat silently for a moment. Anton’s suggestion was one that had not occurred to her, and she turned and asked, “Do you think so, Anton? Truly, do you think that was the case?”

“If you had known her,” he answered soberly, “you would not ask that of me.”

“Of course,” Jessica said rapidly, “it makes no difference now, for they are both gone. But to think that perhaps I had two loving parents, all the while ... It is a comforting thought.”

“That is what I am here for, Cousin,” Anton said softly, “to bring you the comfort of a family. And now, too much serious talking,” he said abruptly, his large dark eyes lit with laughter. “Now I must think of some way to divert you, Cousin, for when you frown like that, you are too British for me. No, I must make you laugh again, then I feel as though I have known you forever. Ah, but if I could see you dance, just once, I would know you were truly my cousin.”

“Then you shall just have to wait till we attend a ball.”
Jessica giggled, thinking that would be a rare sight, Red Jack’s daughter waltzing and capering like a giddy miss.

“But there is no need to wait,” Anton cried, catching her hand and making her rise with him. He placed a hand on her waist, never letting go of her other hand, and in moments he was circling the floor with her, humming the notes to the most popular new waltz from the Continent. After her initial surprise, she relented and they glided past tables, threaded their way through thatches of chairs, and wound about the room, dancing and laughing together.

This close to each other, the family resemblance, which had been superficially belied by their distinctly different coloring, was apparent, at least to one silent spectator. For though Jessica was fair when Anton was dark, they were of an even height and were matched in the delicate fine-boned structure of their faces and in their lithe grace.

Jessica tossed back the flaming hair that had escaped to cover one eye, and her long white neck bent back like a stem supporting the weight of an exotic showy scarlet bloom. Anton pulled her closer and his own dark head threw a shadow upon that snowy neck. How long they would have gone on there was no telling, but the humming and the laughter stopped abruptly when a deep laconic voice drawled, “Bravo!”

They stopped instantly in their tracks and looked to the door, where Alexander, Lord Leith, stood, his broad shoulders leaning negligently against the frame.

“No, don’t stop,” he said casually. “It was quite a performance. Are you practicing for some future party? I do hope I will be invited.”

“We were only dancing,” Jessica said nervously, pulling far away from Anton and looking as flustered as if they were indeed doing something as intimate as Lord Leith’s set face and sarcastic tone implied.

“Jessica,” Anton said earnestly, “is quite as good a dancer as her mother was.”

“Is she?” the tall gentleman mused. “Pity I never got a chance to discover that. She refused me, you see, the only time I asked.”

“I was only trying to prove to her that she had that talent,” Anton said, now seemingly contrite as he gazed
anxiously at the gentleman. “Have I overstepped good manners? Dancing is not considered fast at home, you see.”

“Nor here either,” Lord Leith said softly, “at a dance, that is.”

Jessica cut through Anton’s hurried apologies for any lapse in taste and said, “But we weren’t expecting you, my Lord. That is to say, dash it all, Alex, why have you come?”

“
Very
hospitable,” Lord Leith said.

“I don’t mean that,” Jessica cried in agitation, “and well you know it.”

Her further flurry of explanations was cut off as he raised a white hand. “I only came to discuss travel arrangements with you, Jessica,” he said calmly. “Have you forgotten we leave for Griffin Hall tomorrow morning?”

“
Also
!
” Anton exclaimed. “I myself had forgotten. Can you excuse me, please, Cousin, my Lord? I must see to my valet and my packing.
”

“You needn’t run off,” Lord Leith said dryly.

But Anton, now all haste to go, said, “But there is need. I do not wish for your good aunt to have to wait a moment for me in the morning.”

After kissing Jessica’s hand and bowing to Lord Leith, Anton fairly flew from the room.

“Sorry to have routed your dancing partner,” Lord Leith commented as he seated himself and cast one glance at Jessica’s flushed face.

“There really was nothing to it,” Jessica said defensively as she positioned herself in a chair across from him.

“Of course not,” he said idly, inspecting the tip of his Hessians. “What could there be to it? Two cousins dancing? Do you think you will like it, then, in Vienna?”

Jessica sprang from her seat as though stung. “I am not going to Vienna, my Lord,” she said. “Anton merely showed me how my mother was used to dance. Dancing with someone is not a commitment to anything.”

“Calm yourself,” the gentleman said with a trace of amusement, “I never said it was. Although, from the way you are carrying on now, I do begin to wonder.”

Jessica sat and tried very hard not to show her rage. Why was it, she thought furiously, that he always made her feel
she must justify herself? She paused and then said in a calm voice, “What time are we leaving, then?”

“Very good.” He laughed. “No, don’t fly up into the boughs again, Miss Eastwood. I’m only complimenting your good manners. I had no right to pull your leg. But what was I to think when I entered the room and found you two locked in each other’s arms, dancing to unheard strings. Really, Jessica, I wondered if I had lost my hearing or you your wits.
”

“I must have,” Jessica sighed, glad to hear his normal voice again, “but Anton is so persuasive.”

“Indeed he is,” Lord Leith said carefully, and then went on to discuss the arrangement of the carriages and the number of outriders for the next day’s journey. They decided that Jessica would sit with Lady Grantham in the lead carriage, and that they would allow Sir Selby to ride alongside upon his favorite mount only long enough for him to prove he was still a hearty campaigner before they called him into the carriage. They laughed immoderately at the ruses they would use to achieve this end. Soon Jessica found herself completely in charity with her visitor again.

“I didn’t know,” she interrupted as he began to detail a ruined abbey they must plan to visit in July, “that you intended to stay so long. That is,” she said as she noted his curious look, “I thought you were only going to see us settled in and then dash back to town.
”

“Do you think me such a town beau, then?” he asked. “No. I usually leave London for the whole of summer and often find I must force myself from the land when the leaves begin to turn. In fact,” he went on, stretching out his legs, “I have been occupied with building a house for myself not two leagues from Aunt’s for these past three years. It is almost done with now. We’ll have to ride over one day and spend the night. All of us, that is.” He smiled.

“But building a house?” Jessica asked. “I had thought that you would have had a family seat, you know, just as your aunt does.”

“I did,” he said thoughtfully, “but you see, it is my brother’s now. I had to sell off my own meager property years ago. You remember I told you how shockingly expensive my brother was. Don’t look so sorrowful, my estate was only a small holding, and as I never spent time there, it was no wrench to rid myself of it when the need arose. But now that I’m a gentleman of parts, I’ve occupied myself with providing my heirs a proper sort of home. And the advantage is that I’ve helped to design it all myself. The disadvantage is th
en
when I discover a drafty chimney, I can’t heap abuse upo
n
some ancestor’s head for its deficiencies.”

As he went on to describe his new home and the lake that lay beside it, Jessica watched him closely. It was curious that times such as these, when they were in harmony, wer
e
times when she felt the most wary of him. It was as thoug
h
she could never be completely at ease with him, as she coul
d
be with Tom or her cousin. But why this was, she could not say. When he relaxed, his strong features softened, his gray eyes held no threat, and his curved mouth lost its arrogan
t
contour. As she found herself watching that mouth and wondering at whether its color was actually a pale lavender or rather a soft rose, she realized the trend of her thoughts and jerked her head up so that she looked him in the eye. As that was no better, she fell to examining a fold in her skirts. “And of course, the stables are well away from the hous
e
and Lord, I’m boring you to f
linders, aren’t I?” He chuckled.

“No,” she protested, “not at all. It must be a rewarding project to undertake.
”

“I’ve found it so,” he said. “And do you know the best part?” As she hurriedly shook her head in the negative, he went on, “When I stood beneath its rafters for the firs
t
time, I had the most delightful notion. As the first occupant, I shall have the honor of being the first ghost. Well,” he said with a smile, noting her shocked expression, “in any other great house, I should have to spend eternity should
e
ring aside all manner of previous occupants if I want to get up to a good night’s haunting. But at Bright Waters, I will have seniority. Can you just imagine some future Lord Leit
h
quaking in his bed as I rattle down the long hall I designed?
Or s
ome nanny in a far-off generation ordering my great
-
grandchildren to eat their porridge or old Alex will get them? Or guests being shown the head of the dining table with a quaking finger and being told, ‘Here is where old Alex fell; stone cold dead after his last drink of port. On this very spot. And you can still hear him roaming the house on windy nights, looking for another glass.’ ”

While he laughed, Jessica could not. She suddenly felt great pity for the beleaguered boy who had to sell off his birthright and toil for years in a far-off land until he could build another home. She sorrowed for his loneliness, envisioning him standing in his unfinished house able to think only of his demise.

So it was in the spirit of trying to cheer him, and not, she afterward told herself again and again, to dispel the discomforting mood of intimacy that had overtaken her, that she said quickly, “But surely you will have someone with you,” she blurted. “You are not going to leave Miss LaPoire all alone when you take up residence there?”