Someone to Hold
Page 55
Lady Overfield must have had the same thought. “It is just like you, Camille,” she said, “to take on something so very challenging and to do it well. I applaud you, though you may find the rest of the family more disapproving. You were learning to waltz, Mr. Cunningham?”
“It was one dance Anna had to learn when she went to London,” he said. “I had a full account of the lessons in her letters, including your part in them, ma’am. I believe you demonstrated the dance with your brother.”
“Oh goodness, yes,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Anna’s dancing master was ridiculously pompous. He would still be teaching her how to position herself correctly if Alex and I had not stepped in to demonstrate how it is actually done—with some enjoyment as well as a little bit of grace.”
“And if Avery had not arrived to insist I waltz with him instead of with Mr. Robertson, the dancing instructor,” Anna said. “I had not even heard of the waltz before I went to London.”
“I had never heard of it until you went to London either,” Joel said. “But Miss Westcott was teaching the children a country dance this afternoon, and after they had been dismissed I begged her to teach me the waltz. I account both her instruction and my efforts an unqualified success. I did not tread on her toes even once.”
They all laughed except Camille, who was impersonating a straight-backed, tight-lipped marble statue. Good God, if they had not been interrupted, he would have ended up kissing her—and she him if he was not very much mistaken. The air between them and all about them had been fairly crackling. Had it been noticeable? But how could it not have been?
“Avery has reserved a private dining room for the family at the Royal York Hotel,” Anna said, addressing Camille. “Grandmama and Aunt Matilda will not be here until next week, but Aunt Mildred and Uncle Thomas are probably on the way and may even arrive tomorrow. Abigail has agreed to dine with us tomorrow evening. Mrs. Kingsley unfortunately has another engagement. Will you come too, Camille? We would like it above all things.”
Camille’s demeanor did not change, but she hesitated for only a moment. “Thank you,” she said. “I will.”
“Oh splendid.” Anna looked again as though she might rush forward to take her half sister’s hands in her own, but she did not do so. Joel wondered if they would ever be comfortable with each other. Not that Camille was even trying, though she had accepted the invitation. Anna turned toward him. “And will you come too, Joel? Abigail told us that you are to paint her portrait and Camille’s and have already been to her grandmother’s house several times to make some preliminary sketches. I want to hear all your news. It must be almost two weeks since I last heard from you.”
It was to be a family dinner, Joel thought. He would be an outsider. He glanced at Camille, who was looking steadily back at him, her expression giving him no indication of whether she would welcome his presence there or resent it. But did her approval matter?
“Abigail told us something of your methods as a portrait painter, Mr. Cunningham,” Lady Overfield said. “They sound very different from the norm. I too would love to hear more. Do please come.”
“Very well,” Joel said. “Thank you.”
“Avery will send the carriage for you, Camille,” Anna said. “And there is no point in protesting, as I can see you are about to do. I would agree with you that the distance from here to the Royal York Hotel is not a great one. But he told me to inform you—did he not, Lizzie?—that he would send the carriage, and you know him well enough to understand that he will not take no for an answer. If I were to carry a refusal back to him, he would be sure to say, looking infinitely bored, that you may choose to walk if you wish, but that the carriage will be moving along beside you anyway.”
For the first time Camille’s lips quirked into what was almost a smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“Seven o’clock, then?” Anna said. “Seven o’clock, Joel?”
“I will be there,” he promised.
The ladies made their farewells soon after, and Joel strode to the door to hold it open for them.
“It has been a pleasure, Mr. Cunningham,” Lady Overfield said, extending her hand to him again as she paused in the doorway. “I shall beg Anna to seat me beside you tomorrow evening.”
Anna was at last extending her hands to Camille, who took them awkwardly. “I am so glad you will come,” Anna said. “Everyone would have been disappointed if you had not.”
Joel closed the door after them.
* * *
“Oh, that was uncomfortable,” Anna said with a sigh as they set out in the carriage for the Royal York Hotel on George Street. “But what do you think, Lizzie?”
“I think she must have been wearing the plainest, drabbest dress she possesses,” Elizabeth said, “that her hair was untidier than I have ever seen it, that her face is thinner than it used to be, and that she was a bit flushed and uncomfortable with our sudden appearance. I also think we interrupted a waltz lesson that was about to culminate in an embrace.”
“I was not the only one who thought so, then,” Anna said. “But really, Lizzie—Joel and Camille?”
“You think it an odd pairing?” Elizabeth asked.
“Odd does not even begin to describe it,” Anna said.
“Could you possibly be a little jealous?” Elizabeth asked. “No, pardon me. Jealous is quite the wrong word, for if anyone has ever been more totally besotted with her husband than you are with Avery, I would be surprised to hear it. Protective, then. That is a better word. Are you a little protective of him, Anna?”
“It was one dance Anna had to learn when she went to London,” he said. “I had a full account of the lessons in her letters, including your part in them, ma’am. I believe you demonstrated the dance with your brother.”
“Oh goodness, yes,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Anna’s dancing master was ridiculously pompous. He would still be teaching her how to position herself correctly if Alex and I had not stepped in to demonstrate how it is actually done—with some enjoyment as well as a little bit of grace.”
“And if Avery had not arrived to insist I waltz with him instead of with Mr. Robertson, the dancing instructor,” Anna said. “I had not even heard of the waltz before I went to London.”
“I had never heard of it until you went to London either,” Joel said. “But Miss Westcott was teaching the children a country dance this afternoon, and after they had been dismissed I begged her to teach me the waltz. I account both her instruction and my efforts an unqualified success. I did not tread on her toes even once.”
They all laughed except Camille, who was impersonating a straight-backed, tight-lipped marble statue. Good God, if they had not been interrupted, he would have ended up kissing her—and she him if he was not very much mistaken. The air between them and all about them had been fairly crackling. Had it been noticeable? But how could it not have been?
“Avery has reserved a private dining room for the family at the Royal York Hotel,” Anna said, addressing Camille. “Grandmama and Aunt Matilda will not be here until next week, but Aunt Mildred and Uncle Thomas are probably on the way and may even arrive tomorrow. Abigail has agreed to dine with us tomorrow evening. Mrs. Kingsley unfortunately has another engagement. Will you come too, Camille? We would like it above all things.”
Camille’s demeanor did not change, but she hesitated for only a moment. “Thank you,” she said. “I will.”
“Oh splendid.” Anna looked again as though she might rush forward to take her half sister’s hands in her own, but she did not do so. Joel wondered if they would ever be comfortable with each other. Not that Camille was even trying, though she had accepted the invitation. Anna turned toward him. “And will you come too, Joel? Abigail told us that you are to paint her portrait and Camille’s and have already been to her grandmother’s house several times to make some preliminary sketches. I want to hear all your news. It must be almost two weeks since I last heard from you.”
It was to be a family dinner, Joel thought. He would be an outsider. He glanced at Camille, who was looking steadily back at him, her expression giving him no indication of whether she would welcome his presence there or resent it. But did her approval matter?
“Abigail told us something of your methods as a portrait painter, Mr. Cunningham,” Lady Overfield said. “They sound very different from the norm. I too would love to hear more. Do please come.”
“Very well,” Joel said. “Thank you.”
“Avery will send the carriage for you, Camille,” Anna said. “And there is no point in protesting, as I can see you are about to do. I would agree with you that the distance from here to the Royal York Hotel is not a great one. But he told me to inform you—did he not, Lizzie?—that he would send the carriage, and you know him well enough to understand that he will not take no for an answer. If I were to carry a refusal back to him, he would be sure to say, looking infinitely bored, that you may choose to walk if you wish, but that the carriage will be moving along beside you anyway.”
For the first time Camille’s lips quirked into what was almost a smile. “Thank you,” she said.
“Seven o’clock, then?” Anna said. “Seven o’clock, Joel?”
“I will be there,” he promised.
The ladies made their farewells soon after, and Joel strode to the door to hold it open for them.
“It has been a pleasure, Mr. Cunningham,” Lady Overfield said, extending her hand to him again as she paused in the doorway. “I shall beg Anna to seat me beside you tomorrow evening.”
Anna was at last extending her hands to Camille, who took them awkwardly. “I am so glad you will come,” Anna said. “Everyone would have been disappointed if you had not.”
Joel closed the door after them.
* * *
“Oh, that was uncomfortable,” Anna said with a sigh as they set out in the carriage for the Royal York Hotel on George Street. “But what do you think, Lizzie?”
“I think she must have been wearing the plainest, drabbest dress she possesses,” Elizabeth said, “that her hair was untidier than I have ever seen it, that her face is thinner than it used to be, and that she was a bit flushed and uncomfortable with our sudden appearance. I also think we interrupted a waltz lesson that was about to culminate in an embrace.”
“I was not the only one who thought so, then,” Anna said. “But really, Lizzie—Joel and Camille?”
“You think it an odd pairing?” Elizabeth asked.
“Odd does not even begin to describe it,” Anna said.
“Could you possibly be a little jealous?” Elizabeth asked. “No, pardon me. Jealous is quite the wrong word, for if anyone has ever been more totally besotted with her husband than you are with Avery, I would be surprised to hear it. Protective, then. That is a better word. Are you a little protective of him, Anna?”
