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"Are you such a stranger to women's ways'?" She laughed and put her arm about his. "Let us get something cool and refreshing while I educate you, my lord."
Chapter Twenty-one.
During his stay in London with Lord Jason, Dr. Ames had been sorely tried in many ways, but never had he had to wait upon his lordship to complete his toilet. In fact, the opposite had oft been true. Therefore on the night of the masque, Ames began early and with pointed self-satisfaction appeared at Kenton's door.
Lord Jason had difficulty deciding what to wear. Ames first stood to one side and offered suggestions. Then he leaned against the carved bedpost and watched, his illusion of Kenton as a faultless and rapid dresser dispelled.
The physician sat when is lordship's stock caused a current delay. Ames contemplated whether or not he should lay upon his lordship's bed and nap. "My lord," he ventured. What a pitiful scene. A man in love striving to dress. "Would it be ungallant of me to mention that your domino will cover almost all of what you have laboured over?"
Kenton flung an unappreciative frown at Ames.
"We are already late," Ames said carelessly. "Should I send a message that-"
"Your point is well noted, Benjamin. I am finished." With a last glimpse at his finely-knitted fawn-coloured breeches, a tug at the fawn waistcoat covered with embroidery in shades of rust, a shrug to test the fit of his rust evening coat, and an adjustment to his cream-coloured stock, he left his mirror. Picking up the black domino, Kenton paused.
"Do you suppose I should have gotten a domino of different colour?" Ames's look of utter disbelief was sufficient answer.
A like scene was being played at the comtesse's. While Joanne's interest in her appearance had increased greatly since coming to London, it was her aunt who usually found fault with it. This eve, however, Joanne had already changed gowns five times. The comtesse entered her niece's chamber just as Joanne removed the fifth gown.
"Surely you are not going to change again?" she asked, hidden laughter sparkling through her words.
"It just does not suit. What am I to do?" Joanne asked plaintively.
"I believe the first-the bright sunshine yellow was the best selection," her aunt answered. "Why not put it on and not look in the mirror. That is the only cure for such indecision. After all, the domino will cover all but the skirt.
"But hurry now. Lord Jason is past due already and it would never suit him to be kept waiting." once again donned the yellow gown.
"Lord Jason's coach is too small for three gowns held out by panniers and three gentlemen. It would not have been polite to suggest he find a larger one.
"Now we are quite familiar with Lord Jason and Dr. Ames. Do you not desire some time to speak with them without others about?" the comtesse baited.
"Certainly I am pleased to be able to visit with Benjamin," Joanne returned, thinking how difficult it would be to bear Kenton's company without the diversion of others.
"Why the frown?" questioned her aunt. "Afraid Lord Humbolt will choose not to come?"
"What? Oh, no. I am quite certain he will bring Sarah. So should you be," she tossed a puzzled glance at the comtesse, "for it was you who asked if he would mind going separately."
"Right you are. There, the gown is fastened. Now, gather your gloves, reticule-don't forget your fan. It will be beastly warm," the comtesse called as she moved lightly to the door. "And do not forget to bring your domino."
"Good eve, Benjamin, Lord Jason," the Comtesse de Clarte greeted the men as they entered her drawing room. She saw Kenton's eyes fasten on Joanne, who refused to look at him.
"Come, come, everyone," she chattered, bustling about, and hurried all to the waiting coach. "Benjamin, how elegant you look this eve. You must sit beside me," she told him with a wink as they stepped out into the street.
"The comtesse is very lovely tonight," Joanne said to Kenton, attempting to put her good intention to work.
"I suppose she is," came tactlessly from Jason who found Joanne irresistibly beautiful this eve.
"You-you are-in good looks." He stumbled over the words, his tongue refused to cooperate.
How tall, how elegant he is, Joanne thought, the handsomest of men.
"Are you going to stay in the street?" prompted the comtesse when the pair stood at the door gazing at each other.
Kenton started. "Your hand, my lady," he offered.
Laying her hand in his firm, warm hold, Joanne drew her breath in sharply and hastened to step up into the coach. His touch was a spark to the dry straw of her heart. Sitting, she met her aunt's curious look and tightness curled in her throat.
In the street Kenton hesitated, the desire to stalk away strong upon him. Could he be so close to his love; have her beauty so near and not take her in his arms, not kiss the frown now upon her brow away?
He took a deep breath, bidding his heart be still.
Tell her how ravishing she is, it insisted, but an unfamiliar awkwardness seized him. He sat, catching shambles by the time her skirt was free and both seated again.
Beside him, suffering similarly, Joanne did not notice Kenton's sudden ineptness. The pulse beating within yearned for his arm to be close about her, for those brown eyes staring so resolutely ahead to look at her full of love. Joanne snapped her fan open. It would never do to wonder how the touch of his lips would feel when she thrilled so at a mere touch of his hand.
I cannot endure this, she thought, fanning herself distractedly. I must not think. He loves the comtesse. Suddenly tears welled. Behind her fan she rubbed one from the corner of her eye, thankful for the darkness.
"Ellen is doing well," Kenton blurted, his mind finally finding a subject. "She has missed you." He looked at Joanne.
G.o.d, how I have missed you, he thought.
"I have oft had her in my thoughts-have written her because of it." Joanne glanced at his profile. And thought about you, she added. A new fear entered her heart. Perhaps Jason was so cold to her because Ellen had spoken-had told him all she had said of her love for him. It had been easy to speak of that love to the little foundling. If only Jason could love her as Ellen did.
"Has she ever spoken?" she asked.
"No, she has not." He thought of his last visit with Ellen, how she had run to hug him. How he had seen her run to hug Joanne so oft in the past. Joanne loved the blue-eyed waif. If she could but love him a little as well.
Desultory conversation ensued as the two battled to control their emotions; to control the desire that flamed afresh at each brush of their arms, at each glance.
Beside them the comtesse revived; her gay spirit soared. With the two together at last, acting just as two people in love ought to act, the matter was definitely looked more promising. What she had in mind for this eve should open the way for a marriage announcement on the morrow. Perhaps later, she conceded, considering Kenton's penchant for being proper.
Content to let them struggle with the conversation, she thought placidly of weddings and happier days, never realizing how close marriage actually hovered.
The streets they travelled were filled with people elegantly gowned ladies with plumes and jewels, silver buckle shod gentlemen with powder and patch, inconspicuous pickpockets with quicksilver fingers, and the ordinary folk with eyes eager for all. Nearing the entrance of Raneleagh, their coach was slowed by the force of the throng as many were gathered in cl.u.s.ters, hawking flowers, ogling, and hara.s.sing those entering.
"We had better put on our dominos," the comtesse chirped to Joanne, "or we shall have little chance of concealing our ident.i.ties.
"Lord Jason, please a.s.sist Joanne. It is quite impossible to put the mask on without crushing one's hair." She handed Ames hers as if to prove the necessity. was a struggle in itself.
The comtesse soon realised that Kenton was stymied. "Joanne, if you turn your back to Lord Jason, matters will be much simplified," she offered.
Unusually biddable, Joanne managed the pannier enough to turn. His lordship reached out; their hands touched as Joanne reached up to position the mask. Their pulses leaped in response.
His heart pounding awry, Kenton managed to tie the mask. Taking the hooded cloak, he brushed her shoulders.
Impulses to laugh, to scream, to cry raged in Joanne. His very touch inflamed her. It was a torture difficult to endure when she knew she would never be held in his arms.
In relief, both settled back in place. Each sought to recall their resolves: Joanne to try and aid the comtesse, Kenton not to vent to his feelings.
The resolutions were promptly weakened as Kenton handed Joanne out of the coach. The high spirits of those milling about them made it evident that the men would have to shield the ladies from the bolder sallies.
As Ames had somehow managed to have his arm about the comtesse, Kenton could only turn to Joanne. She misconstrued his reluctance and bit her lip to stay the threatening tears as his arm settled protectively about her.
He guided her forward; relished her nearness. The crowd jostled them, threw them together. How canshe not see my love, he thought, as Joanne clung to his arm.
The mob pushed them on in a sea of motion. Even after entering the safety of the gardens Kenton did not relinquish his hold, nor did Joanne attempt to move from it as they followed the comtesse and Dr.
Ames into the Rotunda.
Dancing had already begun and Joanne watched with a heavy heart the graceful movements of the dancers which were accentuated by the brilliant array of coloured hoods and gowns. The lights were brighter, the people gayer, everything intensified because of Kenton's presence beside her.
Insistent upon dancing, the comtesse drew Ames away.
"Would you care to dance?" Kenton asked Joanne stiffly.
"Only if you wish, my lord," she answered with equal reserve.
What does she think? Feel? he questioned as he gazed at her, his longing clear to all but Joanne. DareI take the chance?
Why do you hesitate? his heart asked. She is no longer the girl-child who thought of you as a father.
A careless reveller stumbled into Kenton, pushing him against Joanne. Reaching out to regain hisbalance, he found her in his arms. Reason forced him to drop his hold. If only we could be alone, he "Let us dance, my lord," Joanne breathed, the comtesse forgotten as hope surged. Had she read his gaze aright?
Their eyes met-held. Trancelike, they joined the dancers. Heartbeat answered heartbeat as they moved through the motions of the dance, conscious only of each other. The magic ended only when Joanne was claimed for the next dance when the music stopped.
A steady stream of partners, all of who teased her to guess who they were, kept Jason frustratingly faraway. At last she pled fatigue and sought the comtesse's pet.i.te form among those standing at the side.She caught sight of her aunt and made to join her.
A hand grabbed her arm.