Jack of Hearts (14 page)

“So you have read it?”

“Well, you cannot forbid something and expect a lass not to seek it out, my lord.”

“Well, here is one, although I am sure you’ll have something against this one also:

It lies not in our power to love or hate

For will in us is overruled by fate.

…………

Where both deliberate, the love is slight.

Whoever loved, that loved not at first sight?

Anne gave him a superior smile. “I find Mr. Marlowe the most fatuous of all.”

“So you don’t believe in such instantaneous attraction, then?”

“I do not believe that such attraction is love, my lord. As usual, the poet exaggerates.”

“I think I must yield to your practicality, Miss Heriot. I confess myself to be more a romantic than you are after all.”

On the surface, their conversation was merely the sort of banter one used to pass the time, but Anne knew she had conveyed an unspoken message: “Don’t try your charms on me, my lord. Poetry will not convince me any more than your frankness did.”

Jack was by no means oblivious to Anne’s message. She was the most exasperating young woman he had ever encountered. On the other hand, there was a crackly tension in the air that he was sure did not emanate from him alone. He continued paging through the book until he was at the very beginning and without thinking, he read aloud the first lyric:

Western wind, when wilt thou blow?

The small rain down can rain?

Christ, if my love were in my arms,

And I in my bed again!

Anne’s eyes met his in surprise for a split second, and then she lowered her gaze and blushed. “I have never heard that poem before,” she said softly.

“I suspect your teachers would not have approved of “Anonymous’ any more than they did of Marvell,” said Jack with a grin. “He is very plainspoken, though, Miss Heriot. No folderol here.”

“I must agree with you, my lord. But there is no proof, is there, that the author is a ‘he’? It may have been written by a woman.” The words were out of Anne’s mouth before she thought, and she couldn’t believe she had said them.

“I suppose it could have been,” Jack admitted. “Perhaps a woman like you, direct and plainspoken.”

Just then the door opened and Elspeth walked in. Anne had never in her life been so grateful to see another person.

“We were just reading some poetry, Elspeth,” said Jack, his words innocent but his tone full of mischief.

“Poetry? I am surprised you did not put Anne to sleep. It was her least favorite subject at school.”

“So Miss Heriot informed me. I see you can’t pry Val loose.”

“He has
promised
me that he will be here at any minute.”

“And here I am, my darling wife,” said Val, coming in behind her. “Now, what are the plans for this afternoon?”

“I thought Anne and I might go for a ride. The snow was lighter than it looked. Does either of you wish to join us?”

“I have a few errands in the village,” Val said vaguely.

“And I want to give Sancho a day of rest,” said Jack.

“We could mount you easily, Jack,” Elspeth offered.

“I must confess I am giving myself a day to rest also.”

After the women left, the men settled in front of the fire.

“You don’t seem to be in a hurry to do your errands, Val. If you need a companion, I’d be happy to walk into Ripley with you.”

“I don’t have any errands, Jack. I have arranged a surprise for Elspeth, and I am waiting for them,” Val confessed with a smile.

“For them?”

“Yes. Her parents. I asked Ian to request an earlier leave. If it hadn’t been for the weather, I’d have expected them yesterday.”

“I am sure Elspeth will be very pleased.”

“I shouldn’t be saying anything, but Elspeth and I have an announcement to make tomorrow, and I wanted her parents here.”

“An announcement?”

“She is increasing,” said Val, with a sheepish look.

“Why, that is wonderful, Val! My God, you’ll be a father!”

“You had better have a believable look of surprise on your face tomorrow,” Val warned his friend.

“I will, I promise. What does it feel like?”

“Terrifying. I have no idea how to be a father, Jack, never having had one myself.”

“Charles came into your life rather late, didn’t he?”

“And I resented the hell out of him. We didn’t become close until Charlie died.”

“I am lucky. My father is a good man and spent more time with us than most parents. Speaking of fathers,” continued Jack, trying to sound casual, “what sort of father was Robert Heriot?”

Val gave his friend an amused glance. “From what Elspeth says, he loved his daughter but was not very good at showing it. Their most intimate moments were spent over the account books.”

“Perhaps that explains why Miss Heriot is such a relentlessly practical woman,” said Jack with a sigh.

“They’re two of a kind, Elspeth and Anne, two plainspoken lasses. But even the most practical woman has a romantic side. Don’t give up. Elspeth is sure you were made for each other.”

“So you’ve told me,” Jack said dryly. “Your wife is more of a dreamer than you think, Val, if she supposes Miss Heriot to be vulnerable to my wooing. Why, reading poetry to her only led to a discussion of how wrongheaded poets are about love!”

* * * *

The two men spent a comfortable half hour in front of the fire, and then they heard a muffled clattering in the drive.

“It must be the Gordons,” said Val. “They made it!”

It was indeed Elspeth’s parents, and Val and Jack hurried out to greet them.

“I am so glad to see you, sir,” Val exclaimed. “How were the roads?”

“Not that bad, Valentine. The snow squalls we had yesterday were deceptive. They looked worse than they were.”

“Unless you were riding in them,” said Val, gesturing at Jack, who was helping Mrs. Gordon down.

“So it’s Captain Belden! Or I should say, Lord Aldborough. You didn’t get enough of cold rides in the army, eh, lad?”

“Well, yesterday might have convinced me of the benefits of retirement, sir!”

“Oh, Yorkshire can be wild, and the storm was coming from the north…but nothing like Scotland, eh, Peggy?” said Major Gordon, pulling his wife close to him and dropping a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go.

That quick little gesture of affection touched something in Jack. He had friends who were engaged and a few who were in good marriages, like Val. But to see that the Gordons still expressed their love for one another so easily and spontaneously after all these years together moved him profoundly. For the first time, he imagined himself dropping a kiss so easily, leaning over to touch his lips to dark brown hair threaded with gray. He stood there for a moment as the others went inside, struck by the fact that the woman in his fantasy came up only to his chest. The woman in his vision of long-married bliss was Anne Heriot.

“Are you coming, Jack?”

Val’s voice brought him out of his reverie, but it occurred to him as he went in the door that he couldn’t replace Anne Heirot’s image with any of the women he’d been with over the years or any of the young ladies whose hearts he had unwittingly won.

* * * *

Anne and Elspeth were out for a good two hours, and when they returned Elspeth wondered aloud at the strange carriage.

“Who could be visiting us so late in the day, and on Christmas Eve? Whose carriage is this?” she asked their groom.

“I don’t really know, Mrs. Aston,” said the groom, who had been sworn to secrecy.

When Elspeth got to the house, she asked the butler and got a vague answer: “Someone on estate business, madame. Mr. Aston is closeted with them, er, him in the library.”

“Well, tell my husband I will be down shortly and remind him we are dining early because it is
Christmas Eve
.” Elspeth’s annoyance at Val’s obsessive concern with the estate accounts on a holiday eve was clear. “Come, Anne, we are going to dress for dinner, and then we are going to drag Val out of his cave!”

* * * *

When Elspeth and Anne came down half an hour later, there was no one in the library.

“Where on earth is he?” muttered Elspeth.

“I hear voices in the drawing room,” Anne told her.

“If he has invited this person to stay, I will be annoyed.”

Anne smiled. “Will be” was hardly accurate. Elspeth was very annoyed now, and she opened the door to the drawing room with an angry push, and then stopped so suddenly that Anne almost bumped into her.

“Valentine, how could you!”

Anne could tell from Elspeth’s tone that whatever Val had done, she was no longer annoyed.

Then all was a flurry of “Mama, Papa.” “There, there, ma wee lassie,” and “Darling, we are so happy to be here…” and Anne watched in amusement as Elspeth rested her head for a moment on her father’s shoulder and then turned to Val, her voice breaking.

“Oh, Val, how ever did you get them here and how did you know what a perfect Christmas present this would be?”

Anne stood in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt the family reunion. Jack, who had been standing with his back toward her, suddenly turned and gave her a smile that lit his whole face and made her catch her breath. It was a smile one friend might give another. It conveyed his happiness for Elspeth, as well as his enjoyment at seeing her shaken out of her usual sangfroid.

It was also a smile that communicated more than just fellow-feeling. It held all of the charm that Jack Belden was famous for, and for the first time since she’d seen that charm, it had its effect on Anne. She had to take a deep breath to steady herself before she approached the Gordons.

“Why, there’s ma wee Yorkshire lass,” said Major Gordon, coming over and grabbing Anne’s hands in his.

“It is good to see you again, Major Gordon. I am pleased that you remember me.”

“Of course I remember you, Annie. It wasn’t that long ago, after all, and ye haven’t grown an inch!”

Everyone laughed. “Anne is the true ‘wee lass,’ Father, not me,” Elspeth said dryly. “Val, could we have some wine?”

“Samuels is on his way, Elspeth. In fact, here he is. But with champagne, not sherry,” added Val, standing next to his wife and putting his arm around her waist.

“Champagne!” exclaimed Mrs. Gordon.

“It is Christmas Eve, Peggy,” said her husband, “and we’re all here together.”

“And Val and I have an announcement to make,” said Elspeth.

“First a toast!” said her father.

“Hush, Ian,” said Mrs. Gordon, a knowing gleam in her eye. “Elspeth has something to tell us.”

“Val and I are going to be parents,” announced Elspeth, her face pink with both pleasure and self-consciousness.

“Ye’re to be a mother!” exclaimed her father joyously. “When is my grandson expected?”

“Or granddaughter, Ian,” his wife reminded him.

“Sometime in June,” replied Val.

“Congratulations to both of you,” said Charles.

“What a lovely night for such an announcement,” Anne said after they had drunk their toast.

“I had been planning to tell you all over Christmas dinner, but I couldn’t wait, not after seeing Mother and Father.”

“Have you picked a name yet?” asked Major Gordon.

“We have talked about it already,” said Val. “It is to be Margaret if it is a girl,” he said, nodding at Elspeth’s mother.

“And if it is a boy?” Jack asked him.

Val looked over at his father. “Charles,” he said. “Perhaps ‘Charlie’ for short.”

“Thank you, Valentine,” his father said softly, but everyone could hear the emotion in his voice.

Just then a footman appeared in the doorway. “Supper is ready,” announced Elspeth.

* * * *

After a light supper, the carriages were brought ‘round to take them to church for Christmas Eve services. Anne was happy to see that the church, although beautifully decorated, was plain, and the service closer to her own chapel background than she had expected. The hymns were all the familiar carols, and as Anne lifted her voice on “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” she could hear Jack Belden’s resonant baritone behind her. He had a beautiful voice, she had to admit, and he sang with feeling.

The moon was almost full and though the night was cold, it had warmed up from the day before, so the parishioners lingered a little in the doorway, wishing one another a Merry Christmas.

Anne found herself next to Jack as they waited for the carriages to be brought ‘round.

“It is a beautiful, clear night, Lord Aldborough,” she remarked politely.

“The stars are all so bright, aren’t they?”

“The church looked very beautiful, so filled with light, although I am not used to so many candles.”

“We need the light in this dark time of year.”

Their words could have been spoken by any polite acquaintances, yet Anne was aware of an undercurrent between them. It was as though Jack Belden’s presence made her more aware of the bright moon floating above them and the stars’ coruscating brilliance. She was very grateful that she ended up in the carriage carrying the Astons, while Jack took his place beside the Gordons.

When they got home, they were welcomed by more candlelight, and Elspeth had port served before they all took themselves off to bed. Anne lay awake for a while, wondering what it was that drew her attention to Lord Aldborough almost against her will. Whatever it was, she was determined not to succumb to it. She was not like those silly widgeons in London, so vulnerable to a glance or a smile. She was a grown woman who knew what she wanted a comfortable marriage with someone like Lord Windham or Baron Leighton. She could imagine herself with either of them, developing an affectionate partnership over the years, their lives together as calm as a meandering stream.

She might also, unfortunately, be able to imagine herself enjoying a kiss of Jack Belden’s, but thank God, she could not form a mental picture of him as a husband. The man she would choose would be steady and practical and wouldn’t dream of riding the Yorkshire moors in a snowstorm. And above all, he would not constantly be drawing the attention of other women!

Satisfied that her feelings of attraction were but an aberration and hadn’t deflected her from her purpose, Anne fell asleep.