Jack of Hearts (15 page)

Christmas morning was leisurely, with a late breakfast after which Elspeth announced that presents would be opened in the morning room. Anne’s father had celebrated Christmas, of course, but usually their exchange of gifts on Christmas Eve involved only a few small trinkets. Anne was amazed at the pile of brightly wrapped parcels piled up in front of the fire. She was a little anxious, for she had brought only one present for each guest. And she hadn’t known Elspeth’s parents would be there.

But as names were called out and wrapping and ribbons piled up on the floor, she let go of her worries. Most of the presents were small, and Major Gordon was so charming when he handed her a box containing a flask of French perfume that she didn’t say a word of apology for not having a gift for him.

Anne was happy that Val was so grateful for the leather-bound account books she gave him, and Elspeth’s exclamation of pleasure as she fingered the length of soft green wool was enough for Anne. Lord Faringdon gave her a warm smile when he opened his gift from her—a volume of history.

There was no question of exchange between her and Jack Belden, of course, but his smiles of approval at her gifts made Anne almost forget her resolutions of the night before.

“Dinner will be early today, for we are all invited to a supper dance at Squire Leveret’s,” Val announced. “But there is plenty of time for walking or riding…or relaxing in here with a new book.”

Lord Faringdon chose to read his book, but Val, Elspeth, and Mrs. Gordon were eager for a ride.

“Will you ride with us, Anne? Jack?”

“I think I prefer to walk today,” said Anne.

“And I’ll join Miss Heriot on her walk, if she doesn’t mind.”

“What about you, Ian?”

“I’ll keep the young folks company, Peggy,” said Major Gordon, and Elspeth sent her father a grateful glance.

“There is a path at the back of the house that leads to the moor,” Val told them.

They set off after waving good-bye to the riders. Both Major Gordon and Lord Aldborough were wrapped in their army cloaks, and Anne was glad that she had thought to bring her old broadcloth cape and a warm pair of brogues. No one spoke much as they climbed, but when they reached the moor, they all stopped to admire the view.

“Is this at all like Scotland, Major Gordon?” asked Anne.

“Something like it, but flatter.”

The sun was strong and the day warmer than the past few, but a cold wind blew across the moor and they all pulled their cloaks around them and started walking to keep warm.

“I hear ye couldn’t resist a long, cold ride, laddie,” teased Major Gordon. “Do ye miss the war that much?”

Jack laughed. “Not the war, certainly. But there is something about danger that keeps one feeling alive.”

“Oh, aye, I know what ye mean. I don’t know how Peggy and I will deal with retirement.”

“So you are saying good-bye to the army, sir?”

“ ‘Tis time. The war is over and I did my part to help win it. And now that I have a grandson on the way…”

“Or granddaughter,” Anne reminded him tartly.

Major Gordon smiled. “Or granddaughter—it will be good to be close to Elspeth and Val.” He turned to Jack. “But inheriting a title and managing an estate should be challenge enough, Jack.”

“I am not sure ‘challenge’ is the right word, sir. At least in the army I had some hope of success, of my efforts counting for something. My uncle was almost bankrupt when he died, and he left his widow and two daughters to provide for.”

“I’m sorry, lad. I didn’t know.” Major Gordon clapped Jack on the shoulder. “You’ll just have to find yourself a duke’s daughter. It shouldn’t be hard, not with your reputation.”

There was an embarrassed silence, and the major looked closely at Jack’s face.

“It is precisely my reputation that works against me, sir.”

Major Gordon laughed. “The mothers don’t trust you, eh? Why, then, what about someone like wee Annie,” teased the major, putting his arm around Anne and drawing her close. “She’s a practical lass, experienced at managing things, aren’t you, Annie? But she might feel just like those mothers, that a man known as the Jack of Hearts may make a poor husband!”

“Indeed she might,” Jack said dryly. He was usually amused by Major Gordon’s tendency to plain-speaking, but even though he knew the major had been joking and knew nothing of the situation, he was ready to throttle him.

“You are shivering, Annie,” said the major as he felt Anne shaking. “Let’s get you home.”

They had wandered a way out onto the moor, but at least on their way home the wind was at their backs. When they finally reached the house, Anne made her escape, saying she wished to repair the damage to her hair and clothes from the wind.

Ian Gordon and Jack found their way to the drawing room and stood close to the fire, warming their hands.

“I was only teasing you out there, lad, but I kept thinking about it as we walked home, and it seems to me that you and Anne would do well together. Her father educated her above her station, and if I remember correctly, was planning on looking for a title for her. You couldn’t find a better lass.”

“I would have to agree with you, sir. In fact, Miss Heriot has decided to honor her father’s wishes and is, er, looking for a title for herself. In fact, I have tried to suggest that I would be a good candidate, but she distrusts my reputation.”

Major Gordon looked at Jack, his embarrassment written clearly on his face. “Oh, laddie, Peggy would have my head for this. I didn’t know anything about your situation, and there was Annie, and she is such a sweet lass and a pretty one…and a rich one, Jack, and could solve all your problems.”

“Elspeth and Val look at it in the same way, which is why I was invited, to give me an advantage over Leighton and Windham.”

“Leighton? I don’t know much about him. Old title. But Windham? Wasn’t he engaged to be married?”

“He had to break it off when his father lost everything in a bad investment and shot himself.”

“It was a love match, if the gossip was right. I’d hate to see Annie married to a man whose heart was given elsewhere.”

“It is hard to tell whom she favors, except that it most certainly is not me!”

“What about your heart, lad? Have you ever given it?”

Major Gordon had the knack of disarming one’s defenses by humor and then suddenly taking the conversation to a deeper level, thought Jack, as the major looked at him seriously.

“No, I don’t think I ever have. My liaisons have always been friendly and left me heart-whole.”

“Aside from her obvious financial suitability, what do you think of Anne Heriot?”

Jack turned his gaze to the fire and watched the flames flicker and dance around the logs that fueled them. Love was often compared to a fire, he thought, and yet he had never experienced the flaring of anything but desire. Off in the corner, there was a small piece of half-burned wood, not on fire, really, but resting on a pile of orange ash that threw out bright little sparks. Jack knew that sooner or later the wood would catch, and suddenly, it seemed to him a good image for his feelings for Anne Heriot. He certainly had not gone up in a conflagration of “love at first sight,” but he had to admit that in her presence he felt the spark of something. Attraction? Yes. Admiration? Certainly, for as he learned more about her background, he could see what an accomplished young woman she was. Affection? Yes, he was beginning to like Anne Heriot very much indeed.

He turned back to Major Gordon. “I confess that my initial interest in Miss Heriot was sparked by her fortune. Now that I know her better, however, I am drawn to her for other reasons.”

“Aye, she is a pretty lass.”

“And a smart one.”

“So you might come to love her, then? Annie needs someone to love her after that cold father of hers.”

“Well, it is all speculation, anyway,” said Jack, with a rueful grin. “I am last on her list, after all!”

“Things can change, lad, things can change.”

* * * *

Christmas dinner was as elaborate as Christmas Eve had been simple, and by the time the pudding was brought to the table, they all groaned in chorus.

As each slice was served, Anne said a little prayer that she would be spared a silver charm. Any other time she would have enjoyed the teasing that went along with it, but here, with Lord Aldborough at the table, it would be too embarrassing.

Then Jack yelped, as with one of his last spoonfuls he almost swallowed a little silver trinket.

Everyone turned to look at him, and he flushed.

“Married within the year, Jack!” cried Val.

“Ye can relax, laddie. All your problems will be solved,” added Major Gordon.

“Are you sure that is what it means?”

“It is a time-honored prediction, Jack,” Elspeth assured him, with a straight face but twinkling eyes.

No one looked at Anne, for which she was truly grateful. It would have been awful to have received knowing looks that suggested a link between Jack Belden’s fate and her own. Major Gordon’s comments on the moor had been bad enough.

“Well, I suppose that means some mama has had a change of heart and thinks I’d be the perfect husband for her daughter,” laughed Jack. “I will go into the Season with renewed hope,” he added. “Do I get to keep the charm, Elspeth?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” said Jack as he slipped it into his pocket.

Anne gave a soft sigh of relief. She was very grateful to Jack for his indirect message. He had clearly resigned himself to the fact that she would never choose him.

* * * *

Squire Leveret’s house was already full when the Aston party arrived. Val and Elspeth were whisked off at the door to meet their new neighbors, and the others made their way into the drawing room, which had been cleared to become a makeshift ballroom. It was hung with evergreens. And mistletoe. Finding that his wife was standing under one little branch, Major Gordon drew her to him and gave her a loving kiss. “There, Peggy. Now make sure I am the only one to find you under one of these.”

“They are tuning up. May I have the first dance, Anne?” Lord Faringdon asked her.

“I should be delighted, sir.”

Jack watched as the couples moved off. Standing there alone, he was struck by a wave of melancholy that seemed to come out of nowhere. He supposed it had to do with the failure of his plan to capture Miss Heriot’s hand over the holiday. Or perhaps it came from seeing the obvious affection between the Gordons.

It didn’t matter where it came from, he told himself. It only mattered that he get away from it. He searched the room and found what he was looking for—a possible dance partner in a simply dressed young woman sitting with some older ladies in the corner.

He made his way over as quickly as he could. “May I have this dance?” he asked.

She looked up at him, surprised pleasure on her face. “I would love to, sir, but we haven’t been introduced.”

Jack turned to one of the older women next to her and, giving her his most charming smile, said, “The musicians are almost finished their tuning, ma’am, and I will never find my hostess in time. Would you introduce me?”

“I will be happy to, if you will only introduce yourself to me, sir!”

“Jack Belden, Lord Aldborough, ma’am.”

“Lord Aldborough, may I introduce Miss Susan Blakely.”

“Come, Miss Blakely, before the sets are filled.”

“Should you have done that, Martha? I have never seen you so unconventional,” said one of the woman’s companions.

“Oh, I suppose I shouldn’t have, but I felt sorry for Susan. I gave her a dance with the most attractive man in the room.”

“But who
is
he?”

“A friend of the Astons’. And for some odd reason, I felt sorry for him, too,” she added.

* * * *

Susan Blakely, who was governess to the squire’s children, found that her dance with Lord Aldborough brought her to the attention of several young men from the neighborhood and she danced more that evening than she had the whole of last year.

Jack himself was not disappointed, for she was a good dancer. The musicians went from one vigorous country dance to another, and by the time they stopped, he felt his black mood lifting. He thanked Miss Blakely most sincerely and went to find some refreshment.

* * * *

Anne was having a very satisfying evening. After her dance with Charles, she had been sought out by a number of men. One of her most enjoyable partners was the squire himself, who was a most graceful dancer, despite the fact that he was short and rotund. It was a perfect end to a lovely Christmas Day, and after their dance, she had relaxed her vigilance and unknowingly stopped under one of the ubiquitous branches of mistletoe.

“May I get you a glass of punch, Miss Heriot?”

She hadn’t noticed Lord Aldborough until he was in front of her.

“Thank you, my lord. I
am
thirsty,” she confessed.

Just as Jack was about to move away, however, a loud cry went up from a small group of the younger guests, who were too old for the nursery and too young to dance. They had been amusing themselves all night by keeping an eagle eye out for those who stopped under the kissing boughs.

“You must kiss the young lady first, my lord,” cried a young man whose shirt points reached his ears.

It seemed to Anne that the whole room must be watching them. Damn the man! She’d thought he’d given up on his unrealistic hopes and here he was, trapping her in front of everyone.

“I swear I didn’t see it, Miss Heriot,” Jack muttered, giving the young man his darkest look. “But since we are caught,” he added, turning back to Anne with that smile that changed his whole face, “why not enjoy it?”

Jack had intended only to drop a quick kiss on Anne’s cheek, but she was standing so much like a martyr at the stake that in a streak of contrariness, he put a finger under her chin to lift her face to his and, leaning down, pressed his lips to hers.

Anne had been expecting that he would immediately draw back, but he lingered a moment, gently coaxing a response. To her surprise and against her will, her mouth opened under his, and she released an involuntary sigh of pleasure that turned into one of disappointment when he pulled away.