Chapter Forty
The receiving line at the ball was long with so many Andersons and Malorys present. Clinton stood at the head of the line with Georgina and Jacqueline next to him so he could introduce his niece to old friends of the family’s. The Willards, who were renowned for hosting their own balls each winter, came through first.
Reverend Teal was next and paused to say to James, “I’m delighted to see you and Georgina are still married.” When James had shown up bruised and battered at the private marriage ceremony that Teal had been asked to perform all those years ago, the reverend had been quite sure that James had been forced to participate, so his remark tonight was genuine.
“We tried to undo that, Reverend,” Warren said on James’s right. “Really we did. Unfortunately, James couldn’t be coerced twice.”
James raised a golden brow at Warren. This Anderson used to have the worse temper of the lot, had tried to hang James. But Warren’s temperament had changed completely when he married Amy, so much so that James couldn’t get a rise out of him no matter how often he’d tried over the years.
“Feeling brave on the home front, are you?” James said drily to his brother-in-law. “If I’d known that’s all it took, I would have visited more often.”
Warren grinned. “Like hell you would have. It’s too bad you didn’t figure out a way to avoid this. We hoped—er, thought you would!”
“The thought of taking on you and your brothers again at the scene of your brief triumph was too much to resist, dear boy, I assure you. Of course, George will insist it be one-on-one this time—not five on one.”
“She won’t allow it and you know it,” Warren rejoined confidently.
“We can wait until she goes to bed.”
But Georgina overheard that and leaned forward to tell her second-oldest brother, “Don’t bait him, Warren. James has promised me that he’ll be on his best behavior tonight.”
“More’s the pity,” James said, waiting only until Georgina turned away to jab Warren with his elbow, hard. “But do take this up again tomorrow, Yank.”
Once the last guest arrived, James and Anthony took to the floor with their daughters to start the ball off. Their dark formalwear was the perfect foil to the girls’ sparkling gowns, Jack in pink silk, Judy in pale blue. Drew and Warren joined Georgina on the side of the floor.
“He actually knows how to dance?”
“Shut up, Drew,” Georgina said without glancing at him, wiping away a tear as she watched her husband and daughter twirling by.
“But you must admit, this is just so not like him,” Warren said on her other side.
“Tonight it is. He’ll do anything for Jack, including adhering to traditions he would otherwise thumb his nose at—including bringing us here.”
“That was writ in blood long ago,” Drew reminded her.
Georgina rolled her eyes. “Remember who you’re talking about, as if something James said on the day of Jack’s birth, when he was so overwhelmed with emotion, would make a jot of difference now—particularly considering who he said it to.”
Drew laughed. “James overwhelmed?”
She tried to swat his shoulder, but Drew was adept at staying out of his sister’s reach when he saw it coming. “It was Jack who wanted to come,” she told them. “She didn’t want to disappoint you, so we came.”
Warren put an arm around her waist and squeezed. “We know how much he loves her, Georgie.”
On the dance floor, Jacqueline was having nearly the same thought as her uncles. “I didn’t expect this, you know.”
James smiled. “Didn’t you?”
“As if I don’t know how much you hate dancing? You could have claimed a sprained foot. I would have backed you up and helped you hobble around.”
“Hobble? Me?” He rolled his eyes before he stressed, “And I don’t sprain feet. But I am exactly where I want to be, m’dear. Besides, now these young bucks know who they have to get past to get to you.”
She beamed a smile at him, whether he was serious or not. Dancing past them, Judith was smiling at her father, too, which made Anthony comment, “Your mood seems remarkably improved, poppet. I hope it’s not because one of these Yanks has caught your eye already.”
She laughed at his less than subtle attempt at slyness. “D’you really think I’d mention it if they did?”
“I promise I won’t kill him.”
He said it with a grin, which she returned. “I know you won’t. But, no, no one here has caught my interest yet.”
“Not even young Denison? Amy was so sure you’d like him.”
Raymond Denison was supposed to be there tonight, but she couldn’t recall having met him yet. “He wasn’t able to come to the soiree last night. Perhaps he couldn’t make it to the ball, either.”
“Judy!” Anthony said, looking at her incredulously. “He gave you three compliments in the receiving line. If he had spouted one more, I was going to forcibly move him along. You really don’t recall?”
She blushed slightly, but then grinned. “I was probably distracted, remembering Mama’s admonishment to enjoy myself here without falling in love with an American. But if you want me to form an interest in Mr. Denison, you can take me to meet him again as soon as we finish this dance.”
“Bite your tongue. If he wasn’t memorable enough for you, we’ll keep it at that.”
She did meet Raymond Denison later, though, and danced with him. He appeared to be quite the catch. Jacqueline even pouted that he was more handsome than her Quintin. Judith wasn’t sure if she was teasing. But Raymond was the equivalent of an English gentleman, an American man of leisure. His family apparently owned long-established businesses not just in Connecticut but all over New England, and he was the young heir to it all. He was amusing. She laughed quite a bit with him, much more than with the other young men she danced with. But she had a feeling even bad humor would have made her laugh tonight, she was feeling so bubbly inside. And no matter whom she danced with, she wished it were Nathan instead. . . .
Amy was ecstatic. As the evening wound down, she’d received so many compliments it was clear her first gala event was a resounding success. Even her first attempt at matchmaking appeared to have worked. She said to Jacqueline when she joined her at the refreshment table after dancing with Andrássy, “Judy seems quite taken with Raymond Denison. Have you noticed how often she’s laughed with him tonight?”
Jack grinned. “Like Jaime, it just took a new man for her to stop lamenting over the wrong one.”
“Then she said something to you about Raymond?”
“She hasn’t stopped dancing long enough for me to ask!”
“If you mean Judith, I quite agree,” Catherine said as she stepped up to them. “I was hoping to get her opinion about this wonderful man I’ve met.”
“Who?” Amy asked, but amended with a laugh, “I’ll ask again later! I must find out why the champagne is running low.”
“But the night is almost over!” Jacqueline called after her cousin, not wanting to be left alone with Catherine, but Amy didn’t pause as she hurried off.
“Will you join me in the garden for a moment to meet him?” Catherine continued. “I just want to see what another young woman thinks of him before I consider delaying my trip even longer—because of him.”
“Is this the man you met in town while shopping?” Jack asked.
“Why, yes, it is.”
“Then why don’t you bring him inside?”
“Because he wasn’t invited. But we danced in the garden. That was quite romantic. I’m surprised you haven’t tried it with your young man.”
Now that was a sore subject. Jacqueline had twice tried to get Quintin out to the garden tonight, but both times he got distracted by one of his many friends. Maybe if she disappeared for a while, he’d get the idea. So she agreed to accompany Catherine, but spotting Quintin, she still waved at him so he could see where she was going.
The terrace was well lit with the pretty lanterns Amy had decorated it with for the ball, but that light didn’t extend far. The extensive garden did have old lampposts though, interspersed along the many paths. But a few had gone out, leaving long stretches of darkness between them. Catherine kept moving deeper into the garden.
“For a party crasher, he’s doing a good job of staying out of sight,” Jacqueline remarked impatiently.
“He must still be here,” Catherine whispered beside her. “I assured him I would return.”
The man suddenly stepped out of the shadows and smiled at Jacqueline. She drew in her breath. He was handsome, very handsome. Black-haired, dark-eyed, wearing a double-tiered greatcoat and an oddly shaped hat with feathers drooping off to the side of it. She guessed that Catherine didn’t want an opinion about him at all. She just wanted to show off that she’d found the most handsome man in Bridgeport!
But Catherine suddenly whispered, “Hurry!”
That broke through Jacqueline’s momentary surprise. With a frown, she turned toward Catherine, only to get a gag shoved in her mouth and a steely arm clamped over her chest. But she also saw Andrássy running toward them, his sword in hand. Thank goodness! Whatever Catherine was up to, her brother wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
“Let Jack go, Catherine!” Andrássy ordered furiously. “I warned you—”
Jacqueline’s eyes flared as someone else snuck up behind Andrássy and hit him over the head. The sword fell to the ground. So did Andrássy, and he didn’t move again. They’d killed him?! But it was the last thing she saw. Without a word from these men, she was bundled up and carried away.