Marry in Haste (The Vaughns #2)

Chapter 2

S taring after the pair, Joanna longed to follow, but the thought of such a desperate attempt to attach herself to them made her stomach sour. Glancing this way and that, she searched for any sign of where to go. The world seemed lost in chaos as people moved about the room, seeking out new companions and gossip, and Joanna waded through it, looking for any port in the storm.

Conversations abounded wherever she went, yet the thought of elbowing her way into one of them made Joanna’s insides burble and burn like the warning rumbles before a volcano erupted. She doubted anyone would take offense if she did, yet she couldn’t force her legs to pull her toward any of them.

Standing still only made her look like the fool she was, abandoned and alone, so she threaded her way through the crowd; moving gave the appearance of having somewhere to go, as opposed to staying put and gazing at the others like a starving man before a feast. Drawing as close as she dared to the other guests, Joanna prayed for someone to stop her or call out to her, but when she arrived at the far side of the room, she had no choice but to either stand still or go back the way she came. She turned on her heel and continued to weave through the crowd.

And then she spied her salvation.

Dr. Vaughn stood just inside the entrance, examining the gathering as he took stock of the party. Though many in the company considered him nothing above the ordinary, Joanna’s pulse quickened at the sight of him. True, his features weren’t rugged or strong, but there was a lightness to his brown eyes that invited one to smile alongside him. And though Joanna had never thought curly hair particularly attractive before, the manner in which it fell across his forehead was almost as flirty as the gentleman himself.

She longed to wave at him or rush to his side, but as much as others thought it easy to be bold with potential beaus, the thought of making her preference so obvious had her insides twisting until they were a knotted mess like the back of one of her embroidery samplers. It was one thing to show joy when one spied a gentleman, but one did not rush to his side or throw herself before him.

One must be calm and collected. One must employ subtlety. One must appear available but not eager, lest he be repulsed by the attention—something with which Joanna had far too much experience. Though people believed a dowry overcame a lady’s deficiencies, nearly a decade of attempting to win a man’s heart had proven otherwise for Miss Joanna Crosby.

Returning the way she came, she nudged her path to intercept Dr. Vaughn’s. An accidental meeting that drew them together ought to be simple enough to manufacture. Joanna matched her pace with his, timing it perfectly—until a gentleman stopped him. Slowing, she studied a nearby flower arrangement as though it had been the cause of her sudden shift. Spying on him from the corner of her eye, she waited until Dr. Vaughn continued, struggling to keep pace with him as others halted his progress again and again.

Be calm. Collected. Friendly. Warm and inviting, but not eager. It was a fine line to walk, but surely Joanna was mastering it.

*

Everyone longed to be admired, whether by the masses or a single person. Edward Vaughn couldn’t think of anyone who didn’t desire that sort of affection. And in most cases, he fully agreed with the sentiment. However, when Miss Crosby appeared before him, gazing at him with eyes that pleaded for him to look in her direction, Eddie’s collar grew tight, his neckcloth cinching around his windpipe.

“Why, Dr. Vaughn. How good to see you.” The lady spoke lightly as though their meeting was entirely by accident, but having seen her creeping up on him since the moment he’d arrived, Eddie knew the truth. And even if he hadn’t, her eyes always gave her away.

“It is good to see you, too,” he replied, holding fast to his smile as she gazed at him as though he’d hung the stars in the sky. “And how are your father and aunt?”

Miss Crosby’s brows quirked upward, her eyes warming as though that polite question meant the world to her. “They are well. And what of your family? Is Yorkshire still in the grip of winter?”

Eddie’s smile twisted into a rueful thing. “We are not so far north as that, Miss Crosby.”

Her breath stilled, a flash of red filling her cheeks, and Eddie felt like flogging himself. Having known her for some years now, he knew how readily she took comments to heart, and he’d only meant it as a tease. Something in her expression reminded him of a kicked puppy, eager to greet his master again yet hesitant that it might receive another punishment.

“You must forgive me,” he said, drawing a puzzled look from her. Giving her a crooked smile, he added, “I have been remiss in not telling you how fine you look tonight. The color suits you to perfection.”

Miss Crosby straightened, her cheeks pinking deeper, but a brightness filled her expressive eyes that testified that the sentiment driving her embarrassment was not unpleasant. Running her hands down the silk skirts, she started to speak; her words came out in a bit of a jumbled mess that was difficult to follow, though her pleasure was easy enough to comprehend.

“I mean it, Miss Crosby,” he said, and in reality, he did. False compliments were worthless so Eddie saw no need to give one. “Blue is your color.”

Unfortunately, there was little else to say as it was a ruffled monstrosity that eschewed clean lines for frills and lace, but the hue brought out the brightness in Miss Crosby’s eyes, enhancing the light color, and suited her blonde locks, which were a mixture of dark and light. Otherwise, Miss Crosby was an entirely unremarkable creature, having neither the features nor personality to draw attention. Not for good reasons, at any rate.

As simple as his compliment had been, Miss Crosby beamed as though it was the grandest thing anyone had ever said to her. Her smile wasn’t like the delicate ones other ladies preferred; it was broad and wide, filling the whole of her face. And just the slightest bit lopsided. However, there was so much of her heart and soul in it that Eddie couldn’t help grinning in return.

Demure she was not, but Miss Crosby had a shine of her own.

“You are too kind, Dr. Vaughn,” she said.

“And I would consider it a great kindness if you danced with me.” He hadn’t thought it possible, but Miss Crosby’s expression brightened further, looking for all the world as though he’d given her the greatest gift—though his offer was entirely unremarkable because he always stood up with her when their paths crossed.

Offering his hand, he guided her toward the dancers, and Miss Crosby tensed as they joined the mass.

“Hold fast to me, Miss Crosby,” he whispered. “I am bound to steer us into danger. I find I am all left feet with this new polka craze.”

The lady huffed at him, leveling a look of disbelief as they swept into the dance without missing a beat. “You’ve never demonstrated anything but the greatest skill on the dance floor.”

“That is only because I have a fine partner,” he said with a waggle of his brows.

Miss Crosby gave a hearty chuff, her eyes rolling heavenwards. “I know my skill, Dr. Vaughn, and I assure you I am not so great as all that.”

Little by little, he teased and twitted her—even flirting on more than one occasion—and with each turn about the floor, Miss Crosby’s muscles relaxed, her expression softening as her words flowed naturally. That over-eager quality faded, allowing the true Miss Crosby to surface.

The longing never quite left her gaze as she watched him, and as much as the adoration made his skin itch, Eddie’s heart warmed at the simple pleasure he’d given her. Despite being vastly different from his sister, there was a genuine quality to Miss Crosby that reminded him of Sadie, and if nothing else, it was a pleasure to make another wallflower happy. Besides, Miss Crosby was so easy to please that it never felt like a sacrifice.

A good deed done.

But when he deposited her with her aunt once more, Eddie didn’t spare the lady a second thought—until the following day when he rose from his bed and went about his daily routine.

In London, morning was not truly morning. With all the parties and events filling the evening hours, it was rare to find anyone who rose in time to have what those in the country considered a proper breakfast. And Eddie couldn’t say he preferred London’s way of doing things.

Parties were well and good, and he enjoyed the time he spent in the city, but his body never quite knew what it was about when he breakfasted at so late an hour. Striding into the dining room, Eddie moved over to the sideboard, served himself a plate from amongst the offerings, and took his place at the table beside his cousins.

His uncle and aunt sat at the head and foot, their children all jabbering on as their parents read their correspondence and newspapers. The girls delighted in the ball they’d attended the previous evening, recounting their dances and partners, whilst Floyd remained surprisingly mum at present. Or surprisingly if one didn’t know he’d lost a fair amount of money at the card tables the previous night. Which his father likely did.

As much as Eddie enjoyed the parties in the evenings and his days spent attending lectures and learning about the latest advancements in the medical profession, he couldn’t help counting down the days until he returned to Thornsby. His head was stuffed with new information, and his trunks were filled with ingredients and books his parents had requested, ready to be unleashed on the Yorkshire countryside.

“Good heavens!” gasped Aunt Christiana.

Eddie’s gaze darted to the lady as he finished buttering his toast and took a bite.

“What is it?” asked Uncle Franklin, glancing at his wife from over the top of his own newspaper.

“A wedding announcement,” she said, her complexion growing ashen as she stared at the print a moment longer before reading it aloud. “‘On the 2nd of April, Miss Joanna Crosby, daughter of Mr. Wilfred Crosby of Kinley Manor in Richmond, Surrey, and Dr. Edward Vaughn, son of Dr. Arthur Vaughn of Thornsby, Yorkshire, were united in marriage .’”