Chapter Eleven #3
Benedict thought of the streets he’d seen with Jane, the shops, the crowds.
He imagined her shooting her arrow across the velvety green lawn like Diana, the fluid grace of her small movement as she’d drawn the arrow from her quiver, the breeze stirring her hair, pinned perfectly under her hat but rebellious, with the soft curls at her temples.
He thought of the arrow flying fast, silent, certain, striking the centre of the target with a satisfying thud, a perfect shot; he remembered the smiling glance she’d given him.
He needed her confidence and humour now.
‘It’s all most charming,’ he said. ‘I’m quite fortunate to see it. The sea, the breezes, the hospitality I’ve been met with…’
Her smile widened. ‘It is most pleasant to escape the heat of the city for a bit of fresh air, yes? I understand you are fond of walking our cliff paths. Such a wondrous view of the sea; I am always amazed by it all. My dear husband enjoys his days on his yacht, the Nourmahal.’
‘Hmm’ was all Benedict could think to say. His aunt had whispered about Willie Astor’s time aboard his yacht, the chorus girls and crates of champagne. He ducked his head to sip his tea.
‘I am such a bad sailor, or I should love to join him,’ Mrs Astor said with a sigh. ‘The closest I come is a stroll along the edge of my garden! There is a lovely scene there.’
‘I have never seen sea views to equal the cliff walks here.’
‘Yes. Newport does offer very beautiful views.’ She nodded at a cluster of young ladies strolling past, and gave them an indulgent nod. They giggled and blushed, whispering together as they passed Benedict. ‘I hope you have enjoyed them all.’
That image of Jane and her bow flashed through his mind again, that instant of grace and power against the azure sky. ‘It’s all been most instructive, Mrs Astor, yes.’
‘I flatter myself our New York society has young ladies who can equal any in Europe—well brought-up, graceful, stylish. I’ve known most of them since they were infants!
If my own eldest was not already betrothed…
’ She sighed, and gestured to Regina Van Joort, leader of the strolling group of girls.
She tilted her head as if she sensed she was being spoken of, a quiet smile on her lips.
‘Her mother is on the Opera Guild with me; they are a fine old family.’
‘Most commendable,’ was all he could think to say. He felt quite tongue-tied with Mrs Astor, her polite platitudes and grey eyes skilfully hiding every thought. He wished Jane was there to help him slip through the tall windows and run away to the ocean.
Then he saw her. She stood across the room, next to the escape hatch of one of those windows, talking to her sister-in-law and a man he didn’t know, someone tall and elegant in a well-cut suit.
He seemed most attentive to Jane, though, looking at her intently.
Benedict felt a flash of something most unwelcome: jealousy.
He’d thought he’d beaten all of that out at the club.
At last he was released from the Astor dais when someone else claimed his hostess’s attention, and he hurried towards Jane.
Or rather, he tried to hurry. He was stopped several times by people wanting to greet him, invite him to ‘small’ gatherings like this one, and he had to smile, nod and direct invitations to his aunt.
At last, he found her near the piano, and she flashed him a smile full of sympathy.
And, just as he’d thought, everything suddenly felt set right again.
‘I see you have received the royal treatment,’ she said with a grimace. A passing footman held a tray of champagne and she snatched up two glasses. ‘How was your conversation with Mrs Astor? Did she help with your quest of understanding American courtship?’
He laughed, glad at least someone in that drawing room could tease him. That he could see that sparkle in her eyes, hear her rich laughter. He wondered if she knew what she’d done—that she’d drawn a breath of real air into the staleness of his carefully ordered life.
‘Indeed she was most helpful,’ he said. ‘Or at least, she asked if I had seen all the beautiful views here in Newport. But I still need your most invaluable advice.’
‘Of course. I am here to help.’
‘She pointed out Miss Van Joort in particular.’
Jane’s lashes flickered down to hide her expression as she sipped her wine. ‘Well, the Van Joorts are certainly an old family. And Regina is considered very lovely.’
Benedict felt a flash of hope that the jealousy he’d felt a moment ago, when he’d seen Jane talking to the man in the fine suit, was not entirely only on his side. ‘A lovely lady of a fine family. Indeed. I think I saw her at the archery contest…’
‘You must have. She usually wins.’
‘But not this time.’
Jane laughed. ‘No. Not this time.’
‘But is she one I could woo with carnations?’
‘Probably. And lots of talk about your family’s experience at the Battle of Hastings and such. She would surely be impressed with that.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a great deal of fun.’
She laughed louder, and he felt his heart warm at that bright, mischievous sound. It filled the whole room, as if someone had opened a window on a spring day and let in air that hadn’t been breathed in generations. It crept into hollows he hadn’t even known were there.
‘Courtship isn’t supposed to be fun, not in Newport,’ she said.
He sighed. ‘It never is.’ Unless he was with her. Then everything was fun indeed.