Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress (20 page)

Their work at the ruins was curtailed the next day. It was Thursday, and Mr. Rowntree had to hurry away to prepare for his Philosophical Society meeting in the evening. Thus, they did not finish chipping away the mortar around the great paving stone they had chosen, and it looked as if it would be another day, at least, before they could try to raise it. Sir Rollin, who had come again to watch, pronounced them abominably slow workers, earnings some indignant looks from Gerald and Erland. But no one else seemed unduly concerned. All were eager to see if anything lay below the pavement, but none were in such a hurry that another day mattered.

When they stopped work in the early afternoon, Gerald went off to the vicarage, murmuring that he had been invited for tea. Joanna watched him go with a smile. They never saw Gerald at the house these days, but she suspected that he spent much more time in the neighborhood than before.

“Is your brother hanging about the vicar's stately daughter?” asked Sir Rollin, who was standing behind her.

Joanna set her lips and said nothing.

“A perfect match in terms of character,” Denby added, watching Gerald ride away, “but hardly brilliant. Of course, the little Williston is doing quite well for herself. I suppose your brother will have the estate one day.”

Joanna's eyes flashed. “I think Gerald is doing very well indeed. Constance is a wonderful person.”

Startled, he looked down at her. Then he smiled sardonically. “Oh, to be sure. I was talking to myself.”

Joanna turned and walked away, almost running up against Jonathan Erland as she did so. He had obviously overheard this exchange and was looking at her curiously.

The rest of the party took their leaves soon after, Templeton and Carstairs heading back to Oxford and Denby riding to his sister's house. Joanna's father climbed into the gig, but Joanna, herself, waited for her mare to be brought from the stables. She had ridden over this morning particularly so that she might have a word with Jonathan Erland in private.

“Are you coming, Joanna?” asked Mr. Rowntree, picking up the reins.

“Yes, Papa, in a moment. They are just bringing my horse around.”

Rowntree peered about vaguely. “Ah, ah yes. You rode this morning. I had forgotten.”

“You go ahead, Papa. I shall catch up.”

He nodded and signaled the horse. The gig started slowly off down the lane.

Erland watched it go. “Will he keep it on the road?” he asked. “He does not seem to drive at all.”

Joanna smiled slightly. “No, but that horse will go home safely without. She always does.”

Erland met her eyes, smiling down at her in a way that somehow made Joanna's heart beat a little faster.

“Mr. Erland,” she blurted, “I wanted to speak to you about something. I stayed behind particularly.”

Looking gratified, the man replied, “Of course. Will you come in?”

“No, it will only take a moment. The thing is…” she hesitated, then rushed on. “I am worried about Frederick.”

“Frederick? What's amiss with him?”

“Nothing is amiss exactly. That is, well, he insists upon watching for the thief he believes he saw. He means to sneak out again and come here, I know he does. And I am worried that he may be hurt.”

“Ah.”

“He is just a boy, you see, though he thinks himself quite grown up. He does not always understand things.”

“Things?”

Joanna frowned. “If Frederick says he found poisoned meat, he did, you know. He does not invent facts, and he is a very acute observer. What it may mean, I can't say, but I am worried.”

Erland nodded. “Yes, I can see that you are.” He paused, then seemed to come to a decision. “I took his story more seriously than he may imagine. I will have a talk with Frederick.”

“Oh, good. Did he ever tell you about the disturbed place in the cellar?”

“What?”

“I thought not. He told me he found one, then he said he had not after all. I don't know the truth of the matter.”

Erland looked very interested. “I will definitely speak to him.”

“I would be so grateful.”

He smiled, a bit wryly. “That in itself is sufficient reason.”

“You are so kind. You really are. You were good to Selina at the party, and now you are helping me. I don't know how to thank you.”

He looked down at her. “Kind, yes.” He laughed a little. “Not very dashing, to be kind.”

“What?”

“Nothing, Miss Rowntree.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and questioning. She looked so lovely that his hand reached out involuntarily and took one of hers. “You are…” he began. But at that moment, a shrill voice from the road beyond called, “Joanna! Joanna!”

For a moment, Joanna could not pull her eyes from Erland's; then she blinked and turned toward the sound. He dropped her hand and turned also.

Selina Grant was standing up in her mother's barouche, waving a parasol and calling Joanna again. She was alone in the carriage, with only the old coachman on the box, and she was taking advantage of her rare freedom to screech as loud as she pleased. “Joanna!”

“It is Selina,” said Joanna unnecessarily.

“It is indeed. You had best go to her before she injures her throat.”

Joanna looked up at him sharply, but his smile was without malice. “Yes,” she replied, “but first, I must thank you again.”

“Not at all. I like Frederick.”

“You
are
kind.” Joanna went over to her mare, and Erland threw her up. Before she rode away, she looked down at him once more. “I think kindness is one of the most important things there is,” she added impulsively. “I never realized it before, but it is true.” And with that she trotted off, leaving Erland watching her with a bemused expression.

“Oh, Joanna,” exclaimed Selina, when she had come closer to the carriage. “How lucky that I saw you. I was coming back from your house, you know. I called there, but you were out. You are always out lately, always at the ruins with your father. I have hardly seen you this week.” She sounded petulantly reproachful, and Joanna sighed a little.

“I am sorry, Selina. You know I am helping Papa.”

“Yes, but why? I can't conceive of anything more boring.”

“It isn't, you know. I thought I might tire of it, but I have not.”

Selina shrugged. “Are you going home now? I shall come with you. Tie your horse onto the carriage and get in with me, so that we can talk.”

Slowly, Joanna obeyed. She couldn't help wishing that Selina had not come along at this particular moment.

Selina enlivened the drive back with a constant stream of chatter—chiefly neighborhood gossip. Joanna responded absently, but the other girl did not require more, and she climbed down happily at the Rowntree's front door. “Now we shall have a comfortable coze in the garden, just as we used to,” she said.

They went to sit in the arbor, and as soon as they sat down, Selina leaned forward, her pale eyes glimmering. “Now I can tell you,” she whispered. “I did not want to do so in the carriage, where John could hear.”

“Tell me what?”

Selina licked her lower lip. “Do you know what
she
has done now?” she asked excitedly.

“Who?”

“Adrienne Finley. Do you know what she has done?”

Joanna shook her head.

Selina sat back with a triumphant expression. “She has
sold
Lucy!”

The other girl's eyes widened. “Peter's prize hound?”

Selina nodded, very pleased with the effect of her news.

“But Peter always hunts with her; he says she is the best in his pack. Why, he would not even let anyone else feed her.”

“I know, and he's furious over it. He is trying to get her back, but they say that the man who bought her does not wish to give her up.” She sniffed. “I do not see why not. I always thought her a disagreeable dog, snuffling around one's ankles so. I never understood why she was allowed in the house. But there is a great to-do over it. I heard that Peter shouted at her, really shouted,” she repeated with relish.

“Oh dear.”

“Of course, it serves her right, odious managing woman.”

“Selina, you must not say such things.”

“But it's true!”

“Poor Peter. He really loved that dog, I think. And he hates rows.”

Selina shrugged. “Well, he made one this time, they say.”

“Where do you hear these things, Selina? I declare you always know everything.”

“The Finleys' second housemaid…”

“Is a friend of your housekeeper. I should have known.”

Selina shrugged again, and there was a pause as Joanna considered Peter's melancholy state. It really was too bad.

As they sat quietly, they heard the back garden gate open and voices approach. “Who can that be?” murmured Selina. She leaned forward and peered around the edge of the arbor. “Why it is Gerald,” she continued, in a surprised tone, “and Constance Williston with him. How strange.”

At this, Joanna could not resist leaning forward to look also. As she watched, Gerald took Constance's hand and put it to his lips. Constance blushed delightfully.

Selina gasped. “Why I never!”

The couple walked up the path toward them; if they were going to the house, they would pass right by the arbor.

“I have half a mind to…” began Selina indignantly. But Joanna motioned her to be silent. Though it was not quite proper, she wanted to hear what Gerald and Constance said.

“Let us go to Mother first,” Gerald was saying. “She will be very happy. Father may not even understand our news; he will be so engrossed in something or other. But if Mother comes with us to tell him, he will listen.”

“Oh, I hope they will be pleased,” murmured Constance.

At this, Gerald stopped. He and Constance stood directly beside the arbor, hardly two feet from where Joanna and Selina sat.

“Pleased?” he exclaimed. “They will be delighted. How could they not?”

“Well, but Gerald, I have no great portion, and I am not…”

“You are perfect. You are exactly the wife for me, and my parents are well aware of it, I assure you.” Gerald chuckled. “In fact, I shall be very much surprised if my mother does not ask me why I delayed so long over the business.”

“You think she suspected?”

“I am sure of it. Come, let us go see.”

They walked on, disappearing around a corner of the path. There was a moment's silence.

“Well!” Selina said then. She seemed nearly speechless with surprise and outrage. “Well!”

Joanna was smiling broadly, her eyes just slightly damp. “Isn't it wonderful?”

The other girl swung round to stare at her. “Wonderful?” she tittered. “Well, I suppose you must say so, at least. But I should not like having that great gawking bluestocking in
my
family.”

Joanna sat up very straight, her eyes snapping with anger. “You are never to speak of her in that way to me, Selina. Constance is a wonderful person. I like her and respect her, and I am very, very glad that she is to be my sister. Do you understand?”

Selina bridled, then quailed before the look in Joanna's eyes. “Y-yes, yes, of course.”

“And if you should
ever
be so mean-spirited as to talk gossip about her, I shall never speak to you again!”

“No, no, I wouldn't. I am sorry, Joanna.” Selina, appalled by Joanna's unusual rage, hurried to reassure her friend. “Now that she is to be one of your family, I never would, you know that.”

Mollified, Joanna nodded. “You must try to like Constance, Selina. She is really very charming.”

Looking as if she thought this unlikely, the other girl agreed. Joanna rose. “I must go in and tell them how glad I am. Will you come?”

“No. No, I think not. I must go. And I do not wish to intrude on a family occasion.” Her tone suggested that she was offended, but Joanna paid no heed. She was too excited.

The two girls hurried up the path to the house. Joanna fetched Selina's bonnet and said good-bye, then went in search of the others. They were not in the drawing room, or the morning room, but she finally thought to look in her father's study, and she heard voices there as she approached the door.

“Married?” her father was saying, sounding mystified.

“Yes, dear,” responded Mrs. Rowntree, “Gerald and Constance. Isn't it wonderful?”

There was a pause, then her husband murmured, “But when were they married? I have no recollection…”

Gerald laughed. “No, Papa, we are going to be married. We came to tell you.”

“Oh, going to be? Well, well. Very good thing, too. It's time you married. Splendid.”

“Well, Papa, I had to wait until I found the perfect girl for me.”

“Yes, yes, to be sure. Very right of you. Miss Williston.”

Joanna peeked around the door to see her father looking' closely at Constance.

“The Vicar's daughter, yes, of course. Very intelligent girl.
I
remember.”

Gerald laughed again. “The highest compliment, Constance. You are received with honors.”

Mrs. Rowntree laughed too, as her husband looked bewildered.

Joanna burst into the room. “Oh, I am so glad,” she exclaimed. “I am so happy.”

They all turned toward her. “What, you have heard already?” asked Gerald jokingly. “The gossips are faster than I imagined.”

“I was in the garden. You passed by me.”

“Ah.”

“I am so glad,” repeated Joanna. She went to hug Constance and, after a tiny hesitation, Gerald. “How happy you will be.”

Gerald grinned. “We think so, too.”

“When will you be married?”

“That is up to Constance.”

The other girl blushed a little, but said, “In October, I think. Mama says it will take time to make preparations. And I want you to stand up with me, Joanna.”