Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

L ondon, May 1814

On the evening that the Bengroves had been invited to dine, Jo donned a new evening gown, its primrose yellow subtly trimmed but well cut to show off her figure. Martha had managed to tame her curls into a bandeau, and she wore a simple string of pearls with matching eardrops.

A knot of excitement and nervousness stirred in her stomach as she inspected her appearance in the mirror. Alfred had taken longer to return to England than anticipated, arriving only the previous day. A brief note from Lady Bengrove had conveyed his regrets for not being able to call before the dinner engagement. Was she looking pretty enough for their first meeting? Had his memory of her changed with time, thinking her more attractive than she was?

Jo was descending the stairs when the Bengroves arrived, and she paused to watch the party entering. Lady Bengrove and Catherine came first, followed by their husbands. Then Alfred appeared, in a dark jacket and pale breeches like the other two men.

Even seen from above, it was the face she remembered—square-jawed, with his blond hair styled in the windswept manner. His face was not as tanned as she recalled it, but when they first met he had just returned from a Spanish summer. The sight of him didn't induce that warm, shivery feeling she recalled—and surely it should have?

Papa was already greeting their guests, bowing as he was introduced to Alfred. Jo took a deep breath and continued down the stairs. Lady Bengrove was the first to notice her approach, running assessing eyes down her figure before poking her younger son with her fan. Alfred seemed to square his shoulders before turning to face her, then a dazzling smile curved his lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

That was the smile that had charmed her two years ago. She began to relax.

"Joanna!" He stepped forward eagerly and mounted several steps to meet her before she reached the bottom. She held a hand out; he kissed the back of it, then tucked it under his arm and led her back to the others. "Joanna, it is so good to see you again!"

"And you, Captain." She felt her smile must match his own, and his spoken words held a sincerity that his written ones had not. Perhaps he really was just a poor letter-writer.

Papa ushered the Bengroves into the parlour. The Yelden party had already arrived, and George was interrogating Lieutenant Moorven about his experiences at sea in one corner.

"Have you met my wife?" Papa asked, leading them to where Mama sat.

"I believe we met, many years ago." Lady Bengrove inclined her head the tiniest amount. "Lady Frances."

Mama's face flushed, but she did not deny her rank. "Lady Bengrove. Lord Bengrove. I'm so pleased you could accept our invitation. And you, Captain Bengrove. I am happy to see you returned to us safely."

Alfred bent over Mama's hand. "It is good to be back. To see Joanna again."

"You know Lord and Lady Yelden, of course," Papa said, moving them on. "And their son George and daughter Lydia."

Alfred stiffened beside Jo as George made his bow, and he muttered something under his breath. Puzzled at the reaction to her cousin, Jo glanced at his face to find that he wasn't looking at George at all, but at Lieutenant Moorven, standing behind the Yeldens.

"And may I introduce Lieutenant Moorven, of the Royal Navy," Papa went on. "He has recently returned from Verdun, and I thought Captain Bengrove would enjoy having someone to talk to with common experiences. But perhaps you already know each other?" he added, disingenuously.

"We have met," Lieutenant Moorven said. "Good evening, Bengrove," he added pleasantly. "I trust you were not too long delayed in Verdun?"

Alfred's expression was decidedly less friendly than the lieutenant's. "Not too long, no. A minor misunderstanding, that was all."

"Good, good." The lieutenant turned to Jo and greeted her warmly—far more warmly than was warranted by the few minutes of their previous acquaintance. Jo hesitated, but there was a friendly twinkle in his eye, so she said it was a pleasure to see him again.

"Would you like a drink, Joanna?" Alfred said hastily, and took a glass from the tray a footman had been about to offer. He handed it to her, then guided her towards the sofa. He sat down, half-turned to face her. "I have missed you, Joanna. It seems… it has been a long time!"

"Indeed it has," Jo said. "Are you well? It took you some time to get home, did it not?"

"There were… complications," Alfred said, his gaze flicking briefly sideways, to where Lieutenant Moorven stood talking to George. Then he leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes. "We cannot speak freely in company. Would you care for a drive in the park tomorrow?"

"Thank you, Captain. I would love to." His intent gaze was doing odd things to her breathing.

He reached for her hand and gave it a brief squeeze. "You must call me Alfred, please. We are on less formal terms, are we not?"

"Alfred," Jo repeated, with a happy smile. "My family call me Jo."

"Jo," he said, warmly. "Papa tells me you wish us to know each other better before we wed. Do not keep me waiting too long, will you? After so long apart, a further delay…" He sighed.

"Lady Yelden has invited—" Jo broke off as Chivenor opened the parlour door and announced that dinner was ready.

"Later," Alfred said in a low, intimate voice, then stood. He gave her that smile once more, and offered his arm.

As the senior lady present, Lady Bengrove had to accept her host's escort to the dining room, although she looked as if she were smelling something bad. Jo found herself seated between Alfred and Lieutenant Moorven. The bustle of filling plates seemed to have dried up Alfred's conversation. He paid a few compliments to her and to the food, but then confined himself to enquiring whether he could serve her some of this chicken, or those vegetables, or summoning a footman to fill her glass, while glancing at the lieutenant several times. The rather awkward silence around her was broken when George, sitting opposite, asked Lieutenant Moorven how he'd been captured.

"Not across the table, George," his mother said quietly, but Papa spoke up from the head of the table.

"Nonsense, Sarah, this is a family dinner; no need for such formality!"

Lady Bengrove gave an audible sniff at this, but support came from an unexpected quarter.

"No, indeed," Lieutenant Moorven said. "In my own family, dinners such as this are very informal. I am happy to be included here." He raised his glass to Mr Stretton.

"And who are your family?" Lady Bengrove enquired, looking down her nose.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Er, the lieutenant is actually Lord Moorven, Mama. Heir to the Earl of Claverden. He chooses not to use his title while he is in the Navy."

Jo was surprised, as were the Yeldens, but stunned was the only word to describe the expression on Lady Bengrove's face. Papa was trying to hide his amusement—he must have guessed something like this would happen .

"Oh, well, in that case…" Lady Bengrove said, when she recovered the power of speech.

"In that case, let us by all means be informal," Lord Bengrove finished for her heartily, from the opposite end of the table.

"Nevertheless," Moorven put in, "I think descriptions of naval engagements are not for the dinner table." He gave a friendly smile to George, who flushed slightly and subsided.

"While we are gathered here," Papa spoke up, "I have a proposal for you all. As you know, Captain Bengrove and my daughter met two summers ago, only a few weeks before the captain was captured. A long absence after such a short acquaintance is not, I think, a suitable basis for an immediate marriage. Lord and Lady Yelden are holding a house party in July, to which they have kindly invited you all. That will provide an excellent opportunity for them to spend more time together. I hope you will all be able to attend, including you, Lieutenant." He looked at Lieutenant Moorven.

There were various murmurs of agreement, and Mr Bengrove thanked him.

"Now, Sarah," Papa went on. "You must invite that other friend of Captain Bengrove's, as well. The one who wrote the letters for him when he first arrived in Verdun. What was the name?" He stared into space for a moment, and Jo suddenly paid a lot more attention. Papa had not forgotten the name.

"Delafield," said Lieutenant Moorven. Jo turned her gaze on him. His lips were slightly compressed, as if he was hiding amusement.

"Ah, yes. Captain Delafield."

"He's not—" Alfred started to say, but Papa carried on talking.

"He must be a very good friend of yours, Bengrove. Jo said how lovely those first letters were; you wouldn't have dictated that kind of thing to anyone who wasn't a good friend, I'm sure."

Alfred stared at him, speechless.

"Is he another who doesn't use his title?" Lady Bengrove asked.

"No, Mama." Alfred spoke through tight lips. "I believe Delafield's family are farmers."

Aunt Sarah frowned, but when Lady Bengrove sniffed, her expression changed to amusement. "Any friends of Captain Bengrove will be welcome at Yelden Court," she confirmed.

Alfred's knuckles tightened on the stem of his wine glass; Jo dropped her gaze to hide her puzzlement. Why would the invitation anger him? She knew he didn't like Captain Delafield, but that reaction seemed excessive.

"What are your plans for the future, Captain?" Papa asked, breaking the awkward silence. "Do you intend to stay in the cavalry?"

"I won't need… I mean, I have not yet decided. I thought to…"

"Not good for a wife if a fellow is away for long periods," Mr Bengrove said.

"Ah, buy an estate and settle down, eh?" Papa said. "Excellent."

Alfred opened his mouth, and closed it again. Jo frowned at her father; what was he doing? He seemed to be going out of his way to make his guests feel uncomfortable—although why that supposition should do so, she had no idea. When she and Papa visited Bengrove Hall, Lady Bengrove had mentioned that Jo would have her own establishment. Mama appeared to be just as bewildered at the undercurrents.

"That's a prettily detailed gown you wear, Lady Yelden," Lady Bengrove said into the silence. "Who is your modiste?"

Jo took little part in the conversation after that, as it limped along from fashion to theatre visits, then the plans for celebrating the peace. That was a safer topic, and everyone stuck to it. Finally Aunt Sarah, after a close look at Mama's pale face, rose and led the ladies to the parlour for tea.

"Shall I accompany you upstairs, Mama?" Jo asked.

"Very well, dear, but you must rejoin the guests afterwards." In her room, Mama sank into a chair and shook her head. "I don't know what your father was doing, Jo. It felt as though he were deliberately antagonising your captain. I do hope he's not going to change his mind."

Jo wasn't sure whether she meant Alfred or Papa. "I'm sure he won't, Mama. You'll feel better about it when you are not so tired. "

"Go to the parlour, Jo. Halsey will be here in a moment to help me."

Jo bent to kiss Mama's check, and went back downstairs. In the parlour, Lydia and Catherine Bengrove sat talking in one corner, and Lady Bengrove was next to Aunt Sarah. Jo joined the older ladies; she would have to encounter Lady Bengrove often in the future, so she should try to get on better terms with her.

"Well, Sarah," Lady Bengrove was saying. "It appears that you allow your brother-in-law to dictate who you invite to your parties."

Aunt Sarah's eyes narrowed slightly. "I accept suggestions for my guest list, yes, Gabriella. Is there something wrong with inviting your son's friends from Verdun?"

"He was forced to associate with such persons in the army; he has no need to do so now."

"Such persons?" Aunt Sarah looked annoyed now, which was unusual for her. "If your son does not wish to associate with my guests, he is free to decline the invitation."

Alfred not come? "Aunt?—"

Lady Bengrove spoke before Jo could finish her protest. "Really, Sarah, do not take on so. I meant nothing of the sort. It's just that you do not know this captain that Stretton was talking about."

"I didn't know your son when George invited him to Yelden two years ago, but I welcomed him. It might have been better had I not done so. You would not then be put into the position of having to associate with… with farmers and families like my sister's."

"Aunt!" Jo protested, loudly enough to attract the attention of Lydia and Catherine. What might have happened next, she didn't know, for the gentlemen walked in.

Lady Bengrove stood. "Ah, Bengrove. I trust you recall we are promised to the Cholmondeleys this evening. Stretton, thank you for your hospitality. It has been most enjoyable."

Her tone belied her words, but Papa seemed more amused than offended. "A pleasure, my lady." Behind him, the other men stood silently, uneasy in the tense atmosphere.

Mr Bengrove and Catherine approached; their excuse was the same, but Catherine's thanks sounded more sincere. Alfred, too, but he turned to Jo afterwards and took her hand. "I will call for you at two. The time will pass slowly until then." He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, and turned for a last smile as he left the room behind his parents. She began to feel more confident that all would be well between them.

"That was a sudden end," Papa remarked, bringing Jo back to the present.

"I'm afraid it was my fault," Aunt Sarah admitted. "Jo, I do hope you don't need to have much to do with that woman once you're wed. I think we had better depart, too, Nathaniel. After that encounter I'm in no mood for conversation. Yelden?"

Lord Yelden nodded. "As you wish, my dear."

Jo thought, not for the first time, that all her uncle wanted was to live his life in peace.

"Sarah, I do appreciate your help with all of this, you know," Papa said. "As does Frances."

"Yes, well. Family is family."

Lieutenant Moorven took his leave at the same time. When the front door closed behind them all, Papa turned to Jo. "What happened?"

"Lady Bengrove took exception to a ‘farmer' attending the same house party as her exalted self," Jo said. "Aunt Sarah spoke her mind." Which might not have been polite, but Jo couldn't blame her for it. She was nearly as cross with Papa as with Lady Bengrove, however; he had needled Alfred during dinner, even though she didn't know why Alfred should have taken exception to his words. And it seemed very odd that he had asked Aunt Sarah to invite two men to her house party whom he hardly knew.

"How did you get along with Alfred, Jo?"

"We started well, but there wasn't much time for conversation." Thanks to Papa; she tried to keep her annoyance from showing. "He is calling tomorrow afternoon to take me for a drive."

"That's good."

With all the guests gone, Jo retired to her bedroom, feeling sadly flat. Although meeting Alfred had rekindled the feelings she remembered, she hadn't had much time to talk to him, and their conversation had felt a little awkward. He had talked more freely at Yelden Court—with her and Mama, and with others when Aunt Sarah had invited the squire and his family to dinner. But then his parents could put a damper on any conversation.

Could they use the Dower House at Bengrove Hall until they bought somewhere of their own? She must talk to Alfred about that.