John and Luke talked about poetry for the next half hour. It was certainly not what Luke had expected. He wasn’t even sure he actually enjoyed poetry, not that he could admit that to John after he had expressed his hidden affection for it. But Luke definitely did not feel childish as they rowed around the lake, discussing iambic pentameter and poetic syntax. It was much different than their usual afternoons.
We are growing up,Luke realized. While that had been his original intent, it now seemed much too boring. Soon, they would both be true, dull, English gentlemen, talking about work and horse races, and boring adult things. He wasn’t quite ready to give up his childhood.
“All right, that is enough of that!” Luke insisted, shaking his curl-covered head. “Let’s play pirates!”
Mother stood in the ballroom with a short, round man. He had a dark curly mustache, and legs that seemed much too small to support his large belly. “Lady Clara,” she addressed her daughter formally, “allow me to introduce you to Monsieur Andre Dupont, your dance master.”
Clara curtsied. “Bonjour, Monsieur Dupont.”
“Ahh,” he directed his comment to Lady Merritt, “A dignified young lady. Yes, I shall teach her to dance, and then surely, this one shall be a duchess.” He moved his arms in an unusually large fashion as he spoke. It was highly distracting, though not nearly as much as his rich French accent.
Mother dipped her blonde head in gratitude. “Yes, we do believe young Clara will be a lady of rank someday.” She smiled affectionately at her daughter. “But she still has much to learn, including dancing, so let’s begin.”
Monsieur Dupont pulled out a pocket violin and plucked a few notes. “Oui. Yes. We shall start with rhythmic exercises.” And for the next quarter hour Clara practiced walking in time to the music. She felt she was doing well, (how hard could walking be?) but the dance master had many, many critiques.
After another fifteen minutes, Papa entered the ballroom. “How is she doing?” he asked Mother, who stood off to the side.
“Very well,” she whispered back, “but I have told Monsieur Dupont to be quite particular. Dancing is possibly the key component to her advantageous match.”
“Are you speaking from experience, Violet?” he asked her flirtatiously, placing a loving hand at the small of her back.
Mother looked up at him through her lashes. “Well, it was my dancing that drew you to me, was it not?”
Papa bent down and tucked one of her loose curls behind her ear, his hand lingering loving around her cheek. “You dance? Why, I hadn’t the slightest idea.” His dark eyes were full of mirth.
Mother laughed. “Oh, come here, Matthew,” she playfully relented, pulling him out into the middle of the floor.
The short pluck of the violin was truly not suitable for a full dance, but that did not stop the married couple. Papa and Mother whirled and twirled around the ballroom, and as Clara watched, she could almost picture them young, in love,and dressed in their finery. Their affection for each other played visibly across each of their faces.
I want that,she looked longingly.I want to dance around the ballroom with someone I love. They would look at me tenderly and-
“Lady Clara!” the instructor scolded, “Your eyes must remain straight ahead.” She fixed her gaze on the patterned, gold wallpaper and angrily wondered when she would actually begin dancing. “Lighten your feet!” Monsieur Dupont berated.
Unfortunately, keeping her feet from stomping when she was frustrated turned out to be quite difficult.What was the point of this?She had been walking for years! This whole lesson was an utter waste of time.
Clara heard a giggle from the other side of the room and risked a quick peek. Her parents had stopped dancing, and Papa whispered something in Mother’s ear, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, her hands rested on his chest. Then, he kissed her, short and sweet.
“Matt,” she gave him a playful swat, “not in front of Monsieur Dupont!”
“He is French, this will not faze him in the slightest.” He bent down and kissed her again, much longer this time.
While most children would have been uncomfortable seeing their parents behave in such a manner, Clara only felt a strong desire to have such a relationship.I want someone to kiss me in the middle of the ballroom.
“Lady Clara!” the dance master rebuked.
“I know,” she sighed in frustration, “eyes forward.”
“I should get back to work.” Papa groaned. “Join me for tea later?” Mother promised to stop by the study, and Father moved to the exit, pausing in the doorway. “And for the record,” he called back to her, “it wasn’t the dancing.”
Chapter 3
Mother’s News
-six years later-
1804
Luke sighed heavily as the carriage rolled onto the cobblestone of Maxwell Manor. His only consolation was that he would not be staying long. He had just finished another wonderful summer at Rosecrest. As always, he had learned a great deal. In fact, this season, he and John had taken on some of the landowner duties themselves: attending meetings, visiting tenants, and even helping ease a neighborhood dispute. While the true applications of such lessons were likely a far way off for John, Luke would turn twenty-one in three short years, at which time, he could no longer rely on another to tend his barony.And then I will have to live here,he grumbled silently, looking up at his estate.
