The Only Gold (20 page)

“Nonsense. What harm is there? We are like brother and sister.” She bade him stand still, then began to straighten his tie. “Monsieur Hylliard, he will attend?”

“He will.”

Liliane’s bright gaze swept his face. “He is the ogre not so much?”

“Oh, he’s far worse.”

She laughed. “He likes you, I think.”

“He likes anyone he believes he can talk into following his lead.”

“But he has not bewitched you.”

“Decidedly not.”

“Good.” She helped him with his overcoat. “You will remember strategy, yes?”

He fumbled with the gloves. “Strategy?”

“
Oui
. How do you think Bonaparte won at Waterloo?”

Jonah blinked. “He didn’t—”

Liliane raised a hand. “We will not speak of it. Now, you must allow introductions tonight. An introduction is not a promise,
mon chaton
. And you must dance with Monsieur Grandborough’s daughter. You would not have Monsieur Hylliard thought the finer gentleman, would you?” Her mouth twisted downward. “And look, you have gone so pale. I think
you
may need the salts.”

“I only need my hat… if I can just find….”

Liliane found it first, under the clothes he’d left crumpled on the bed. She produced a small silver flask from some hidden pocket in her skirts and slipped it into his hand. “Just in case.” She kissed his cheek. “Now go, or you will miss the first waltz.”

It would have suited him to appear in time for supper and beg off the dancing altogether. On Lexington, he gave up the comfort of the cab and took some strength in the bracing air as he walked to the square. Lamplight eased the darkness and made a ghostly garden of the bare elms behind the park’s iron gates. From somewhere above came the strains of a waltz, and he hoped he’d arrived too late to be included on anyone’s dance card. He stood for several minutes on the stoop, in the glow of light pouring from second-story windows, and tried to remember Liliane’s instructions and his own determination to win back Mr. Grandborough’s approval. He could not imagine it was contingent on the acquisition of wife and children. After all, Reid Hylliard was unmarried too.

Unable to shake his trepidation, Jonah rang the bell and was seized upon by servants who efficiently divested him of coat and hat, and ushered him upstairs to the ballroom. In the shelter of the heavy drape framing the doorway, he surveyed the crowd—nearly two hundred in number, he surmised: bankers, clerks, directors, clients of the bank and their wives, Grandborough relations, and others he’d met when he first attended the ball years before.

He was in the midst of trying to recall names when Alice whirled past, in Reid’s arms. His train of thought lost, Jonah stared after them. Alice was laughing at whatever tale Reid related as they floated around the floor. Whether he meant to pursue her in earnest or merely flirt, he clearly enjoyed her company. His lips barely curved; most of his smile stayed in his eyes. Behind their serene surface that shrewd light would be lurking, as if he possessed the power to divine more about a soul than he had a right to know. Jonah wondered if it unsettled Alice.

“Jonah?”

Startled, he self-consciously marshaled his expression into one of polite greeting as Margaret and Simon reached his side. In her satin gown, dove-gray, with the soft gleam of opals at her ears and throat, Margaret looked prettier than most of the other women in their brighter plumage. She had two glasses of champagne and offered him one. “My dear, why so glum?”

“He had to leave the bank early,” Simon said with a laugh.

Margaret shook her head. “You’re looking for Alice—”

“She’s dancing with Mr. Hylliard,” Jonah said. “He does appear to be capable of good manners when the mood strikes.”

Margaret smiled, seeming relieved. He supposed she thought it would upset him, Reid’s flirtation with Alice. He wondered whether he should pretend it did. He was spared the decision as Reid approached, escorting Alice from the floor. Reid greeted Margaret and Simon, then acknowledged Jonah’s presence, assessing and amused. “Jonah.”

Jonah smiled with inscrutable cordiality. “Reid.”

Simon choked on the champagne, and even Margaret looked startled. Alice, her gloved hand still tucked under Reid’s elbow, smiled at Jonah. “I’m so glad you were able to come. It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” She fanned herself with her dance card.

“Warm for February,” Jonah said, with a glance sidelong at Reid.

“Just why it’s lovely, I’d say,” Simon remarked.

Alice
laughed and fanned herself more vigorously. “It’s warm in here, certainly. Won’t you have some champagne?”

Reid cleared his throat and, catching Jonah’s eye, nodded at Alice. Realization struck and Jonah’s stomach dropped. By some miracle, his tongue still worked. “I think your card must be filled, but if you’ve a dance unclaimed, would you do me the honor?”

Alice
brightened. “I did save you a dance. The next waltz.”

“That is very kind of you.” It might well be warm for July. Jonah looked longingly toward the terrace doors, opened to the night. Margaret, apparently reading his thoughts, handed him the glass of champagne. The music started again, and Jonah gulped down the champagne, only to realize the orchestra wasn’t playing a waltz.

“There’s our quadrille, Miss Grandborough.” Simon offered Alice his arm, and the two were swiftly lost in the crowd. Reid asked Margaret to dance, and she looked enormously amused.

“I think they are adequately supplied for the quadrille. If you care to waltz a little later, my dear, you may find me at the punch bowl.”

She left, and Reid laughed softly. “Foregoing propriety?” he asked.

Jonah realized what he meant. “We’re not at the bank.”

“No.”

Reid’s gaze stayed on him, and Jonah returned the stare warily. “I’m not misbuttoned.”

“You’re presentable.”

“For a towheaded scarecrow.”

Reid grinned then. “You forgot bespectacled,” he said, and pushed Jonah’s glasses up the bridge of his nose. Startled, Jonah let only exasperation show as he resettled his glasses. Reid was watching him again, and despite the dazzle of light from above, his eyes seemed darker, the brown eclipsing the gold. The look in them washed over Jonah with a heat akin to standing too near a hearth fire.

All safe paths of conversation lost, Jonah abandoned the effort and escaped to the relative shelter of the supper table. A second glass of champagne allowed him to consider whether some contrary attraction of his own had him imagining Reid saw him in the same light. If Reid was similarly inclined, he hadn’t learned to keep his wrongheaded desires in check. Jonah did not picture him as the sort to resist temptation, and his shameless flirting as the evening progressed only bolstered his popularity. Each time Jonah looked for him, he was whirling yet another pretty girl around the floor.

A third glass of champagne strengthened Jonah for his waltz with Alice, after which Reid whisked her away again. Unable to discount the growing conviction Reid was dancing with her merely to provoke him, Jonah joined the gentlemen in the library. He declined a cigar but took a brandy and wandered to the window to watch couples promenading on the terrace. Moonlight lent the world an enchanted grace, and he felt a touch of regret that he wasn’t strolling with someone himself. Even Reid might be an agreeable companion for a game of chess or a little conversation. He was not entirely unbearable when he was on his best behavior. Jonah could admit that, but maybe it was just the warming effect of the brandy, leaving him sleepy and wistful.

“Well, good evening, Jonah. I’m delighted to see you here.”

“Mr. Grandborough.” Jonah turned. “I beg your pardon…” He hastily extended a hand. “Good evening, sir.”

Mr. Grandborough shook his hand. “A fine night, isn’t it? Not one in which to talk business, but—”

“Concerning Mr. Hylliard?”

“Well….” He smiled. “Horace tells me the day-to-day business is running smoothly. I know that’s in no small part due to you. That’s twice this year you’ve been faced with a rather delicate situation. I’m pleased to see you’ve handled it discreetly and efficiently. Very pleased, Jonah.”

Though it might have been equally as discreet and efficient to conceal his bewilderment, Jonah couldn’t manage it. “I don’t understand. My work meets with your approval?”

Mr. Grandborough’s lips briefly pursed. “Whatever you’ve read into the board’s decisions these past few weeks, you may trust we are pleased with your work. The idea to hire outside was not born through any fault of yours.”

“But… you never gave me an opportunity to—”

“No need. You’ve been acting cashier for nearly a year. There were other considerations.”

The protest that had played through his mind so many times now rushed, unhindered, to his lips. “I don’t know what would sway the board to hire outside, but for some deficiency on my part. If changes were wanted, the board had only to discuss them with me. I would have implemented any changes you desired—”

“Jonah.” The interjection was gentle but firm. “Allow me to apologize. This is not the place for this discussion, and I certainly didn’t intend to spoil your evening.” He laid a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and eased the empty glass from his grip. “You look as though you could use a little fresh air. Come, take a walk around the terrace, and you’ll feel steadier.”

The hoped-for explanation was not to be. That Mr. Grandborough would seek him out to praise his work only bewildered him more. With no chance to broach the subject again, Jonah went unresistingly back to the ballroom—an assault of noise and light, when all he wanted was to sit and think. Perhaps the terrace would permit it, despite the number of couples who had escaped the warm room for a breath of air.

He’d hardly stepped through the doorway when his attention fell on Reid, deep in conversation with Alice. Jonah knew by the look of him that Reid was pouring on the charm, and not even strong-willed Alice could resist. She was only human, and Reid did have a taking way about him.

In no mood to suffer any further victories of Reid’s, Jonah left the ballroom and, gathering his things, lingered on the stoop only long enough to button his coat. It was growing colder, and carriages were arriving for the guests who meant to leave early. He didn’t suppose he’d have to walk far for a cab.

He had started across the road toward the park when footsteps came swiftly up behind him. Alarmed that Mr. Grandborough had sent someone to fetch him back, he turned with an apology at the ready. But it was Reid, coatless, hatless, and perceptibly out of breath. Startled, Jonah stared at him, then retreated a step. “You followed me out.”

“I saw you leave—”

“That’s no business of yours.” Jonah turned and crossed to the opposite walk. Hearing Reid behind him, he fell into a fast stride alongside the park fence.

“Jonah, would you wait a minute?”

Jonah picked up his pace. “What do you want?”

“I know.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know it’s not me you’re jealous of.”