just yet. Johanna wanted to get to know him a good deal better. He was the most exciting thing that had happened in a very long time.
But she knew she would have to be vigilant for he would undoubtedly try to slip away without anybody noticing, thereby avoiding all the tedious observances that came with goodbye. He was a good judge for her father would offer him a bed, which he would undoubtedly refuse. Her grandmother would insist he be fed dinner before he embarked upon his journey, something she knew perfectly well he did not wish to do. He would do his best to wiggle out of every suggestion and plea, she just knew he would.
And that would never do. As far as Johanna was concerned, she was not going to allow him to escape so easily.
Marcus found it hard to extract himself from the clutches of the Claybourns, although it wasn’t so much Johanna that had kept him about, but her grandmother. Katherine Howeth was the kind of elderly lady who was interested in everything, including the gossip from a city she had not visited since she was a girl. He’d done his best, although it had been hard to convince her that as he had not travelled from London and did not know of any gossip, it hardly mattered. As the lady seemed equally keen on hearing about the towns he had visited on his journey he’d done his humble best to entertain, if not inform. It had not taken him long to form a liking for Mrs. Howeth, for she had a sly, quick wit that had kept him well and truly amused, especially as she had a tendency to make uncannily sharp observations about the gentry. Not cruel, not catty but remarkably accurate. All in all, his unexpected call had not been too bad, especially after he had shut down Mordern’s far too probing inquiries and had deflected Mrs. Gordon’s honeyed questions. Having turned these aside, the conversation had become a great deal easier to negotiate.
After a time the Esks had even joined in. He had the impression that Mrs. Esk did not care overly much for the company she found herself in but her two children were more than happy to participate. James Esk had focused exclusively on Johanna, staring at her with soulful intensity. Marcus noticed she had responded to the lad’s conversational gambits with the kindness one would show a child that had been allowed at the adult’s table and he’d hidden a smile. He’d known many a youth who had gone through the intense pangs of first love and young James clearly had a bad case of it. Having seen both Mr. Ballantine and Mr. Esk snipe at each other, Marcus no longer doubted the tales of absurd bravado that Miss Claybourn had recounted. Her suitors probably turned themselves inside out to best each other. He had been a little surprised to discover that Hugo Ballantine had not been waiting for them at the house to ensure the object of his interest had survived her tumble, but obviously he had been delayed by his horse delivering him home first.
Before the advent of Hugo, Miss Claybourn’s part in the conversation had waned as she had lapsed into silence, responding only when addressed directly. She would occasionally cast uneasy glances towards Mordern, who seemed to be the source of her brooding silence.
Something in the wind there , he thought grimly. The chit does not like the man and I can hardly blame her. He’s a wrong ‘un and no mistake. I wonder if Claybourn intends to marry her off to the man? Surely not. It’s obvious she does not care for him in the least.
Although her liking for the fellow had very little to do with anything, he had to admit. Girls were frequently married off to men they did not care for if the match was considered fortuitous. Marcus could not recall hearing anything about Mordern before but that meant nothing. Before heading overseas he had spent surprisingly little time in London, certainly less than many fellows of his age and position. If he had not gone to France to fight then he might have done what most young blades of
But she knew she would have to be vigilant for he would undoubtedly try to slip away without anybody noticing, thereby avoiding all the tedious observances that came with goodbye. He was a good judge for her father would offer him a bed, which he would undoubtedly refuse. Her grandmother would insist he be fed dinner before he embarked upon his journey, something she knew perfectly well he did not wish to do. He would do his best to wiggle out of every suggestion and plea, she just knew he would.
And that would never do. As far as Johanna was concerned, she was not going to allow him to escape so easily.
Marcus found it hard to extract himself from the clutches of the Claybourns, although it wasn’t so much Johanna that had kept him about, but her grandmother. Katherine Howeth was the kind of elderly lady who was interested in everything, including the gossip from a city she had not visited since she was a girl. He’d done his best, although it had been hard to convince her that as he had not travelled from London and did not know of any gossip, it hardly mattered. As the lady seemed equally keen on hearing about the towns he had visited on his journey he’d done his humble best to entertain, if not inform. It had not taken him long to form a liking for Mrs. Howeth, for she had a sly, quick wit that had kept him well and truly amused, especially as she had a tendency to make uncannily sharp observations about the gentry. Not cruel, not catty but remarkably accurate. All in all, his unexpected call had not been too bad, especially after he had shut down Mordern’s far too probing inquiries and had deflected Mrs. Gordon’s honeyed questions. Having turned these aside, the conversation had become a great deal easier to negotiate.
After a time the Esks had even joined in. He had the impression that Mrs. Esk did not care overly much for the company she found herself in but her two children were more than happy to participate. James Esk had focused exclusively on Johanna, staring at her with soulful intensity. Marcus noticed she had responded to the lad’s conversational gambits with the kindness one would show a child that had been allowed at the adult’s table and he’d hidden a smile. He’d known many a youth who had gone through the intense pangs of first love and young James clearly had a bad case of it. Having seen both Mr. Ballantine and Mr. Esk snipe at each other, Marcus no longer doubted the tales of absurd bravado that Miss Claybourn had recounted. Her suitors probably turned themselves inside out to best each other. He had been a little surprised to discover that Hugo Ballantine had not been waiting for them at the house to ensure the object of his interest had survived her tumble, but obviously he had been delayed by his horse delivering him home first.
Before the advent of Hugo, Miss Claybourn’s part in the conversation had waned as she had lapsed into silence, responding only when addressed directly. She would occasionally cast uneasy glances towards Mordern, who seemed to be the source of her brooding silence.
Something in the wind there , he thought grimly. The chit does not like the man and I can hardly blame her. He’s a wrong ‘un and no mistake. I wonder if Claybourn intends to marry her off to the man? Surely not. It’s obvious she does not care for him in the least.
Although her liking for the fellow had very little to do with anything, he had to admit. Girls were frequently married off to men they did not care for if the match was considered fortuitous. Marcus could not recall hearing anything about Mordern before but that meant nothing. Before heading overseas he had spent surprisingly little time in London, certainly less than many fellows of his age and position. If he had not gone to France to fight then he might have done what most young blades of
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