A Christmas Cotillion

which concerned Jonathan a little, given her new understanding with the hesitant Mr. Hammond. However, he noted this was not particularly marked as Freddy seemed determined to share his favours equally and escort all the ladies in turn onto the dance floor.
Later on, Jonathan saw Mr. Hammond and Belinda dancing and talking together in amity. He knew he could rely on Belinda’s sensible nature to avoid any misapprehension right when she and Mr. Hammond seemed to be reaching some sort of understanding.
He reckoned that Mr. Hammond had just the right amount of steadiness that Belinda had said she desired in a husband and that she was thoughtful enough to see the real value of the man behind the relatively plain façade. Now the ice had been broken, the rest was up to them, Jonathan concluded with a degree of satisfaction.
After so many departures, the evening entertainment was less organised and more informal. Rather than the need for hired musicians, there were plenty of volunteers from the assembled company. To start off the evening, one of the Grants’ daughters was playing the pianoforte and Freddy and a few others sang along to her accompaniment.
As he was not really required as a dance partner, and pleading a slight headache as an excuse, Jonathan retired to the library with a brandy and a book. Since the visit would soon be coming to a close, he was glad to be relieved of social duties for one evening at least. It would be a nice change to have a little solitary relaxation before the busyness of his aunt’s home and then the return to his own laborious existence, where evenings were only for eating and sleeping after working outside all day.
Despite these good intentions, he felt unsettled as he tried to concentrate on his reading. He kept reading the same passage again and again and forgetting to sip his brandy, which was nicely warmed by the fire. He was not tired, just oddly restless in a way he could not fathom. As he did his best to focus on his book, he heard the door open and was relieved, rather than irritated, to be interrupted in his increasingly fruitless task.
He expected it to a Grant family member; an elder seeking some quiet company or a younger wanting him to join the dancing. So he was astonished to find Nicholas standing in front of him, smiling slightly, with the brandy decanter in his hand.
“I thought you might like a top-up,” he said lightly as he approached Jonathan’s chair. Jonathan wordlessly picked up his glass and dry-mouthed, watched as Nicholas refilled his glass.
“May I join you?” Nicholas asked, a glass appearing from his coat pocket, giving away that this had been his intention all along.
Jonathan mumbled assent, feeling inexplicably tongue-tied and lacking in his usual social graces. Nicholas’ ease as he settled himself in the wing chair opposite, only emphasised Jonathan’s sudden conversational ineptness.
“What are you reading?” Nicholas asked, the curve of his mouth revealing that ready touch of humour lurking beneath the surface. As he wordlessly lifted the volume for Nicholas’ inspection, Jonathan thought uneasily that the subject for such entertainment must be his own boorish manners.
As though Nicholas sensed his discomfort, he handed the volume back to Jonathan without his usual irreverent smile and asked, “Are you enjoying it?”
Jonathan found his tongue at last and replied with a crooked grin, “I can’t seem to get through it at all. Although I don’t think it’s the fault of the book. I wanted to have a little peace and quiet and now I have it, I can’t seem to settle to it.” He added hastily, “So it is good of you to join me.”
Nicholas sat back in his chair and raised his glass in salute towards Jonathan before taking a mouthful of brandy. Jonathan tried not to stare at the motion of that smooth, pale, clean-shaven throat in the flickering firelight.
Jonathan cleared his own throat as he searched his foggy brain for a neutral subject. “Thank you for your assistance the other evening on the dance floor.”
Nicholas smiled. “It was nothing. As you were already partnered up you could not have contrived it.” This time, his smile seemed to include Jonathan in the private joke.
“It was just from what Miss Belinda had said previously, that I thought…”
“Yes,” Nicholas affirmed. “It was a good notion. Joshua Hammond is a fine man. It’s only his shyness that has kept him unmarried this far.”
Jonathan glanced up in slight surprise at the confident tone. Nicholas had been such a willing helper at the parties over the Christmas season, he’d almost forgotten, that as a well-to-do local farmer’s son, Nicholas would be of equal status to many of the guests and on easy social terms with those who lived locally.
Unaware of Jonathan’s thoughts, Nicholas continued in a similar vein, “It had also crossed my mind to encourage those two together, as they seem well matched. Since your cousin decided on pastures new…” he added drily.
Jonathan smiled openly at that remark. “I think he has bitten off more than he can chew with Miss Corinna.”
Nicholas laughed. “She is thoroughly enjoying all the unaccustomed fuss, so we can’t grudge her that. She is a feisty one, though.”
They sat there smiling at each other and Jonathan, taking another sip of brandy, felt himself start to unwind.
“What about you?” Nicholas asked suddenly.
Any sense of relaxation fled. “In what way?” Jonathan deflected neatly.
“In matters of the heart?”
Jonathan bristled, embarrassed, “I don’t think that is any of your business, Mr.…”
“It’s Nick,” came the interruption, his gaze suddenly very intense and blue and for once, without a glimmer of a smile. From nowhere, Jonathan thought, Dear God, I could drown in those eyes.
Nicholas continued relentlessly, “I’ve noticed that despite all the pretty females about the house, that you have displayed no preference whatsoever. So I guessed you might not be in the petticoat line.”
Jonathan opened his mouth in alarm to defend himself from such a charge, but before he