Willoughby's Return_ A Tale of Almost Irresistible Temptation - Jane Odiwe [78]
Mrs Jennings had hardly turned to dry her hands, when Margaret excused herself and disappeared. The old lady shook her head. One thing was absolutely certain. Miss Margaret Dashwood was head over heels in love with Mr Henry Lawrence.
AS SHE ENTERED THE room, Margaret saw she was responsible for the card parties having broken up altogether. Everyone expressed their concern and asked how she did; all except the very person she was longing to hear from. Mr Carey soon commandeered her again and before she knew it, she was sharing the sofa previously occupied by Henry and his friend.
Mrs Jennings came rushing through the door, begging forgiveness from them all. “I wonder if we might continue with the delightful musical diversion,” she exclaimed. “Mademoiselle de Fontenay, would you do the honour of leading the young ladies?”
Once more, Margaret was forced to watch Henry attend his friend. The young lady gave a faultless performance to resounding applause.
“How about a duet, Mademoiselle Antoinette? Would you join me in a song for two?” Henry asked, placing the music and clearing his throat.
Antoinette looked up at him adoringly, Margaret noticed, their eyes never leaving the others for a moment as they trilled in perfect harmony. There was rapturous applause at the end.
Colonel Brandon rose to his feet. “May I compliment you, Mademoiselle de Fontenay, on an exquisite recital? I declare I’ve not heard such delightful singing since I was last at Covent Garden.”
“Hear, hear,” all the gentlemen cried with one voice, rising to their feet, as everyone clapped again enthusiastically.
“What a delightful picture you both make, sitting together at the pianoforte,” cried Lady Lawrence, turning for approval to all who looked in her direction. “They played together as babes, you know, Mrs Brandon, and have scarcely ever been apart.”
Margaret saw Marianne glance over, her expression almost enough to have Margaret in tears again. She knew exactly what her sister was thinking. It would not have escaped her notice how Margaret had been ignored by Henry.
“Miss Dashwood,” Mrs Jennings pronounced above the subsiding applause, “shall we hear from you next?”
How she wished the floor would open and swallow her up. The whole room had silenced, as if awaiting her answer. Margaret stood up but she felt quite unsteady on her feet. Taking a deep breath, she ventured a step toward the pianoforte but had to hold onto a chair. Her head felt light and her ears were buzzing. “I’m sorry, Mrs Jennings, but I have a headache and am feeling a little unwell.”
Hardly were her words uttered, when she fell. Charles Carey, anticipating her distress, leapt to his feet and caught her in his arms. Holding her aloft, he carefully laid her on the sofa.
Marianne rushed to her sister's side with smelling salts and decided that now would be a good time to leave. Whilst Mrs Jennings fussed over Margaret once more, with Mrs Ferrars and Anne Steele proffering their advice in the background, Marianne was able to have a word with her husband.
“Dear me, Miss Margaret seems to be of a very sickly constitution,” announced Lady Lawrence. “In one so young, it does not bode well. I remember my school friend, Miss Thackeray, a large girl like Miss Dashwood. She looked as strong as an ox, but went to bed one night and didn’t wake up again.”
“I hope it's nothing serious, perhaps you should take her home, Mrs Brandon,” said Sir Edgar kindly. “I will have the carriage sent round immediately.”
“As I am sure you all know,” his wife went on, “I suffer quite dreadfully myself, but I never knew a single malady in my youth. I do not remember you ever knowing a day's illness, Mademoiselle Antoinette. You are such a delicate-looking girl, yet like myself, you come from good, stalwart stock.”
“’Tis a good thing you were there to catch her, Mr Carey, I saw