‘What a wonderful surprise, Natalya, I did not know you were to be here tonight.’
‘That is because I was not sure she would be,’ Mrs Ancrum replied for her.
‘Well, we are very pleased Mr and Mrs Pridham could spare you,’ put in Mrs Grisham, smiling at Natalya.
Lord Dalmorren entered and was greeted cheerfully by his hostess, who advised him not to stand upon ceremony, but to come in and join them all.
‘Just an impromptu little dinner, my lord,’ she said, giving him her hand. ‘You know everyone, I believe.’
‘I do, ma’am, thank you.’
He glanced around, nodding to everyone and finally turning to Natalya.
‘Miss Fairchild.’
She made her curtsy, determined not to blush under the scrutiny of those hard grey eyes, trying not to think how well he looked, immaculate in black tailcoat and light-coloured breeches, a diamond winking from the folds of his snowy cravat. She knew a moment’s panic when she thought he might approach, but his attention was claimed by the Colonel and the gentlemen were all soon engrossed in a conversation which lasted until it was time to go in to dinner.
Mrs Ancrum was an excellent hostess and conversation flowed between her guests as readily as the wine that accompanied the meal. Natalya was relieved to be seated at a distance from Lord Dalmorren, but she was contrary enough to wish he might occasionally look her way. A foolish idea and impolite, too. How odd it would look if he ignored his immediate neighbours to stare at her! She dragged her attention back to her end of the table and threw herself into an animated discussion on the merits of Lord Byron’s poems.
At the end of the meal, Mrs Ancrum rose and invited the ladies to accompany her to the drawing room, where Jane carried Natalya off to the sofa, leaving her mother and their hostess to occupy the chairs flanking the fire.
‘Have you made up your differences with Lord Dalmorren?’ Jane whispered. ‘He seems very agreeable this evening.’
‘I am sure he has forgotten that silly incident.’ Natalya tried to pass it off with a laugh. ‘He did not like my drawing of his nephew, that is all.’
‘The sketch you made of Mr Erwin, when he came to Bath in February?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. We were all agreed at the time that it was not very good.’
‘I remember it now; you were very cross with yourself for not being able to capture his true likeness.’ Jane’s brow cleared. ‘That explains everything. From His Lordship’s conversation with Mama at dinner, one can tell he is extremely attached to his family. Although, it was very wrong of him to disparage your drawing,’ she added quickly. ‘And he should not have been angry if you took offence at his criticism. It was very rude to storm off without a word of farewell.’
‘He did not storm off,’ Natalya protested. ‘I...um... I think perhaps he was late for an engagement.’
Natalya was uncomfortable that her friend should think ill of Lord Dalmorren. He had misconstrued the situation between herself and his nephew, but that was not entirely his fault. However, it was impossible to explain it all to Jane and Natalya did not try. Instead she turned the subject and chattered on about fashions and the weather until the gentlemen came in.
Mrs Ancrum called to them from her place by the fire.
‘I am glad you did not linger over your brandy. I have promised to return Miss Fairchild to her home by midnight.’
‘Indeed?’ cried Mr Grisham, glancing towards the clock. ‘Then we should waste no time in asking the young ladies to entertain us with music!’
A short discussion ensued as to who should play first and at last Natalya was persuaded.
When she walked over to the pianoforte, Lord Dalmorren followed, saying he would move the candles for her.
‘Home by midnight?’ he murmured as she took her seat at the pianoforte. ‘Just like Cinderella.’
She ignored that, but she could not resist muttering, ‘I hope you will find my playing more acceptable than my painting.’
‘That rankled, did it?’ She saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘I beg your pardon. To own the truth, I thought your drawing was very good. It was the subject matter that concerned me.’
‘My lord, I assure you there is no reason why it should,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I have no designs upon your nephew.’
‘Perhaps it is more that Freddie has designs upon you.’
She could read nothing from his tone or his grey eyes but mild amusement. Her heart lifted as she ran her fingers over the keys and began to play. They were no longer at odds and she was surprised how much that pleased her.
Natalya returned to Sydney Place just before midnight in Mrs Ancrum’s ancient but serviceable barouche and entered the house to be informed that the master and mistress were waiting for her in the drawing room. They greeted her kindly, brushed aside her apologies for keeping them up so late and enquired if she had enjoyed herself.
‘Very much,’ she replied truthfully. ‘Mrs Ancrum had invited a few friends to join us for dinner. Her whist partner, Colonel Yatton, of course, and the Grishams were there, too, with Jane and Henry. Oh, and Lord Dalmorren,’ she added casually. ‘I understand his mama was a good friend of Mrs Ancrum, in her youth.’ She salved her conscience with the thought that it was not exactly a lie, although ‘an acquaintance’ were the words Mrs Ancrum had actually used.
‘Lord Dalmorren?’ Mr Pridham sat up in his chair. ‘I hope he did not make you the object of his attention this evening.’
‘Not at all. I barely spoke to him all night.’
She need not tell them that they had sung a duet together, or that she had
