Natalya kept silent about her own thoughts on this.
‘That is the reason I invited Dalmorren to join us last night,’ continued Mrs Ancrum. ‘I want him to see what a good wife you would make for his nephew. I know he would get little encouragement from your aunt and uncle.’
Natalya bit her lip. ‘Perhaps they have other plans for me.’
‘What plans should they have, other than to see you comfortably established? No, when you reach one-and-twenty I am sure you will discover that your birth is perfectly respectable.’ She stopped and seemed to struggle with herself, then she said with unwonted force, ‘But even if that should not be the case, your true friends will stand by you, never fear.’
Natalya wondered sadly how many true friends she had, but as Mrs Ancrum abruptly changed the subject at that point she followed her lead, pushing doubts about her future to the back of her mind. It was futile to speculate. Uncle Pridham had promised to tell her about her family when she came of age and after that she would be able to make her own choices for the future.
Lansdown Hill was every bit as delightful as Natalya remembered. When they alighted from the barouche, she gave Mrs Ancrum her arm and they strolled to the monument, where, at her elderly friend’s behest, she related the story of the battle and they took a moment to remember the lives lost and the suffering of those caught up in the more recent battles in France and the Peninsula.
They were making a final perambulation of the monument when a rider appeared and stopped some distance away. As they watched, he dismounted, secured his horse to a tree branch and came striding towards them.
Mrs Ancrum stopped. ‘Bless me, it is Lord Dalmorren!’
Natalya had already recognised him and she felt the blush rising through her body. She kept her eyes lowered as Mrs Ancrum called to him.
‘Good day to you, Tristan. This is a surprise.’
‘Really, ma’am?’ There was the merest hint of a drawl in his voice. ‘Have you forgotten that I told you I would be riding up here today?’
Natalya looked up, startled, but Mrs Ancrum’s countenance was all innocence.
‘It quite slipped my mind,’ she said. ‘But now you are here you can give me your arm, if you please, while we continue our walk. Poor Natalya must find me a burden.’
‘Not at all, madam. And, if you recall, we were about to return to the barouche.’
‘That was to spare you the exertion of supporting me longer that was necessary. Now that Tristan is here he may take your place. In fact, he can give you his other arm and we can take a closer look at Sir Bevil’s statue.’
Natalya bit her lip, torn between amusement, embarrassment and indignation. His Lordship, on the other hand, appeared to be completely at his ease. He laughed.
‘Mrs Ancrum, you are the most outrageously designing creature. You deserve that I should whisk Miss Fairchild away and leave you to your own devices, but that, I suspect, might suit your purposes even better!’
The old lady chuckled. ‘Stop it, Tristan, you are putting my young friend to the blush!’
‘You have already done that,’ Natalya told her, cheeks flaming. She said crossly, ‘I am minded to leave you both and walk back to the carriage alone!’
‘Pray do not do that, Miss Fairchild.’ He put up one hand. ‘Mrs Ancrum merely wishes to help. Let us be frank about the matter, your aunt and uncle put every obstacle in our way, but I should like to know you a little better.’
Recalling her own disastrous attempt to arrange such a meeting, Natalya knew not what to say. Tristan smiled down at her.
‘If you return to the carriage now, Mrs Ancrum will feel obliged to accompany you. Surely you do not wish to curtail her pleasure?’
‘Of course she does not,’ said that lady. ‘Come, my lord, you may give me your arm and Natalya may walk along beside us with perfect propriety. No one can complain about that!’
The matter was settled. They turned back to the monument and Natalya was persuaded to repeat her account of the battle. Lord Dalmorren appeared genuinely interested and gradually, under his gentle questioning, she relaxed and began to enjoy herself, although she could not be persuaded to take his arm.
‘How pleasant this has been,’ declared Mrs Ancrum, when at last they strolled back towards the barouche. ‘I am so glad we met you here, Tristan. Perhaps you would like to join us for refreshments at the hostelry just down the hill?’
Tristan demurred and glanced towards Natalya, who gave in to the promptings of her rebel self to say, ‘You would be very welcome, my lord. Mrs Ancrum would appreciate your escort back to the Paragon, too, I am sure.’
‘Very well, then, if you do not object, I should like to join you.’
He smiled, transforming his rather stern features into something much softer and Natalya felt again the sudden tug of attraction. Heavens! Perhaps the Pridhams were right to keep her so confined, if she could be affected by a gentleman on such a short acquaintance. It occurred to her that there were other gentlemen, including Freddie Erwin, whom she had known for longer than Tristan and yet she felt not the slightest spark of attraction.
She stole another glance at him as he escorted Mrs Ancrum towards the waiting carriage. He was every inch a fashionable gentleman with his tall hat and boots polished to a mirror-like gloss. In fact, she thought he looked even better in riding jacket and buckskins than in his black evening coat. The frightening thing was that she had had several gentlemen pointed out to her as handsome, but not one of them made the breath hitch in her throat, or made her stomach swoop when they looked her way.
They reached the carriage and she waited for Lord Dalmorren to hand her in, steeling herself for his touch. Yet despite thinking herself prepared,
