‘I think that might have something to do with trustees.’ She saw his brows rise and spread her hands. ‘I must have some, I think. There has been no lack of funds for my upbringing, but I do not think it is entirely within the Pridhams’ control. Occasionally, when Mr Pridham is angry he says, If I had my way, which makes me wonder if perhaps he receives instructions from elsewhere.’
‘That would suggest that you are not a pauper, then.’
‘No.’
Neither did it prove she was an eligible match. She glanced towards the armchair, where Mrs Ancrum was dozing. The old lady’s reticence to tell her what she knew only added to Natalya’s suspicions that she was baseborn. If that were so, there was nothing she could do about it. No respectable man would marry her.
Tristan shifted on his chair. ‘After the fourth of June your uncle will not be able to forbid the banns. If Freddie returns and proposes, will you accept him?’
She was about to repeat once again that she had no interest in his nephew when she recalled Mrs Ancrum’s words, that if a man loved her, he would not care about her birth. If Freddie did care for her, and if he was intending to make her an offer—and Tristan’s presence in Bath suggested that was the case—then perhaps she should accept him. After all, marriage to a good, kind man must be preferable to the fate she feared awaited her, if she was illegitimate.
‘Well, is it so difficult a question?’
His voice sounded harsh and unfriendly to her overstretched nerves.
‘Not at all,’ she snapped. ‘However, Freddie has not yet asked me to marry him. And in any case,’ she added, goaded by his scowl. ‘I shall wait until I attain my majority before making any decisions about my future!’ She pushed back her chair. ‘Mrs Ancrum is stirring. It is time we were going. Perhaps, my lord, you will summon the carriage.’
When Tristan reached George Street he dismounted and handed the reins to the waiting servant. He did not enter his hired house, but stood on the flagway, pulling off his gloves and frowning as he watched his man lead the horse away.
The more he saw of Natalya Fairchild the more he liked her, but that did not make her any more eligible a match for his nephew. Katherine would want to know something of her future daughter-in-law’s pedigree and every avenue he had tried so far had come to a dead end. He could not even discover anything about the Pridhams, although they appeared to have a considerable income.
No one knew or was willing to divulge anything about Miss Fairchild’s natural parents and even Natalya had not been told. His doubts and fears might yet be allayed and she might turn out to be perfectly respectable, even an heiress, but the more Tristan saw of Natalya the more he was convinced she was not the bride for Freddie. They might be the same age in years, but she was far more mature.
Her interests, too, differed wildly from those of his nephew. Freddie was still finding his way in the world, whereas Natalya read widely and she had definite opinions. Marriage between them could only end in disaster. He was too much the boy and she needed a man.
Such as yourself, I suppose?
The thought brought him up with a jolt. He wanted to laugh it off, brush it aside, but there was more than a grain of truth in it. She attracted him—not just her beauty, but her lively wit, the humour that made her eyes sparkle with mischief, her readiness to argue her case, yet she was still willing to consider opposing points of view. Whatever else she might be, she was no milk-and-water maid, to knuckle down meekly beneath her husband’s thumb and he was convinced that husband should not be Freddie. In fact, Tristan realised, he disliked the idea of anyone marrying Natalya.
With something like a growl, he shook off the disturbing thoughts and made his way into the house. The footman who opened the door was startled into silence by having his master’s hat, riding crop and gloves thrust at him and commanded in terse accents to have a decanter and glasses fetched up immediately.
Tristan strode on, not waiting for the man to reply, and went in to the drawing room almost without check, only to come to a halt just inside the door.
‘Ah, there you are, Tris.’ Freddie jumped from his chair, grinning. ‘I have been waiting for you!’
Chapter Six
‘Freddie.’ Tristan pushed his wayward thoughts to one side and nodded at his nephew. ‘When did you get back to Bath?’
‘This morning. Your letter to Mama, telling her you had taken a house in Bath for the summer, could not have been better timed. I had been there for nearly a fortnight and was desperate to get back here, so I told her I was coming to join you. I have seen Hurley and he has arranged everything, prepared rooms for me and my man and had the bags taken up. I asked for wine to be brought in, too. I hope you do not mind, Tris, but you must be rattling around here all alone and cannot object to putting me up.’ He noticed his uncle’s hesitation and flushed slightly. ‘I can always find a room at the White Hart, or the Star, if it is inconvenient.’
‘It is not inconvenient at all,’ replied Tristan. ‘I would have preferred you to give me a little notice, that is all.’
‘Excellent! I did not like to presume and told Platt not to unpack my bags until I had spoken to you,’ came the sunny reply. ‘But I will do so, as soon as we have drunk a glass together. What will it be, Tris, Madeira? Or the claret is very good, I tried a glass while I was waiting for you.’
‘Claret, then. And it should be good. It is from
