Major Moffatt laughed. ‘As if they needed something! But tell me, Tris, do you ever see anything of young Framlington? And what of Naismith...?’
Tristan smiled, but was relieved at the change of subject, and by the time they parted the next country dance was well underway. He turned his attention back to the dance floor, but there was no sign of his nephew, or Miss Fairchild. His eyes raked the benches at the side of the room and he finally spotted them sitting together in one corner of the room. He could only see Freddie’s profile, but Natalya’s lovely face was smiling, and as he watched she put her finger to Freddie’s lips, then reached for his hand.
Tristan swung away. He felt winded, as if he had taken a blow to the gut. Could anything be clearer? For all her protestations to the contrary, Natalya obviously cared a great deal for Freddie. Jaw clenched, he moved blindly towards the door, but his pace slowed before he reached it. He could not leave. Freddie might very well partner Natalya for another two dances before the night was out, if he was not checked. He remembered Dolly Moffatt’s words. People were already watching, speculating about the young couple. For them to stand up together for a third time would send the gossipmongers into a frenzy.
The music had stopped and he turned in time to see Freddie escorting Natalya back to Mrs Ancrum. Tristan made his way through the milling crowd until he was close enough to catch Freddie’s eye. He watched as his nephew excused himself and came across.
‘Well, Tris, did you want me?’ He was grinning, clearly pleased at the way his evening was progressing. ‘I was about to ask Miss Spinhurst to stand up.’
‘Henry Grisham is there before you,’ Tristan replied, glancing across the room. ‘I thought we might play a hand of cards.’
‘At a ball?’ Freddie laughed. ‘Come now, Tris, is there no one you wish to dance with?’
Tristan took his arm. ‘Humour me.’
‘Very well.’
With a shrug, Freddie followed him into the card room. They found an empty table in one corner and commenced a game of piquet.
‘Tell me,’ said Tristan, studying his cards, ‘how many other ladies have you danced with this evening, besides Miss Fairchild?’
‘Why, none, as yet.’ Freddie quickly selected a discard and threw it down. ‘You cannot blame me for taking this opportunity to dance with Natalya. When her aunt is present, she is allowed only two dances with any man. Natalya is kept far too confined.’
‘Perhaps with good reason.’
A frown crossed Freddie’s cheerful countenance. ‘Natalya is the woman I intend to marry, Tris. I’ll not hear a word against her.’
‘Neither do you want to incur censure.’
‘There is no one here who would do so. Devil take it, Tris, Mrs Ancrum sees no harm in our dancing together.’
‘She may not do so, but you may be sure the Pridhams will, when they hear of it.’
Freddie looked mutinous. ‘Natalya deserves to enjoy herself and, if she wishes to dance with me again this evening, I will not deny her!’
Tristan frowned at him. ‘You young fool, do you not realise that your attentions will reflect badly on the lady?’ He saw the boy’s face darken and said more gently, ‘You would not wish Miss Fairchild to become the object of gossip and speculation, would you?’
He saw that his words had hit home. Freddie’s boyish face grew serious.
‘No, of course not, but...’ He stopped, then said in a furious under-voice, ‘We are merely dancing, Tris. Surely no one can think anything wrong with that!’
‘This is Bath, Freddie. Most of the people here love nothing more than to see the most innocent events in a scandalous light.’
‘You are right, damn you.’ Freddie sighed. ‘Oh, well, when we have finished our game, I will engage both Miss Grisham and Miss Spinhurst to stand up with me this evening. That will throw the tabbies off the scent.’
‘It will help, certainly,’ said Tristan. He put down his cards. ‘My trick, I think.’
The play continued and after an hour Freddie threw down his cards in disgust.
‘You win again,’ he said, giving Tristan a rueful look. ‘That’s three games in a row. I beg your pardon, I have not really been attending to the cards.’
‘It does not matter. At least you are not making a cake of yourself in the ballroom.’
‘True.’ Freddie cocked his head, listening to the music. ‘If I am going to solicit Miss Grisham’s hand, I should go and do so for the next country dance.’
‘Very well. But you will oblige me by not standing up with Miss Fairchild again.’
‘But she has already promised to dance The Maid of Seville with me.’
Tristan shrugged. ‘Then another beau will have an opportunity to stand up with her.’
‘You do not understand.’ Freddie leaned across the table, saying earnestly, ‘Have you not noticed? The gentlemen do not dance with her, some discouraged by the Pridhams, others because they are afraid of associating with a lady whose birth is shrouded in mystery.’ He added bitterly, ‘If I do not stand up with her again, she will be obliged to sit out, or to suffer dancing with the likes of Lord Fossbridge!’
‘Very well, I will take your place.’
‘You!’
‘Yes. I was not going to dance tonight, but if it is the only way to salve your conscience, then I will do so.’
For a moment he thought Freddie would object, but then the boy grinned.
‘I have to say I’d as soon you danced with Lya than anyone else, Tris. And it will give you a chance to get to know her better.’
As they strolled back to the ballroom, Tristan had to admit the idea of
