The house servants were all indoors so he stopped Freddie on the doorstep, out of earshot of the postilions and Freddie’s valet, who was holding open the carriage door for him.
‘Freddie, forgive me, but have your feelings for Miss Fairchild truly changed, or have you withdrawn your suit because of what happened at the Cock Tavern?’
‘Damnation, Tris, I am not one to run shy because of a few threats!’
‘No, I know that, but,’ Tristan forced himself to ask, ‘are you still in love with her?’
‘If I was, do you think I would be leaving Bath and missing her birthday?’ When he had jumped into the carriage, the valet closed the door and scrambled up on to the box beside the driver. Freddie let down the window and put out his head.
‘If you are anxious about what Mama will say about this business with Natalya, pray do not be, Tris. I am off to put her mind at rest.’
With that he gave a cheery wave and put up the window as the carriage pulled away. Tristan made his way back into the house, realising that the boy had not quite answered his question.
The Pump Room was crowded when Natalya entered with her aunt and it was some moments before she saw Mrs Ancrum. Excusing herself, she made her way across the room.
‘I thought I should not see you here,’ declared Mrs Ancrum as Natalya came up to her. ‘Why, it must be past noon by now!’
‘It is, but Mr Pridham insisted we finish our studies.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Russia’s role in the recent war! I suppose he thought it would be of interest, since the newspapers are full of the Tsar’s visit to England next week. But it is the last morning I need spend on such matters,’ she said, eyes twinkling. ‘I have decided to give up all my lessons. There shall be no more Italian, or drawing, history or anything else, as from today!’
‘Oh, is today of special significance?’ asked the old lady, feigning innocence. ‘Ah, yes, it is Friday. The third of June, I think.’
‘You are quite right ma’am, and tomorrow is the fourth. You are a wicked tease!’
Mrs Ancrum was delighted with this reply and she laughed. ‘Did you think I would forget your birthday, my dear? You know I rarely go out of an evening, but I shall be at your party tomorrow night, you may be sure.’
‘I depend upon it,’ Natalya replied. ‘You shall be my guest of honour.’
‘What? I thought that would be young Mr Erwin.’
‘No, indeed, even if he was coming.’
‘Is he not?’
Natalya shook her head. ‘He is gone into Surrey for a while.’
‘To apprise his mother of his forthcoming nuptials, no doubt. Oh, do not colour up so, my love, everyone in Bath has heard the rumours.’
‘But there is no truth in them, ma’am. I am not going to marry Freddie Erwin.’
Mrs Ancrum frowned at her. ‘And why not? Have you allowed yourself to be browbeaten by your Uncle Pridham? Or has Lord Dalmorren said something to you?’
‘Oh, His Lordship disapproves of me,’ she said bitterly, remembering their last meeting. ‘He thinks me a most unsuitable bride for his nephew!’
‘Well, he has no reason to do so!’
‘Does he not, ma’am? Can you be sure of that?’
For once Mrs Ancrum looked less than certain, but she rallied quickly and told Natalya not to be so anxious.
‘I am sure Pridham will make everything clear to you in the morning. And if it is not quite what we would wish for you—’ the old lady patted her cheek ‘—well, we shall see!’
Natalia awoke to a sunny morning that augured well for the day. Her birthday. Aggie bustled in with her hot chocolate and she sat up in bed, a little thrill of excitement shimmering through her. She had given up asking her aunt and uncle about her parents. ‘When you are older’ was the constant response. Well, today she was older. She was one-and-twenty. Today she would at last learn the truth.
As soon as she had dressed and broken her fast, Natalya made her way to the drawing room where she found her aunt and uncle waiting for her. Mrs Pridham came forward to greet her and acknowledged the occasion by awkwardly kissing her cheek. Her husband fetched a leather box from the mantelshelf and held it out to Natalya.
‘Your mother’s pearls,’ he explained. ‘I thought you might like to wear them for our little party this evening.’
She opened the box and gazed at the contents. On a bed of blue velvet nestled a single string of pearls and matching drops for her ears.
‘They are beautiful, sir, thank you.’ She looked up. ‘These belonged to my mother, you said. Will you tell me something about her?’
Natalya waited expectantly. Her uncle shifted from one foot to the other and would not meet her eyes. She noticed that her aunt had returned to her seat and was nervously pleating the skirts of her morning gown and then smoothing them out again. All the old dread resurfaced. The fear that she was an unwanted lovechild, an abandoned foundling. She felt quite sick.
‘Please, please tell me,’ she whispered, hot tears burning her eyes. ‘However unwelcome, however unpleasant the truth may be, it cannot be worse than my imaginings.’
Her uncle shook his head. He said solemnly, ‘It was my intention to explain everything today, but unfortunately circumstances have changed. You must be patient a little longer.’
‘Patient! I have been patient all my life, sir.’
‘I know, but we cannot tell you yet, Natalya.’
‘You mean you will not!’ She dashed a hand across her eyes. ‘I am forced to conclude that my...my history is too shameful to bear.’
Her aunt uttered a protest, but Mr Pridham silenced her with a look.
He said sharply, ‘Pray control yourself, Natalya, you are becoming hysterical. Your story is not as hopeless as you think.’
‘Is it not?’ She glared at him.
He put up
