Sudden and unexpected desire slammed through him and he fought hard to conceal it. He dragged his eyes to her face, but even that was not without its dangers. By heaven, but she was beautiful. Hauntingly so with her white gown almost glowing in the candlelight. The arrangement of her black hair, piled high on her head, accentuated the long, slender neck with its single strand of pearls. The fine bones of her face were as cleanly defined as sculpted marble. An ice maiden, he thought. Then she looked up and he saw there was fire in her eyes, which were huge and luminous beneath the gently arching brows. She held out her hand to him.
‘Lord Dalmorren. I am so pleased you could come.’
He bowed over her fingers. The smile trembling on her lips lifted his spirits. Tristan glanced towards Mrs Ancrum, but she was already deep in conversation with Colonel Yatton, sitting beside her. He turned back to Natalya.
‘You are looking very well this evening, Miss Fairchild.’
She looked down at herself and grimaced. ‘I feel like a sacrificial virgin.’
‘Oh, why should that be?’
He was still holding her fingers and he wondered now if their slight tremble had not been a pleasurable reaction to his touch, but fear. His heart swelled with the urge to protect her.
‘You may confide in me,’ he murmured. ‘You have my word I shall respect anything you tell me.’
Emotion flashed across her face. Surprise, perhaps, and relief, although for what, he had no idea.
‘That is very good of you.’ Her voice was low, serious, but she shook her head. ‘It is nothing. A mere irritation of the nerves.’
Not good enough, Natalya, you are unhappy and I want to know why.
‘It is very hot in here. Let us walk across to the open window.’ He lifted her fingers on to his sleeve and for a moment he rested his hand over hers. ‘Why should you be nervous? It is your birthday. A day for rejoicing, surely.’ He paused for a heartbeat. ‘Are you missing my nephew?’
‘Freddie? No, not in the way you mean. Naturally I would have liked him to be here. As a friend.’
The look she gave him was reassuring, but he had to be certain. Suddenly it was vitally important that he did not misunderstand her.
‘And you really have no plans to marry him?’
They had reached the window, where the barest breeze wafted in, bringing with it the faint rustling of the trees in the park. He scooped two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and gave one to Natalya. She took a sip, staring down into the street below. He waited in silence, enjoying the view of her profile, with its straight little nose. There was the slightest droop to her mouth and he wished he might take that determined little chin between finger and thumb and tilt her face up to him. He wanted to kiss away the unhappiness that hung about her like a cloak.
At last she turned to him. ‘I will not marry Freddie and I have told him so. I confess it would be tempting to know my future was secure, but he is too young.’
‘He is but a few months younger than yourself.’
‘In age we are almost equal, yes, but...’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I like him too much to tie him down. In another few years he will meet the love of his life, a young lady who will suit him far better than I.’
‘I think so, too.’ She flinched and he added quickly, ‘I am saying I believe you are not suited, not that you are in any way an unsuitable bride.’
‘You do not know that.’
The words were so low he almost missed them.
‘And you do?’
She hesitated and he waited again, hoping she would confide in him. After a long, long moment she laughed, not very convincingly, and took another sip of wine.
‘Of course not. But as for marriage, how can any of us predict the future, my lord? I believe many happy unions are born from the most unpromising beginnings.’ She turned her back on the window and smiled, ‘But this is all too serious for today. Freddie told me that you are a member of the Royal Society—do tell me what that is like! Do you attend many lectures, do you know many of the fellows?’
He followed her lead, describing some of the lectures he had attended. Natalya showed a gratifying interest in all he said, especially when he told her of the talks about ancient Egypt. Her questions were pertinent and he was persuaded to describe for her his visits to the British Museum.
‘I should like to see the Egyptian antiquities,’ she told him. ‘I believe the collection is now quite extensive, following our success there against Bonaparte.’
‘The artefacts are quite fascinating, but as I understand it, they are nothing compared to the ruined temples and the pyramids in Egypt itself. I should like to go there and see them for myself, now the war is over.’
‘So, too, should I. Very much.’ Her eyes were shining at the thought of it and she flushed slightly, as if embarrassed at her enthusiasm. A little laugh escaped her. ‘I have travelled so little that even London would be a novelty for me! How I envy those who made the Grand Tour, before the war with France put an end to such things. Just imagine how exciting it must be, to visit the capitals of Europe, to put to use all those languages I have learned. Ah well, it is not impossible that I shall visit Egypt one day, if...’
He smiled. ‘If what, Natalya?’
She shook her head and he had the impression she stifled a sigh.
‘Nothing. I am being nonsensical.’ She looked up, saying brightly, ‘Have you been to Stonehenge?
