Natalya took his arm and accompanied him to the dance floor, just as she had two weeks earlier. This time, however, she was aware that her pulse was beating a little faster and she was far more conscious of his presence. Just the touch of his hand made her jump. It was not merely her aunt and uncle’s scrutiny that made her concentrate on her steps. She felt awkward, tongue-tied, as if she might burst into flames if she allowed herself to enjoy the dance. She kept her conversation to the mundane, giving little more than monosyllabic replies, and by the time he escorted her off the floor at the end of the dance she felt thoroughly wretched. Any liking he had for her would surely be at an end.
‘And that is a good thing,’ she told herself as she watched him walk away and solicit the hand of pretty, blonde-haired Verena Summerton for the next dance. ‘Aunt and Uncle have told me he is only amusing himself, which I knew already. He as good as told me that he is in Bath to ascertain if I am a suitable bride for his nephew. No, my girl. You might find him charming, and amusing and fascinating, but you had much better stay away from him if you do not want to find yourself weeping into your pillow at nights!’
It was a noble resolve and Natalya found it quite easy to keep to it until the end of the evening. She had no partner for the last two dances and the Pridhams were signalling to her from across the room. She had just begun to make her way around the edge of the dance floor towards them when Lord Dalmorren stepped in front of her.
‘Will you honour me, Miss Fairchild, by joining me for the next set?’
You have another chance. He wants to dance with you again!
She knew she should refuse, but the words would not come, for he was smiling down at her and all she could think of was how much she wanted to dance with him. Silently she gave him her hand and allowed him to guide her to the remaining space in one of the sets that was forming.
Natalya fixed her eyes on the top button of her partner’s waistcoat, not daring to look at the Pridhams. They would be angry and she would have to endure a tremendous scold on the way home, but that was later. Now she was determined to enjoy herself. She would show him that she was no brainless ninny. She would impress him with her intelligence and wit. At least, she would if she could drag her gaze away from that waistcoat.
‘I do not think I have ever known a lady so busy,’ he remarked, as they waited for the music to begin. ‘Your every waking hour appears to be occupied.’
‘My aunt and uncle are anxious for me to improve myself by extensive study.’
‘And consequently, you do not have a moment to yourself.’
‘They are at pains to hire the very best tutors for me.’ She added after a moment, ‘Even my attendance at these assemblies is part of my education.’
‘Is it, by heaven!’
‘Why, yes. Every young lady needs to be able to dance.’
‘Every young lady needs to be able to converse in a sensible manner,’ he retorted.
That stung, all the more because she recognised the justice of it. Natalya threw him an angry look, but the dance had begun and she was obliged to hold her tongue as they stepped and turned and circled, but when the dance brought them back together, she immediately assured him that she could converse sensibly.
‘Every attempt to talk to you at the Exhibition Rooms was frustrated by your aunt and uncle. How is an acquaintance to progress under such circumstances?’
Thank heavens they separated at that point, for Natalya felt her cheeks growing hot with a flush of quite irrational pleasure. Was it possible he still wanted to become better acquainted with her, despite her dismal attempts at conversation? The idea nagged at her as the dance progressed to its conclusion.
At that point she half-expected her uncle to come and drag her from the dance floor, but when that did not happen she stood, tongue-tied, waiting for the second dance to begin.
‘I agree, a lecture is hardly the place for idle chatter,’ Lord Dalmorren continued as if there had been no break in their conversation. ‘However, discussion should follow, at some point, perhaps even debate, if the lecture was sufficiently interesting. Are you never allowed to speak to anyone?’
‘Of course! I am not a prisoner.’
Even as she uttered the words, Natalya remembered how confined she had been this past week. She glanced across the room to where her aunt and uncle were standing. They were watching her with ill-concealed rage that she had disobeyed them. She knew she was kept very close, but that had never worried her before. Her friends had told her of flirtations involving stolen moments and secret assignations, away from the critical gaze of chaperons, but Natalya had never wished to slip off and meet someone.
Until now. The idea was unsettling, but it could not be ignored and she discovered that the small spark of rebellion had not quite been extinguished. When the music finally stopped and her partner reached for her hand to escort her off the floor, she drew a deep breath.
‘Tomorrow is my art lesson,’ she remarked. ‘However, my tutor is gone to Bristol to visit his family and, if the good weather holds, I shall be walking to Beechen Cliff with Jane Grisham, to spend the day sketching vistas of the city.’
Heavens, what was she about? It was almost as if she was two people, one of them observing the other
