Harlequin Historical May 2020--Box Set 2 of 2

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Harlequin Historical May 2020--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 24

by Harper St. George


  She took a deep breath. There was no point in taking her frustration out on the poor instrument. The piece was well within her ability, but she had not touched the pianoforte all week, that was the simple truth. She was tired of spending her time at her studies when other young ladies were out riding and walking and sallying forth for picnics. True, very few of her aunt and uncle’s acquaintances invited her to join such outings—with the exception of the Grishams, most families in Bath kept their distance—but even when she was invited, the Pridhams often refused, saying her studies were more important. Why, it was only this year that she had been allowed to attend the balls at the Assembly Rooms!

  Uncle Pridham had assured her everything would change in June, when she reached one-and-twenty, but until then the strict regime of study must be maintained. She could hardly refuse to see the tutors employed by her uncle, but she could spend her time reading or sketching rather than practising at the pianoforte. It was a tiny act of rebellion and she was not particularly proud of it. She was grateful for her aunt and uncle’s efforts on her behalf, but sometimes she wished they would not try quite so hard.

  There was a knock at the door and the music teacher was shown in. Natalya turned to him with an apologetic smile.

  ‘I fear you are going to be very disappointed with me this week, Mr Spark…’

  * * *

  Later, at the Assembly Rooms, Natalya sought out her friend Miss Grisham, a lively redhead in a gown of lemon muslin. She sat down beside her with an exaggerated sigh.

  ‘I am late, Jane, I know it. Pray do not scold me, I have had the…the devil of a day. Aggie is at outs with me because I tore my new muslin gown and forgot to tell her and there is nothing more uncomfortable than a maid’s sulks, you know. Then I had to endure two hours of Italian conversation and, to cap it all, Mr Spark read me a lecture because I had not perfected Mr Handel’s Sarabande.’

  ‘Much you care for that,’ replied her friend, smiling. ‘But what was it you said about Italian, Lya—has Mr Pridham managed to find you a new teacher?’

  ‘Yes, we had our first lesson this morning. Although I wonder my uncle should put himself to the trouble. It is little more than a month now until I come of age and he knows I intend to give up my studies then.’

  ‘And is he young and handsome, this new teacher?’ Jane asked her.

  ‘He is neither of those things.’ Natalya shuddered. ‘He is very short and very dark, with lascivious eyes and a wet mouth. I fear, if he had the opportunity, the signor would try to make love to me and I should be obliged to stab him with my hatpin. Thankfully, my aunt insists I am never alone with any member of the male sex.’ She giggled. ‘I know I have complained about that in the past, but in this instance, I am extremely grateful.’

  ‘And so you should be, Lya,’ replied her friend. ‘The Pridhams take extremely good care of you, you know.’

  ‘Yes, I do know. I am aware how fortunate I am to have such caring guardians, but it is all so, so stifling!’ She sighed. ‘I only wish I knew what they mean by it all.’

  ‘To keep you safe, of course. To protect your reputation and wrap you in a positive cloud of respectability in order that you can make a most advantageous marriage!’

  Natalya shook her head, all desire to laugh gone. ‘I do not think that can be the case. Else why did they discourage Lord Austwick from making me an offer? He is as rich as Croesus and an earl to boot. And why am I to have all these extra lessons? Music, French and Italian. Russian history, to say nothing of the geometry and philosophy and all the other things I studied while at school! No woman is educated to this level merely to become a wife!’

  Jane thought that a very good joke and she said nothing more, knowing her friend would be scandalised if she knew Natalya was in earnest. The disadvantage of receiving such an extensive education was that one learned a great many things that were usually kept hidden from young ladies. At school, Natalya’s tutors had been happy to feed her voracious reading habits, with the result that she knew a great deal more about the ways of the world, including the fact that many otherwise respectable gentlemen had liaisons with women other than their wives.

  Marriage was a commercial matter; mistresses were for enjoyment. Many men set up a mistress and kept her in luxury, merely to amuse and entertain them. At the select and very expensive educational establishment where she had spent her childhood, several girls were openly acknowledged as the children of one or more noble parents, but born out of wedlock.

  Natalya suspected she was the product of such a liaison, even though no one had ever spoken of it. With the happy optimism of youth, she had not thought too deeply about it, until the past two years, when she had begun to attend balls and assemblies.

  ‘You must learn how to go on in society,’ Mr Pridham had told her. ‘You need to know how to dance and converse and to be at ease in company.’

  And she had learned. She enjoyed the company and the dancing, but it was not long before she realised she was different. She became painfully aware that, with the exception of elderly Mrs Ancrum and the Grishams, she was tolerated, rather than widely accepted by the high sticklers of Bath society. That did not discompose her, neither did the lack of friends worry her, for she was far too busy to feel lonely, but whereas most chaperons actively encouraged their charges to attract the attentions of eligible gentlemen, the Pridhams went out of their way to keep potential suitors at bay. She wondered why that should be and just what her aunt and uncle had planned for her.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Mrs Grisham came up to them in a rustle of silken skirts.

  ‘Now, now, girls, what are you doing, sitting here with your heads together? That is no way to attract dancing partners! Jane, here is Mr Carrey come to beg the pleasure of your company for the next dance.’ She gestured to the young man beside her, who flushed slightly.

  ‘Yes, indeed, Miss Grisham, if you would do me the honour?’

  ‘Off you go now, Jane, and I shall sit here and keep Miss Fairchild company.’ With a good-natured laugh she took her daughter’s place beside Natalya and patted her hand. ‘Well, well, my dear, ’tis a sad crush in here tonight, and no mistake, but if you sit up straight, my dear, and smile, I am sure you will not have to wait long for a partner. I do not know what Alice Pridham is doing, letting you skulk in a corner like this.’

  ‘My aunt is with her friends, ma’am, and I slipped away to talk to Jane.’

  Mrs Grisham tutted. ‘That is no way to get yourself noticed.’

  ‘Really, ma’am, I am very happy to sit here.’

  ‘Nonsense. A young thing like you should be on the dance floor and giving us the pleasure of seeing you tripping about!’ She glanced up and ended with a note of satisfaction, ‘And we shall not have to wait much longer for that pleasure, I fancy!’

  Mr Pridham was approaching, accompanied by a stranger whose appearance was drawing admiring glances from the ladies as he crossed the room. If the gentleman was aware of the stir he was creating, he showed no sign of it. His style was not flamboyant, but he had an understated elegance, from his light brown hair, cut fashionably short and gleaming in the candlelight, to the toes of his dancing shoes. Natalya could find no fault with his appearance. His dark coat fitted without a crease across his broad shoulders, the white waistcoat was buttoned smoothly over his flat stomach while tight breeches and silk stockings clung to long, powerful legs.

  Closer inspection showed his lean countenance was undeniably handsome but he was not smiling and his dark brows were drawn together, as if he was here for duty rather than pleasure. Natalya noticed, too, that her uncle was behaving oddly. Never a genial man, he was decidedly ill at ease as he performed the introductions.

  ‘Natalya, my dear. Lord Dalmorren is wishful to dance with you.’

  Dalmorren. She had heard the name before, but where? She looked again at his countenance. He looked familiar, but it was
a fleeting impression and she dismissed it as a mere fancy.

  The gentleman bowed. ‘I would be honoured if you would stand up with me, Miss Fairchild.’

  Natalya thought his satin waistcoat and the intricately tied cravat hinted at a man of fashion. A man of ease and pleasure. Yet his voice was as serious as his demeanour and she could read nothing from his hard, slate-grey eyes. She was even more intrigued.

  With a faint smile of acceptance, she rose and placed her fingers on his proffered arm. The fine wool sleeve was soft as silk to the touch, but beneath she was aware of iron hard muscle. Perhaps he was a sportsman, more at home in the saddle than the ballroom. That might account for his rather cold manner. However, when they began to dance, his lithe grace sent a frisson of pleasure running through her and Natalya’s heart gave a little skip. She spent most of her time dancing with awkward young men or elderly friends of the Pridhams. It was pleasant, for once, to have such an accomplished partner. Her curiosity in the man grew.

  ‘Are you newly come to Bath, my lord?’ she ventured.

  ‘I arrived in Bath two days ago.’

  His reply was curt, but she excused him since the movement of the dance was about to separate them. When they came back together, she tried again.

  ‘You are perhaps an acquaintance of my uncle?’

  ‘I never met him before in my life.’ Natalya looked at him in surprise and he continued, ‘The Master of Ceremonies introduced us. I wanted to dance with you, you see.’

  He smiled suddenly and she almost missed a step. Quickly she dragged her gaze away from him. She felt winded by the effect that smile had upon her. It transformed his face, warming his eyes, inviting her to smile back. It was a new experience for Natalya. She was at once frightened and excited. Exhilarated. Heavens, so this was the sensation that changed females from rational beings into simpering, giggling idiots. She had always scoffed when other girls had spoken of it and now here she was, blushing and tongue-tied merely because a man had smiled at her.

  ‘How, how flattering,’ was all she could manage to utter.

  Thankfully, they separated again and she assumed what she hoped was a look of polite enjoyment. It was not only to cover her confusion. Aunt and Uncle Pridham did not like her to show interest in any gentleman and they would be closely watching her progress with Lord Dalmorren.

  * * *

  After two dances, Tristan led his partner off the floor, wondering what Freddie saw in Miss Natalya Fairchild. True, she danced gracefully and she had a dark beauty, no doubt about it. She was a little taller than average and her figure was good. Her complexion was flawless and the hair piled upon her head shone like a raven’s wing. Freddie was wrong about her eyes, though, he thought now. They were not black, but a deep, deep brown.

  But for all that she lacked personality. She had made nothing but commonplace utterances during their time together. No different from the debutantes one came across in town. Tristan began to feel the familiar ennui creeping over him. In other circumstances he would bow, walk away and forget the chit, but Freddie had declared this was the woman he wanted to marry and, if he was to blurt this out to his doting mother, Katherine would immediately apply to Tristan as joint guardian for advice. Clearly, then, he must discover something he could pass on.

  He glanced now at the young lady on his arm, trying to be charitable. Perhaps she was shy. When he had observed her from across the room she had looked animated enough, talking and laughing with her friend, but it was possible she was overawed by the occasion and needed to grow a little accustomed to his presence.

  ‘Perhaps, Miss Fairchild, you would do me the honour of standing up with me again before the end of the evening.’

  ‘Alas, my lord, that is not possible. My aunt and uncle do not allow me more than two dances with anyone.’

  ‘I see. Very commendable. Then I shall call upon you in the morning.’

  She showed no sign of being flattered by his attentions. There were no maidenly blushes, merely a slight inclination of the head and a cool response.

  ‘Mrs Pridham will be delighted to see you, I am sure, but you will not find me at home. I shall be at my drawing lesson tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Later in the day, then.’

  ‘I shall be studying astronomy.’

  ‘Wednesday?’

  ‘I have dancing lessons in the morning and botany in the afternoon. And Thursday,’ she added, after an infinitesimal pause, ‘I study politics, currently Russia’s part in the recent wars.’

  Tristan bit back an oath, but not quite quickly enough, and she gave a choke of laughter.

  ‘Oh, dear! Pray do not take it personally, my lord. I am telling you nothing but the truth. My days are indeed very busy.’

  ‘If you are trying to discourage me, Miss Fairchild, you are succeeding admirably!’

  ‘I am? Oh, dear. I am speaking no more than the truth. My aunt and uncle are eager that I should continue to improve my mind. I play chess regularly, too.’ She looked up at him, dispelling any notion that she was shy. ‘Does the idea of an educated female frighten you, my lord?’

  Her face was alive with mischief and he felt a sudden drumbeat of alarm.

  By heaven, that look is enchanting! It is no wonder Freddie is smitten.

  He wanted to respond, to continue the conversation, but Mrs Pridham came bustling up.

  ‘Ah, Natalya. There you are, my dear!’

  He saw the laughter fade from those dark eyes as her aunt took her arm.

  ‘Have you forgotten this next dance is promised to Lord Fossbridge?’ Mrs Pridham turned to Tristan, bestowing on him a smile that was somewhat forced. ‘I am sorry I must carry her away, my lord, but you understand how it is.’

  In his mind he quickly sorted through the persons Mr King had presented to him that evening. If he remembered correctly, Fossbridge was an aged fellow, old enough to be Natalya’s grandfather. Certainly not his rival. Or rather, not Freddie’s rival, he corrected himself. His interest in Miss Fairchild was purely on behalf of his nephew.

  He bowed. ‘I understand perfectly, ma’am. However…’ Mrs Pridham halted and gave him an enquiring look ‘…Miss Fairchild has been telling me of her interest in astronomy. May I be so bold as to invite you both—and Mr Pridham, naturally—to join me as my guests at Mr Walker’s lecture this Friday? It is to be held at the Exhibition Rooms in Bond Street. As you know, ma’am, I am newly arrived in Bath and to attend such an event alone…’

  He let the words hang, his tone of voice and expression inviting her to sympathise with him. As he had hoped, Mrs Pridham was flustered, torn between a flat refusal and wanting to oblige him.

  ‘Why—why, that is very kind of you, my lord. We had not thought. That is—’

  Tristan cut in ruthlessly. ‘I am delighted that you have accepted, ma’am, thank you. I shall call at Sydney Place in good time to convey you all to the lecture.’

  With a smile and a bow, he walked away before she could say more. Now all he had to do was to recall where the devil he had seen the advertisement for the lecture and obtain tickets, which at this late stage might require him to pay out an extortionate amount to persuade someone to give up their seats. He would also need to hire a carriage grand enough and large enough to convey them all to the Exhibition Rooms. The Dalmorren travelling chaise would not do at all, since it could not accommodate more than two persons.

  His eyes narrowed slightly and he muttered grimly, ‘I hope you appreciate what I am doing for you, Freddie. And I hope she is worth it!’

  CHAPTER TWO

  On Friday evening, Natalya dutifully made her way to her aunt’s bedchamber at the front of the house for approval. She stood for a moment, regarding herself in the cheval mirror, then turned about so quickly that the skirts of her pink muslin flew out like an umbrella.

  ‘Well, Aunt, will I do?’

  S
he threw a slightly defiant look at Mrs Pridham, who was watching her with a critical eye.

  ‘Very pretty, my dear,’ she said at last.

  Natalya put a hand to the lace shawl that covered her shoulders.

  ‘Do I really need to wear a fichu? The neckline is very modest.’

  ‘Your uncle and I would prefer you not to draw the attention of all and sundry tonight.’

  ‘Really, Aunt, I am at a loss to know why you buy me fashionable gowns, if you do not wish me to attract attention.’

  ‘You need to learn all the graces, my dear, and that includes how to dress to advantage.’

  ‘But why, ma’am?’ Natalya pressed her. ‘For what role am I being prepared?’

  ‘Why, to be a lady, my dear, what else?’ Her aunt’s eyes slid away from Natalya’s questioning look. ‘Goodness, is that the time? Lord Dalmorren will be here soon and I have not yet finished my preparations. Oh, well, Mr Pridham must entertain him, when he comes!’

  ‘I could go down, Aunt, since I am ready.’ Natalya knew her suggestion would be rejected, but she made it all the same.

  ‘Without a chaperon? Good heavens, no.’

  ‘But why not? He can hardly seduce me in your drawing room, with servants just outside the door.’

  ‘This is no time for frivolity, Natalya,’ was the crisp reply. ‘A young lady can never be too careful about her reputation, especially one in your situation. Now, enough chattering. Off you go to your room and let me get on.’

  Natalya left her, but instead of returning to her room she paused on the landing, staring out of the window, across the street towards the lush green of Sydney Gardens. It made no sense. Her education had been equal, if not better than most young men would receive, Bath’s finest modistes supplied her gowns with no thought to the cost, but she could not see that the purpose of this was to find her a husband.

  When she had left school and joined the Pridhams in Bath she had been seventeen years old, eager and excited about the future. She had asked them if she was to have a London Season, only to be told that it was not necessary. They had given no reason, merely told her that Bath held sufficient amusements. Amusements, yes, but to what end? She had spent the last four years in Bath and any gentleman who showed the slightest interest in her was positively discouraged.

 

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