Someone very like Tristan Quintrell, in fact.
No! She must not think of him.
* * *
Natalya was obliged to tell herself the same thing several times over the next few days, for he remained stubbornly in her head and no amount of study could dislodge him. When she picked up her book on astronomy, she recalled sitting beside him at the lecture and their all-too-brief discussions on the subject. When she had her dancing lesson, she remembered his lithe grace at the Assembly Rooms, and when she joined the Grishams for a nature ramble with their old governess she found her thoughts wandering off. She wondered if His Lordship was still in Bath. If he would look for her in vain at that evening’s Dress Ball, which the Pridhams had decided it was not necessary to attend.
* * *
Waking to an overcast sky and steady rain did nothing to lift Natalya’s spirits the next morning. The day stretched before her. Friday was designated a study day, when she would read various informative works, usually of history or philosophy, and discuss them with Mr Pridham. They had read Voltaire and Rousseau together in French. More recently she had finished Mrs Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, which had not been one of Mr Pridham’s recommendations, and she was now making her way through all six volumes of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, but even the thought of Mr Gibbon’s very readable work could not make her look forward to the day with any great enthusiasm and it was with relief that she received an invitation to go out.
Aggie brought the note to Natalya while she was breaking her fast in her room and she lost no time in seeking out her aunt and uncle. She found them in the drawing room, engaged in their usual morning pursuits; Mr Pridham reading the newspaper aloud to his wife while she worked at her embroidery.
‘Good morning, Aunt, Uncle.’
Mr Pridham put down his newspaper and nodded towards the sheet of paper in her hand.
‘Ah. Mrs Ancrum’s invitation to you to take tea with her.’
‘Yes.’ Natalya was aware that all correspondence was taken first to her uncle and she pushed aside the familiar spurt of irritation. ‘As you are aware, sir, she asks if I might be permitted to remain for dinner, too, if I am not engaged.’ She looked to her aunt. ‘May I accept, ma’am? If we have no other engagements this evening, then there is no need for me to hurry back.’
She waited hopefully. Mrs Ancrum was one of the few people in Bath of whom Mr and Mrs Pridham approved and she was relieved but not surprised when, after a glance at her husband, Mrs Pridham agreed she might go.
‘Thank you!’ Natalya beamed at her. ‘If the rain has stopped, then Aggie can walk there with me, but she need not remain. Mrs Ancrum says she will send me home in her own carriage after dinner.’
‘I hope you will manage an hour at the pianoforte before you go out,’ put in Mr Pridham, glancing at the clock. ‘Mrs Ancrum’s patronage is important for you, my dear, and you must not neglect her, but you must work on your accomplishments, too. Especially now.’
Natalya looked up and was about to enquire what he meant by the last remark when her aunt came forward and touched her arm.
‘Well, well, that is a treat for you, Natalya. When you go, you must be sure to give Mrs Ancrum our regards. Now, what do you say to practising your music this morning, my dear? I have an hour free to sit with you while you play and you know how much I enjoy listening to you. Shall we go to the drawing room now?’
* * *
It was less than a mile from Sydney Place to the Paragon, where Mrs Ancrum lived in some style. Natalya’s maid waited only until her mistress had been admitted to the house before walking on to Milsom Street to carry out an errand for Mrs Pridham. Natalya breathed a sigh of relief. Whenever she left the house her aunt insisted she should be escorted by her maid or a footman and if she joined her friends it was on the understanding that they were similarly accompanied. Her visits to the Paragon were the only ones where she felt she was not under constant surveillance.
She was shown into the drawing room where she found Mrs Ancrum alone and sitting in her favourite wing chair beside the fire.
‘No, no, pray do not get up on my account, ma’am,’ she said, crossing the room and planting a kiss upon her hostess’s faded cheek.
The old lady’s hand came up briefly to touch her shoulder. ‘Bless you, child, you are like a ray of sunshine!’
Natalya blushed and turned away the compliment with a laugh.
‘That is because, despite the rain earlier this morning, it is such a warm day and my face is glowing from the exertion of walking here! But how are you, ma’am? In prime twig, I see. Pomona-green suits you, it matches your eyes.’
‘Flatterer. Now, ring the bell, my love. We shall have tea and catch up on all the gossip. Why, it must be a full week since I have seen you.’
* * *
The afternoon passed pleasantly with no lull in the conversation. Mrs Ancrum gave her young friend a spirited account of all she had done and seen since they had last met and, as she did not believe in holding back her opinions, Natalya was vastly entertained by her comic descriptions of the people she had seen at the Pump Room.
‘Overdressed frights, for the most part,’ declared Mrs Ancrum, with a blatant disregard for the garishly coloured flounces and ribbons of red and purple that adorned her own gown. ‘And the Conyers were there, Mrs Conyer wearing another of her eye-catching gowns. Bright yellow silk with so many frills and flounces I swear she looked just like a dandelion! And it is not at all helped by the fact that she is as broad as she is tall!’
‘No, no, you are too cruel, ma’am,’ Natalya protested, laughing. ‘She is a most agreeable lady. Always cheerful, which, considering her health, is a virtue, I think. Such a generous nature, too. I can overlook her bright colours because she is always so kind when we meet.’
‘And why should she not be kind to you?’ exclaimed Mrs Ancrum, bridling.
‘Not everyone thinks as highly of me as you, ma’am,’ said Natalya, blushing a little.
‘Well, they should!’ came the gruff retort. ‘And their son was here in the spring, was he not? I remember he came with them, once, to the Pump Room.’
‘Yes, Mr Gore Conyer. A very pleasant gentleman.’
Mrs Ancrum helped herself to another small cake and said casually, ‘He had a friend with him, I believe. A Mr Erwin. Handsome young buck, if I recall. I believe you danced with him, Natalya.’
‘I danced with both gentlemen, ma’am.’ Natalya eyed her hostess warily, wondering where this was leading.
‘But I hear you found Mr Erwin the more agreeable?’ Mrs Ancrum laughed. ‘Oh, do not poker up, Natalya, you know I am one for plain speaking.’
‘So, too, am I and I should like to know what has brought on this sudden interest in Freddie Erwin!’
‘I met his uncle earlier this week. Lord Dalmorren. He was asking about you.’
‘He had no right to do so!’
‘He appears to think you and his nephew are in love.’
Natalya blushed furiously, which only added to her indignation. ‘Ooh, how dare he, when I expressly told him it is nothing of the sort!’
‘If you showed such vehemence in your response then he may well have thought the lady doth protest too much,’ murmured the old woman, her shrewd eyes fixed on her young guest. She laughed suddenly. ‘Now drink your tea, my love, and calm yourself. Then you can tell me everything.’
‘There is nothing to tell,’ replied Natalya. ‘Freddie Erwin is a pleasant young man and we danced together several times. He and Mr Conyer joined one or two of the outings got up by the Grishams, but there were plenty of other young ladies present besides Jane Grisham and myself. Verena Summerton and Laura Spinhurst, to name but two of them.’
‘Then why should Lord Dalmorren be asking about you?’
Natalya put down her cup. Th
e old lady was too shrewd to believe any prevarication.
She said, ‘He saw a drawing I had done of Mr Erwin. Not a good one, but…flattering. He thinks it shows I have formed a…a tendre for his nephew but it is nothing of the kind. I merely kept it because it was better than most of the portraits I have attempted.’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘It is true that Freddie and I became friends, but you will not be surprised to know that my aunt and uncle did everything they could to discourage him from calling.’
‘In my opinion, there is nothing more likely to aid a love affair than opposition.’
The old lady was watching her closely, but Natalya merely smiled and said with perfect sincerity, ‘Not in this case, ma’am. When Mr Erwin left Bath, we parted with nary a pang. At least,’ she added, her brow furrowed, ‘not on my side.’
‘And if the young man has formed an attachment, do you think you could return his regard?’
Natalya hesitated.
‘Marriage to an agreeable man would be a way of escaping the stifling care of the Pridhams,’ she said slowly. ‘But it is not to be considered. They will never agree to it.’
‘In a few weeks you will be one-and-twenty, Natalya. You will not need their consent.’
‘True.’ Natalya stared at her hands for a long moment. ‘I wish I knew why my aunt and uncle are so protective. Why they discourage every gentleman who even looks at me! They insist I am a lady, there is no curb on the amount they spend on my clothes and my education, and yet…’ She fixed her eyes on Mrs Ancrum. ‘We have never spoken of it, but I think, I believe, you know something of my parents, ma’am. I pray you will tell me!’
The old lady threw up her hands. ‘Do not ask me, my love, I do not know anything. The Pridhams are good, respectable people, if a little Puritan in their outlook. Have they not promised they will explain everything to you on your birthday?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘There you are then! In the meantime, if young Mr Erwin is indeed serious in his intentions, if he loves you, then your lineage will not matter in the least.’
Natalya shook her head. ‘I wish I could believe you, ma’am, but I know it is not the case. Every book, every guide on genteel living I have ever read says differently. If I should turn out to be, to be a—’
‘Do not even think of it!’ Mrs Ancrum interrupted quickly. ‘I cannot believe the Pridhams would have introduced you into Bath society if there was anything amiss with your birth. They are merely being over-diligent in their protection of you. No, this Mr Erwin would be a good match for any young lady and you would be wise not to discourage him. And to that end, you should not antagonise his uncle!’
At the mention of Lord Dalmorren, Natalya gave a long sigh.
‘I am afraid it is too late for that, ma’am. Our last encounter ended very badly. He can have no wish to continue the acquaintance now.’
Mrs Ancrum chuckled. ‘Then you have an opportunity to make it up with him, for he is coming here for dinner tonight!’
* * *
Mrs Ancrum’s maid showed Natalya up to the guest room, where she washed her face and hands and sat down at the mirror to tidy her hair before dinner.
‘I should have gone home,’ she told her reflection. ‘When she told me she had invited Lord Dalmorren to dinner, I should have left the house immediately.’
Instead she had allowed herself to be persuaded to remain. Mrs Ancrum had told her the Grishams were coming, too, together with their son and daughter.
‘You know I enjoy the company of young people,’ she had said. ‘It is just a little party, with my old friend Colonel Yatton invited to make us an even number at dinner, but nothing to displease your aunt and uncle. No dancing, of course, although I hope I might persuade you and Jane to play for us. You are such a clever puss, your accomplishments alone should convince Lord Dalmorren that you are an eligible match for his nevvy!’
Natalya put down her hairbrush and stared into the mirror—she did not want to be an eligible match for Freddie Erwin. She knew Freddie was not the reason she had decided to stay. It was Tristan. She berated herself for using his name, even in her thoughts, but she could not stop the dizzying swoop of her insides at the prospect of seeing him again.
‘It is merely because our last meeting ended so unsatisfactorily,’ she told herself as she pinched her cheeks to provide a little more colour. ‘One should never part on a quarrel.’
She sat back, turning her head this way and that to study her reflection. If she had known there were to be guests, she would have worn something a little more dashing than her periwinkle-blue sprigged muslin.
‘But if Mrs Ancrum’s note had mentioned that there would be guests,’ she told her reflection, ‘Aunt Pridham would have refused to let me come!’
There was a knock on the door and Mrs Ancrum’s maid peeped in.
‘The mistress says to tell you she has gone down to the drawing room, miss.’
‘Thank you.’
Natalya rose and shook out her skirts, then, with a final glance at her reflection, she straightened her shoulders and hurried down the stairs.
* * *
Mrs Ancrum’s oldest friend, Colonel Yatton, arrived first, followed by the Grishams, who bustled in with all the energy and goodwill of a happy family. Mr and Mrs Grisham greeted Natalya in their usual friendly fashion, their son Henry bowed over her hand while Jane squealed with delight and hugged her.
‘What a wonderful surprise, Natalya, I did not know you were to be here tonight.’
‘That is because I was not sure she would be,’ Mrs Ancrum replied for her.
‘Well, we are very pleased Mr and Mrs Pridham could spare you,’ put in Mrs Grisham, smiling at Natalya.
Lord Dalmorren entered and was greeted cheerfully by his hostess, who advised him not to stand upon ceremony, but to come in and join them all.
‘Just an impromptu little dinner, my lord,’ she said, giving him her hand. ‘You know everyone, I believe.’
‘I do, ma’am, thank you.’
He glanced around, nodding to everyone and finally turning to Natalya.
‘Miss Fairchild.’
She made her curtsy, determined not to blush under the scrutiny of those hard grey eyes, trying not to think how well he looked, immaculate in black tailcoat and light-coloured breeches, a diamond winking from the folds of his snowy cravat. She knew a moment’s panic when she thought he might approach, but his attention was claimed by the Colonel and the gentlemen were all soon engrossed in a conversation which lasted until it was time to go in to dinner.
* * *
Mrs Ancrum was an excellent hostess and conversation flowed between her guests as readily as the wine that accompanied the meal. Natalya was relieved to be seated at a distance from Lord Dalmorren, but she was contrary enough to wish he might occasionally look her way. A foolish idea and impolite, too. How odd it would look if he ignored his immediate neighbours to stare at her! She dragged her attention back to her end of the table and threw herself into an animated discussion on the merits of Lord Byron’s poems.
At the end of the meal, Mrs Ancrum rose and invited the ladies to accompany her to the drawing room, where Jane carried Natalya off to the sofa, leaving her mother and their hostess to occupy the chairs flanking the fire.
‘Have you made up your differences with Lord Dalmorren?’ Jane whispered. ‘He seems very agreeable this evening.’
‘I am sure he has forgotten that silly incident.’ Natalya tried to pass it off with a laugh. ‘He did not like my drawing of his nephew, that is all.’
‘The sketch you made of Mr Erwin, when he came to Bath in February?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. We were all agreed at the time that it was not very good.’
‘I remember it now; you were very cross with yourself for not being able to capture his true likeness.’ Jane’s brow cleared. ‘That
explains everything. From His Lordship’s conversation with Mama at dinner, one can tell he is extremely attached to his family. Although, it was very wrong of him to disparage your drawing,’ she added quickly. ‘And he should not have been angry if you took offence at his criticism. It was very rude to storm off without a word of farewell.’
‘He did not storm off,’ Natalya protested. ‘I…um… I think perhaps he was late for an engagement.’
Natalya was uncomfortable that her friend should think ill of Lord Dalmorren. He had misconstrued the situation between herself and his nephew, but that was not entirely his fault. However, it was impossible to explain it all to Jane and Natalya did not try. Instead she turned the subject and chattered on about fashions and the weather until the gentlemen came in.
Mrs Ancrum called to them from her place by the fire.
‘I am glad you did not linger over your brandy. I have promised to return Miss Fairchild to her home by midnight.’
‘Indeed?’ cried Mr Grisham, glancing towards the clock. ‘Then we should waste no time in asking the young ladies to entertain us with music!’
A short discussion ensued as to who should play first and at last Natalya was persuaded.
When she walked over to the pianoforte, Lord Dalmorren followed, saying he would move the candles for her.
‘Home by midnight?’ he murmured as she took her seat at the pianoforte. ‘Just like Cinderella.’
She ignored that, but she could not resist muttering, ‘I hope you will find my playing more acceptable than my painting.’
‘That rankled, did it?’ She saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘I beg your pardon. To own the truth, I thought your drawing was very good. It was the subject matter that concerned me.’
‘My lord, I assure you there is no reason why it should,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I have no designs upon your nephew.’
‘Perhaps it is more that Freddie has designs upon you.’
She could read nothing from his tone or his grey eyes but mild amusement. Her heart lifted as she ran her fingers over the keys and began to play. They were no longer at odds and she was surprised how much that pleased her.
Harlequin Historical May 2020--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 27
