Is this it?she thought, her heartbeat speeding up.Is this how it starts? Was this what it was like for Mama?
She exhaled shakily, biting back a smile. He had seemed drawn toher, too. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking? Where had the rush of anxiety come from?
Suddenly, she realised that her mother was speaking to her.
“In future,” Bridget was saying, “you’ll stay by my side, or with female friends. It’s not proper for a lady to wander across a ballroom without any sort of escort of company. This is my fault; you weren’t to know. London Society is much different from what you are used to in the country, and the rules are much more stringent. This isserious. Pippa, are you listening?”
“Of course,” she responded mechanically. “I am enjoying myself, Mama.”
Bridget threw a quick, fond glance over her shoulder. “Well, I’m glad,” she muttered. It was the first kind look and word Pippa had received from her mother since before they’d left home to visit their relatives, and the shock of it jolted her out of her reverie and almost drove the picture of Lord Whitmore from her mind.
“However,” Bridget continued, ruining the moment, “parties like this and the Season are not forenjoying. We have work to do, and connections to make. Now. Let’s introduce you to Lord Barwick, and quickly. Supper will be called at any moment.”
Pippa bit back a sigh.
Abruptly, they were there, in a spacious little corner with Lord Barwick and his mother staring down at Pippa like eagles inspecting a rabbit.
“Lord Barwick, Lady Barwick, it’s an honour,” Bridget fluted, making a neat curtsey which Pippa nearly forgot to copy. “This is my daughter, Miss Pippa Randall.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Lord Barwick murmured, gaze raking her up and down appreciatively. Lady Henrietta Barwick seemed less impressed.
“Rather thin,” she remarked, half to herself and half to her son. “Do you not feed her, Lady Randall?”
“I think Miss Randall is a very pretty sort of girl, Mother,” Lord Barwick said, shooting Pippa a benevolent smile. “Very pretty indeed.”
Lady Henrietta pursed her lips in obvious disagreement. “Well, Miss Randall, tell us all about yourself. Do you play the pianoforte? What a silly question, of course you do. And watercolours, do you…”
“I do play a little the piano,” Pippa interrupted, suddenly desperate not to have her meagre accomplishments trotted out for inspection beneath the Barwicks bead little eyes. “But I prefer to play the violin.”
There was a brief silence, during which Lady Henrietta’s disapproving gaze grew heavier.
“Violin? Not a very ladylike instrument, in my opinion,” she said, as if her opinion was the only one that mattered. “I daresay you did not have opportunity to learn the harp, which is a much more appropriate stringed instrument. But then, I suppose allowances must be made, considering what sort of education your father must have been able to give you. Rather poor, I imagine.”
Pippa felt herself bristling. “My father gave me the best education I could wish for,” she said sharply, tugging away her arm when Bridget tried to take her wrist. “I could have learned the harp, if I wished it, but I didn’t. I wanted to learn the violin, with my Papa, and so I did.”
There was a brief silence after this. Lady Henrietta was stone-faced, but her son appeared to be holding back laughter.
“You give your opinion very decidedly,” Lady Henrietta said at last, voice hard. “I am not sure I can approve of that.”
Pippa lifted her chin. “I am not sure I requested your approval, Lady Barwick.”
The woman’s expression turned thunderous, but before she could say another word, or before Pippa could say something else to destroy her reputation further, supper was announced, and the guests began to end their conversations and file out into the hall, and from there to the dining room.
Bridget made a perfunctory curtsey, snatched up her daughter’s arm, and marched her away.
“That,” she hissed, “was not very funny, Pippa.”
“I was not trying to be funny, Mama. Lady Barwick was very rude.”
“Nonsense. She is a grown woman, a dowager – like me – and she is looking upon you as a potential daughter-in-law. Of course, she is strict and serious about the matter. But now, didn’t you think that Lord Barwick was handsome?”
Pippa’s heart sank. “He is not ugly or plain, Mama, but I do not feel drawn to him.”
Bridget sighed in exasperation. “Goodness, as if that matters in the least. And here I thought you would be pleased at having such a handsome man show interest in you. I chose him carefully, you know. He’s only a little older than you, and very good looking.”
“Perhaps you should marry him, then, Mama, if you think that he’s so handsome,” Pippa muttered, and received an elbow in her ribs.
“Enough of that insolence,” Bridget muttered tartly. “Now, you will be sitting next to Lord Barwick at the table, so be sure to be on your best behaviour, and bring out your finest manners. Don’t eat too much, but don’t sit there with an empty plate – it’ll look odd. Be sure to ask him lots of questions about himself, and be very interested in the answers.”
