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“Lord Montgomery has invited us to share his family’s box for the event,” her mother cut in cheerfully. “We’re so looking forward to it. Ah, Susette!” she greeted the servant pushing the tea tray. “Come in and help me pour.”
Sabrina sat with growing impatience as her mother spent the next several minutes determining everyone’s preference for cream and sugar, informing her guest that this particular tea was her favorite, and elaborating on its history and fine qualities ad nauseam.
“I can hardly wait to hear the aria. It’s been described as utterly magnificent,” continued her mother, switching back to the initial subject without preamble. “Such a thrill to have fresh, new entertainment.”
Sabrina did her best to keep a cool head, projecting calm and dignity. There Mama sat, chirping like a magpie—and sabotaging her efforts to gain Fairford’s interest.
Luckily, he seemed not to notice. Cool, pleasant, and above all humble, he remained the perfect antidote for Montgomery.
As her thoughts turned to him, her stomach tightened. He would be wroth when he learned of Fairford’s visit. She breathed deeply and forced herself to return to calm nonchalance. There was no reason to worry, after all. She’d made no commitment, no promises. Any anger on his part was purely his own problem, not hers.
“More tea?” she asked Fairford, encouraging him with a smile.
“How is your father?” asked her mother. “Sheffield tells me he has not seen Lord Middleton in some time. He used to play chess with him almost weekly.”
“He is well,” said Fairford, setting down his cup. “A fever he contracted years ago has left him with a weakness of the lungs that has held him prisoner in the house all winter, but the warmer weather we’ve had of late seems to be doing wonders. I shall tell him Sheffield craves a match. Perhaps that will speed his recovery.”
“Please give him my felicitations as well,” her mother added. “Though it is many years since I have seen him, I remember him well.”
“Of course, your ladyship. I expect he will be delighted to greet you at our little soiree.”
“Tell me, my lord, do you play chess?” Sabrina asked.
“Indeed, I am a proficient player,” answered Fairford even as her mother frowned at her from beside him. “And you?”
“It is one of my chief enjoyments,” she replied, happy to finally be establishing common ground with him. “I should very much like a match when next you visit.”
Mama was now shaking her head slightly in warning, but Sabrina needed to know whether Fairford sought a companion or merely an ornamental vessel for his heirs. She would modify her approach according to her observations today.
“Of course, my lady,” he answered. “Your pleasure is mine.”
“Sabrina is quite an accomplished young lady,” her mother interjected. “She excels at all of the arts and is especially gifted in music. I hired the finest teachers in England to tutor all of my girls.”
“Is that so?” said Fairford, seeming genuinely interested. He turned to face her. “What instruments do you play?”
“I am skilled at both the spinet and the flute,” Sabrina responded. “I’ve written several original compositions as well,” she added. “Perhaps you might like to—”
“They really are quite pretty, considering she is an amateur,” cut in her mother, giving her another quelling look.
“I should very much enjoy a recital,” he said. “After our match, of course.”
His answer pleased Sabrina, even though she noted that his smile did not quite reach his eyes. “I would be delighted, my lord.”
When he departed, it was with the promise to call again soon.
“Sabrina, you took a foolish risk, revealing your bluestocking tendencies to a man like him,” said her mother. “You ought to know by now that not every man appreciates a woman’s skill beyond that which is required to keep his home. You’re very lucky it didn’t put him off.”
“I thought you didn’t approve of him?”
“Though his rank is less than I’d hoped, I favor him more than others and less than some,” her mother replied. “At least he isn’t the son of a merchant.”
Well, that’s a mercy, thought Sabrina, relieved. She knew who her mother meant by “some,” of course. Montgomery. But as long as she didn’t disapprove of Fairford, that meant she had a chance. If he came to scratch, that is.
The night of the opera had finally arrived, and she readied herself with great anticipation. The green velvet gown she’d selected would be just right to offset the frilly confection she’d worn the last time Fairford had seen her. Tonight, he would learn she could be sophisticated as well as virtuous.
Donning the lovely thing, she surveyed her reflection, determining that her hair was nowhere near what it should be for a gown this elegant. She bade her maid redo it in a higher style to accentuate the low décolletage. She must look her very best.
Just as it was finished, she heard a commotion below. Montgomery had arrived.
