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‘So I’ll do?’ Theo asked, making a pirouette.
‘Splendidly! I knew you’d be enchanting, once I got you out of those old gowns and that musty habit!’
‘Are you sure it’s not an imposition to bring me when I’ve not been invited?’ Theo asked, grasping at the last available straw to delay her inevitable society début.
‘I sent a note to Jane Staunton this afternoon, telling her you’d arrived unexpectedly, and asking if she’d mind if you came along. She replied that she’d be delighted—especially since she had an unexpected visitor, too. Her nephew, in from the country.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ Theo said drily. ‘He’s a bachelor of good reputation and fortune.’
‘Quite. A widower, with three children a little older than Charles.’
‘On the prowl for a new wife to oversee his brood?’
‘Jane wasn’t sure, but Lord Sayle isn’t fond of London, so she couldn’t see any other reason for him making the journey—especially after he told her he planned to stay for some time.’
Theo tried to summon up some enthusiasm. ‘Charles would like having other children about. What does Lord Sayle do? What could I talk to him about?’
‘Well, he was never in the army.’ Theo’s hopes of finding a congenial conversationalist faded as her aunt continued, ‘He did attend Eton and then Oxford—the New School, not Richard’s college. The barony is very old; his estate is in Kent, and I understand he raises some lovely horses.’
‘Oxford. Horses,’ Theo repeated a bit desperately.
‘Besides, you needn’t worry about conversing. Ask him about his estate; after that, you’ll probably only need to nod and smile.’
Inanely? Theo wondered. Would there be opportunity to add an ‘as you say’?
Reading the anxiety on Theo’s face, her aunt said again, ‘You mustn’t worry! Just be yourself, and the company can’t help but admire you.’
‘Spoken like a true loving aunt,’ Theo said, giving that lady a kiss. ‘But thank you for trying to raise my spirits.’
Lady Coghlane shook her head. ‘Silly girl! Why someone who lived between two armies, survived advances and retreats and poor food and sleeping who knows where, could be in such a panic over a simple dinner party, I can’t imagine!’
‘I knew what to expect in those retreats and advances and billets. I don’t know anything about surviving the London ton.’
‘Just look and listen! You’ll soon find how to get on.’
Taking a deep breath, Theo nodded. She certainly hoped she’d ‘find how’. The consequences of failing to catch an eligible gentleman’s eye were so dire, she couldn’t bear to think about them.
* * *
A short time later, her aunt’s carriage deposited them before a handsome town house in Grosvenor Square. Her heart beat faster as they ascended a wide marble staircase to be announced by the butler to a drawing room full of people.
The room glittered with an array of chattering women whose beautiful gowns in a rainbow of hues were set off against the black coats and pristine white neckcloths of the gentlemen.
How different, the sober attire of civilians, compared to army uniforms in vivid colours with their flashes of gold braid and frogging, she thought, feeling even more out of place.
Then Aunt Amelia was introducing her to her hostess, Lady Staunton, who in turn introduced her to other guests. One of them, Lord Sayle, was the nephew in question, a distinguished-looking man greying at the temples whom Theo judged to be in his late thirties. After murmuring the proper polite phrases, she followed her aunt to a group by the fireplace. Before any further conversation was necessary, the meal was announced and their hostess led them into the dining room.
Theo dreaded the moment she would lose her aunt’s support. As one of the highest-ranking ladies present, Lady Coghlane would be seated beside their host, while the unmarried daughter of an earl’s younger son ranked far down the table.
She hoped their hostess would regale them with some of the delicacies for which she’d heard London was famed, so she might apply herself to her dinner and salvage something enjoyable from the evening. Feeling like a rank recruit who’d stumbled into one of General Wellington’s staff meetings, she couldn’t wait to escape back to Jermyn Street.
Wine was poured, and Theo took a thankful sip, returning the nodded greeting of her dinner partner. Who, wonder of wonders, turned out to be Lord Sayle.
After a few moments of silence, he murmured, ‘I won’t bite, you know.’
Theo started, then laughed. ‘Excuse me, I didn’t mean to be uncivil. I suppose I look as awkward as I feel,’ she admitted—before remembering that candour was not a virtue prized by society.
Her dinner partner didn’t seem offended. ‘You look lovely, as I’m sure you know.’
‘Oh, d-dear,’ she stammered, colouring. ‘I really wasn’t trolling for a compliment.’
‘That’s not at all what I thought. But I’m very happy to give one so well deserved. You’re Miss Branwell, aren’t you? Lady Coghlane’s niece?’
‘Yes. And you’re Lord Sayle, Lady Staunton’s nephew.’
‘Yes. Now that we’ve sorted out the family, what shall we discuss?’
How best to safely answer that? ‘Why not tell me about your estate?’ she answered cautiously.
‘Let’s not talk about something so ordinary!’ He must have read alarm on her face, for he smiled. ‘I shouldn’t tease you. My aunt told me you’ve only recently come to England, having lived your entire life abroad, first in India, then following the drum with your father in Spain, Portugal, and Belgium. Also that he fell at Waterloo. My sincere condolences.’
The reminder brought a sharp pang of loss, no matter how many times it was mentioned. ‘Thank you. I understand you’ve recently lost your wife as well. My sincere sympathies.’
He nodded, his expression turning sad. ‘It was...very distressing. But one soldiers on, as I’m sure you know.’
‘Yes,’ she affirmed, liking him the better for this plain evidence of how fond he’d been of his wife.
Though it was nothing to her attachment to Marshall—or he wouldn’t be in London looking for a replacement, a mere year after her death.
‘Tell me more about your life,’ he was saying. ‘It’s been so much more exciting than mine.’
Dangerous territory, she thought. Struggling for some socially appropriate opening, she finally shrugged. ‘My aunt would say there’s little about it fit to discuss at a dinner party. I’ve recently settled at a manor in Suffolk, and have never visited Kent. I understand you raise horses. Won’t you tell me about your estate?’
Tacitly accepting her reticence, he nodded. ‘Horses, yes. But more cattle and crops.’
‘Some of the land at the estate bordering my house has been much neglected, and the owner is now anxious to improve it.’ Maybe she could learn something of use to Dom.
Dom. A sudden yearning for him filled her, so strong it almost made her dizzy. How she wished she were back at Bildenstone, riding through the meadows with him! How immensely different, the ease and comfort she felt with him, compared to the stiff awkwardness of this dinner party!
Since her searing conversation with Lady Hazlett, she’d deliberately kept herself from thinking about him—and the fact that her marriage would put an end to the friendship between them for good.
Which, of course, was for the best.
She was only uncomfortable because she was not yet well acquainted with this man, she told herself stoutly. Once she got to know Lord Sayle better, it would be easier.
She hoped.
In any event, he seemed pleasant enough as he obligingly described his home and acreage, requiring her only to add that polite nod at intervals.
‘I understand you have three children,’ she said when, inevitably, he fell silent and looked to her for a conversational contribution.
‘Yes. My eldest son is preparing to leave for Eton. I shall sorely miss him, but alas, it’s time. My lovely daughter I trust I shall not have to part from any time soon, since I spoil her so thoroughly no suitor will have her,’ he admitted with a laugh. ‘My younger son is just out of short coats. Rascals all, but I dote on them.’
‘I have a little boy, too, that I’ve cared for since his birth,’ she inserted. If keeping Charles were going to dissuade a prospective suitor, she might as well find out immediately.
‘So my aunt told me,’ he replied. ‘I think it very noble of you, to insist on supporting the poor orphan, even after your father’s death. Infamous that his father’s family refused to recognise him!’
Theo smiled fondly. ‘Had Lord Wareton ever visited Charles, he would not have been able to turn him away. Since I’m completely attached to him, I’m very glad his grandfather never made the effort.’
