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‘Gervase, I insist that you call me Felicia, and of course you may have as many tickets as you wish. I hope you are bringing someone who appreciates opera.’
He smiled. ‘It would be an insult to your talent to do anything less.’
Claude picked up his glass of champagne and raised it in a toast. ‘To my beautiful and talented wife.’
Gervase saluted Felicia and Nancy joined in dutifully. She could not help thinking that Claude and the rest of the opera company were partly to blame for Felicia taking advantage of her prima donna status. Felicia de Marney was spoiled and probably had been since birth. Nancy sighed, but her attention was diverted by the appearance of a young man who stood to attention at her side.
‘G-Gervase, w-will you be good enough to introduce me to your partner? I w-would really like to ask her for the next dance.’
He spoke with a slight stammer, which Nancy found oddly endearing. Despite the fact that his evening clothes were well cut and obviously expensive, she could imagine him looking more at ease in tweeds and riding breeches. His fair skin was tanned by the sun, making his blue eyes look even more arresting. He was a complete contrast to Gervase, who was every inch the man about town, polished, handsome and dressed in the latest fashion.
‘I didn’t know you were here, Freddie,’ Gervase slapped him on the back. ‘Of course, I’ll do the honours. Miss Nancy Sunday, may I introduce my good friend, Viscount Ashton, or Freddie, as those of us who know him call him?’
Felicia eyed the young man over the rim of her champagne flute. ‘Are you Lord Dorrington’s son?’
Freddie inclined his head in a bow. ‘Yes, ma’am. I – I know wh-who you are, of course.’
‘Everyone knows Mrs de Marney,’ Nancy said hastily. ‘How do you do, sir?’
‘You call him “my lord”,’ Felicia said hastily.
Freddie laughed and his shyness seemed to vanish. ‘No, really. Call me Freddie, everyone else does. May I have this dance, Miss Sunday?’
Nancy liked him instantly. He was above average in height, and he held himself as if he were on the parade ground. She smiled inwardly, wondering if the sons of the nobility had to undergo deportment tuition as she had at the Academy. However, his blue eyes were clear and honest as the Devonshire summer skies and although he might not be described as classically handsome, he had good features and a charming smile.
‘I’d be delighted, Freddie.’
‘No good will come of it, Claude,’ Felicia said just loud enough for Nancy to hear. ‘She’s a foundling and he’s the son of an earl. You must put a stop to it immediately.’
Chapter Eight
Freddie led Nancy into an energetic polka, followed by a quadrille and then a waltz. Freddie was not a particularly good dancer, but Nancy found this oddly comforting and they giggled like schoolchildren when they forgot the steps of a country dance.
‘I think it’s time we made room for the good dancers,’ Nancy said, laughing.
‘Maybe we should get some refreshment, but I have to t-tell you, N-Nancy, that I haven’t enjoyed a b-ball so much ever.’ Freddie’s smile was so genuine that Nancy wanted to give him a hug, but that would never do and she simply nodded.
‘Actually, Freddie, this is my first grand ball. I’ve attended smaller functions in the country, but never one in London.’
‘I usually avoid them,’ Freddie confessed, ‘but tonight I c-couldn’t think of an excuse and now I’m glad. L-let’s get some supper and a glass of champagne.’
Nancy craned her neck to get a glimpse of Felicia, who was surrounded by admirers. ‘I’m not supposed to leave Mrs de Marney’s side in case she needs anything.’
‘She’s busy at the moment. You need some time off, Nancy. We’ll sneak into the refreshment room together.’
Nancy smiled. It was the first whole sentence that Freddie had managed without stuttering and she did not want to spoil the moment.
‘On your head be it, Lord Ashton.’
He grinned. ‘Just Freddie, please.’
‘All right, Freddie. I’m feeling quite reckless, but if Felicia grumbles I will blame you.’
‘Precisely.’ Freddie linked arms and they made their way to the refreshment room, where they were amongst the first to take their seats. They ate the delicious food and drank champagne, chatting as if they were old friends. Freddie, as Nancy had guessed, was a countryman at heart and he spoke lovingly of the family country seat on the Devonshire and Dorset border.
‘W-we’re almost neighbours,’ Freddie said eagerly. ‘It’s less than a day’s ride to Exeter. I b-believe Rockwood is not far from there.’
‘Not too far.’ Nancy sipped her glass of punch. ‘I really miss home, Freddie. I know working for Felicia is a wonderful opportunity to see a bit of the world but I love Rockwood Castle, even though I’m not really part of the family.’
