“How did you enjoy your first society ball?” Frankie asked with a smile. “Did it live up to your expectations? I will be the first to admit that society’s elite, crammed into an over-warm ballroom, can be a little intimidating when one is not accustomed to the spectacle.”
“It was very interesting.” Seated in the pretty drawing room in the small house in Park Street that Frankie had rented for the season, Katrina returned her friend’s smile. “Similar in so many ways to European balls but also very different. Partly, I suppose, because I was not with Papa, helping to entertain his foreign dignitaries. I didn’t have to watch every word I said and was free to be myself.”
“I am glad you felt that way, about being yourself, I mean.”
Katrina laughed. “Madame would not agree with you. She does not approve of spontaneity. She and Papa are of one mind on the subject.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “I don’t doubt it.” She sat forward and patted Katrina’s knee. “Now, when we attend Almack’s you will see English society at its stuffiest and your European balls might no longer seem quite so staid in comparison. I seldom set foot in the place myself but in order to appreciate its absurdities you must experience it for yourself at least once.”
“I don’t want to put you to the inconvenience. Not if you don’t enjoy it.”
“I enjoy laughing at the way things are done and I enjoy introducing you around, so it will be no hardship.”
“I will admit to a curiosity about the famous place.”
“Just so long as you remember to hold your tongue in front of Lady Jersey.”
Katrina bit back a smile. “I shall do my very best but make no promises. Despite Madame’s best efforts, my tongue has an annoying habit of running away with me at the most inconvenient times.”
“Is it not enough that you have already made yourself unpopular in certain quarters?”
“Me?” Katrina asked, alarmed. “Who did I offend? Were my curtsies not the correct depth? Did I accidentally cut someone important?”
Frankie shook her head, appearing to fight against laughter. “Nothing nearly so trivial.”
“Don’t tease me, Frankie. I so wanted to make a good impression and not be a disappointment to Papa. Word is bound to reach him if I somehow transgressed the rules.” She sat forward, twisting her fingers together as anxiety ate away at her insides. “What did I do?”
“You committed the greatest possible faux pas. You so enchanted Lord Nate that he waltzed with you not once but twice. And he escorted you into supper.”
Katrina’s brow knitted. “He was simply being kind because he knew it was my first society ball since my return to England.” Katrina wrinkled her nose. “I probably looked as out of place as I felt and he took pity on me.”
“Ah, that would explain it.”
“Frankie, stop laughing and tell me why Lord Nate dancing with me twice is such a calamity.”
“He almost never dances. The Sheridan males avoid the pastime as much as possible.”
“The duke waltzed with you.”
“Bah, we are old friends. He feels safe with me.”
“If you say so.” It was Katrina’s turn to smile.
“We are discussing your ability to break the hearts of half the young ladies in the room by engaging the attention of one of the catches of the season.”
“I did no such thing!”
“Well, you may not think so but I can’t remember the last time I saw him waltz.”
“I honestly think he was being kind and he also felt unthreatened by me.”
Frankie burst out laughing. “Good heavens, whatever makes you say such a ridiculous thing?”
“Well, he is very handsome and rich and eligible, that much is certainly true. And I did notice some of the ladies glaring at me. Now I understand why. But I told Lord Nate that I am all but promised to Mr. Brown and so he knew I was not out to ensnare him.”
Frankie shook her head. “I can assure you that all the Sheridan males are perfectly capable of looking out for themselves. There wasn’t an ambitious mother in that ballroom who could have made either Lord Nate or the duke do anything they would prefer not to. Lord Nate felt no need to hide behind your petticoats, my dear. He danced with you because he wished to and most definitely enjoyed your society.”
“I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t serve,” Katrina said, shaking a finger beneath Frankie’s nose and dislodging images of Lord Nate’s smiling face from her imagination with the same gesture.
“You have the advantage of me. I was merely—”
“You were merely trying to divert my natural questions about your relationship with the duke by turning the conversation back to my affairs.” Katrina flashed a knowing smile. “I am not a diplomat’s daughter for nothing.”
Frankie looked down at her hands. “I have no relationship with the duke, other than that of a neighbourly nature.”
“And yet the duke only waltzed once last night and that was with you.”
“He had no choice. Lord Nate had swept you onto the floor and left us standing together.” Frankie shrugged, her attitude a little too casual to deceive Katrina. “I have taken issue with the duke about a number of his activities but have never had occasion to criticise his manners.”
“You know the family well?”
“We are close neighbours. Our paths cross all the time. You will meet more of them yourself when we return to Winchester.”
“I should like that. I enjoyed Lady Romsey’s company.”
“Anna has always been a little wild. Clarence will never completely tame her and I’m glad about that. Anna, on the other hand, is doing a good job of making him take himself less seriously. You know how intense diplomats can be.”
Katrina rolled her eyes. “Only too well.”
“Lady Portia, Anna’s sister and the youngest sibling is different again. She just married the duke’s falconer and is living on one of his smaller estates with her new husband. She hates everything to do with the ton and is glad of an excuse to turn her back on it.”
“What of the other two brothers?” Katrina asked, leaning her elbow on her knee and her chin on her clenched fist.
She listened as Frankie told her about Lord Amos and his marriage to a lady of humble origins “It was very romantic,” Frankie said, sighing.
“Did the duke and the dowager duchess not mind Lord Amos’s choosing a person of relatively lowly birth? And Lady Portia too, for that matter. I thought the aristocracy was very rigidly minded when it came to such matters. Maintaining bloodlines and so forth.” Katrina clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, listen to me. I make them sound like a string of racehorses.”
Frankie laughed. “The Sheridans are not nearly so high in the instep as their elevated position within society might lead one to expect. Besides, you are a member of the aristocracy yourself.”
“Oh, I am just an earl’s daughter. A very different proposition to being part of a duke’s family.”
“Well, the Sheridans are very good at making people from all walks of life feel comfortable.”
“I’m sure they are.”
But Lord Nate had made her feel anything but comfortable. She had devoted a large portion of the night, tossing and turning in her bed, trying to identify precisely what it was that he had made her feel. She still couldn’t put a name to it which vexed Katrina. She had an analytical mind and preferred to be able to rationalise everything that happened to her. There was no room in her life for the type of spontaneity that had come upon her since arriving in London. Papa would not approve at all. He had often warned her against the dangers of allowing emotion to overcome common sense. One’s judgement became impaired, he had told her on numerous occasions, if one’s actions were driven by emotion rather than logic.
She was sure Papa was in the right of it and she was very grateful for his advice. But the fact of the matter was that kernels of raw sensation, unfamiliar and primitive, had gripped her whenever Lord Nate looked at her through those arresting brown eyes of his. Eyes that alternately glistened with unnerving intelligence or came alive with wicked humour. Eyes that probably detected a great deal more about her character than she would prefer for him to know.
“Lord Vincent, the third brother, recently married Patrick Trafford’s granddaughter,” Frankie remarked, her voice jerking Katrina out of her reverie.
“The famous artist. I believe I read about that in the newspapers. The English papers reached us very late in Switzerland but they always arrived eventually and were keenly anticipated. Madame expected us to read about the political situation but we were, all four of us pupils, far more anxious for the latest society news from England. There was little else of a frivolous nature to keep us occupied. Marybelle, one of my fellow pupils, always knew exactly which gentlemen had come onto the marriage mart, their backgrounds, the amount of their fortunes and all sorts of other information that she considered vital. Madame would have been pleased with her diligence, had she known of it.”
Frankie smiled. “She is not alone in excelling at that occupation. Anyway, we were discussing Lord Vince. You will enjoy the Traffords. They have a property that adjoins Winchester Park. Trafford’s grandson is a charmer and might interest you.”
“I am not looking for a beau,” Katrina said glumly. “Papa has never actually said as much but I know he intends Mr. Brown for me.”
Frankie wrinkled her brow. “But it is obvious that you don’t much care for the man’s society. I wonder why your father would force you into a union with a man you don’t have any respect for.”
“Oh, he won’t force me.”
“Good.”
Katrina sighed. “But he won’t need to since I couldn’t disappoint Papa. He knows what is best for me.”
Frankie quirked a brow. “Shutting you away in Switzerland for years was good for you?”
“I received an excellent education,” Katrina replied defensively.
“I dare say that you did but were you not lonely, my dear?” Frankie reached across and took Katrina’s hand, the sympathy in her eyes almost enough to reduce Katrina to tears. That was ridiculous. She had no occasion to cry and no reason to feel sorry for herself. “It is none of my business and I hope you don’t think I’m speaking out of turn, but I can’t sit by and watch you make a mistake without at least telling you my opinion. As your friend of many years’ standing and given that I am not a great deal older than you—a sister more than a surrogate aunt—I hope I may speak freely.”
“I value your friendship above all things,” Katrina replied, furious when an errant tear slid down her cheek. “And since we are speaking frankly, was your marriage not arranged for you? You and Lord St. John seemed perfectly happy.”
“My circumstances were very different to your own,” Frankie replied, looking away.
Katrina would have liked to ask how but something in Frankie’s demeanour implied that the subject of her own short marriage was not open for discussion.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re not prying, Katrina. A lot of people appear curious about my marriage to Gerald. I suppose we made an odd couple, what with him being so much older than me.”
“You made a very handsome couple,” Katrina replied. “So glamorous, I always thought.”
“Why, thank you.” Frankie smiled. “But with regard to your situation, you have choices that were not available to me for reasons that I will not trouble you with. I don’t regret marrying Gerald but would probably not have done so if circumstances had been different.”
“Now you have made me very curious indeed. You had best not say any more or I will pester you endlessly for the particulars.”
You will soon be one-and-twenty, Katrina. Old enough to make up your own mind, independent of your father’s wishes.”
Katrina plucked absently at the fabric of her skirt. “If only it were that simple.”
“You are a dutiful daughter and cannot bear to disappoint those whom you love. In this case, your father. But has it occurred to you that if he returned your love he would take your wishes into consideration?”
“Don’t say that.” Katrina looked away. “Papa will have no peace unless he thinks I am safe and protected.”
“And happy?”
Katrina made a herculean effort to appear cheerful, wishing that Frankie had not voiced the doubts that had been lurking in the dark recesses of Katrina’s own mind. To give them free rein seemed ungrateful, undutiful, un-everything.
“Felicity in marriage is purely a matter of chance,” Katrina said with conviction. “Once passion wanes, unless a man and wife have something to talk about, some common purpose, what chance is there for them? The gentlemen will take themselves off and find mistresses and the ladies…well, they indulge in affairs too. I should not like to live that way.”
“Goodness, when did you become such a student of human nature?”
“I had plenty of opportunity to observe people’s behaviour once I left Madame’s and acted as Papa’s hostess in Brussels and then Paris.” Katrina flashed an arch smile. “I have been trained to be a diplomat’s wife which will suit me very well. I would not know how to do anything else. Papa knows that. I believe he is grooming Mr. Brown to take over his duties.”
“And you?”
“I am not a parcel, Frankie.”
“But you are very single-minded in your determination and very decided in your opinions. Some marriages are very happy and very passionate.”
“But they are the exception to the rule. If one does not have one’s affections too comprehensively engaged then one is less likely to suffer heartbreak.”
“So you would rather have a husband whom you can talk to about diplomatic affairs than one who excites your passions?”
“I would rather not have a husband at all.” Katrina spread her hands. “But if I must—”
“To please your father?”
“Yes, that is the only reason why I would willingly marry. He worries about me so much, you see. He is not getting any younger and although he refuses to admit it he no longer enjoys the best of health. I would not overset him by causing him unnecessary distress.”
“Unnecessary! Excuse me, Katrina, but we are talking about the rest of your life. Your father has lived his. You have most of yours ahead of you. I hesitate to speak so bluntly but,” she added, grinning, “I shall do so anyway. Your father by your own admission is no longer young. You on the other hand are lovely, intelligent, lively…all the qualities a man looks for in a future wife. You could take your pick.” Frankie’s smile returned. “Lord Nate certainly appeared to admire what he saw in you.”
“Stop it, Frankie!”
“I’m sorry, Katrina. I know I shouldn’t interfere, especially since you seem so determined to follow your father’s wishes, but it is very hard for me to see you make a mistake and not try to reason with you.”
“Oh, I shall be fine I expect. Besides,” Katrina added with an impish smile, “although Madame might disagree, I am plagued by a very dutiful disposition.”
“Well then, since you are destined for a future of diplomatic drudgery—”
“Frankie!”
“Now seems like the ideal time to organise a few spontaneous acts of rebellion.”
“Good heavens! Why? Besides, they can’t be spontaneous if you plan them.”
“Stop making difficulties. I am trying hard to misbehave, or at least have you do so, and you are putting up objections.” Frankie frowned. “That doesn’t seem quite the right way around. I am older than you and ought to be wiser. However, before settling into a life of marital domesticity and obedience, you really ought to spread your wings a little first. I should have thought that an enquiring mind such as your own would want to know what you will be missing, if only so you can congratulate yourself upon your good sense in avoiding all the frivolity.”
“Stop making fun of me.”
“That was not my intention,” Frankie replied, sobering.
“Young men can go out and sow their wild oats. I believe it is expected of them.” Katrina spread her hands. “But if I were to do anything nearly so shocking then my reputation would be in tatters.”
“All I am suggesting is that you don’t make any commitment to Mr. Brown quite yet. Enjoy the rest of your time here with me first. I am not quite the lost cause that I make myself out to be.” Frankie’s expression was suspiciously innocent. “Who knows what might develop?”
“Frankie, what are you plotting?” Katrina asked, sending her a suspicious look.
“I have no idea what you mean. I’m simply suggesting that you take every opportunity to enjoy yourself. The last time I checked that was not against any diplomatic code and I am sure we can find some activities that will not offend your strict sense of propriety.” Frankie’s eyes twinkled. “Or agitate the passion you seem determined to keep suppressed.”
Katrina shook her head, knowing it would be a waste of breath to try and persuade Frankie that she was doing any such thing. “I am entirely at your disposal,” she said.
“Good. Then we could do worse than to start with the invitation we have for tomorrow evening.”
“Which one?” Katrina asked, eyeing with some misgiving the long line of cards arrayed on the marble mantle.
“The Sheridans are having an at home to which I had been invited and accepted.”
“Oh, then I shall have a quiet evening here and catch up on some reading.”
“Sorry to disappoint you but since meeting you last night and realising you are my guest, I have received a note from the duchess this morning, extending the invitation to include you.”
“Oh.”
Katrina felt her cheeks warm and knew Frankie had observed her blush even if she was kind enough not to comment upon it. The thought of seeing Lord Nate again so soon and in a much more intimate setting, was disturbing. It ought not to be and Katrina would be in control of herself again very soon. She just needed a moment. “I am sure that will be delightful.”
“I ought to warn you that the duchess’s idea of a quiet at home will involve a sumptuous dinner for at least twenty people, and doubtless others will be invited to drop in afterwards to join in the jovialities.” Frankie beamed. “It will be an excellent opportunity for you to behave recklessly.”
“I can’t think what you mean by that remark and don’t intend to encourage you by asking for an explanation.” Katrina tried to look disapproving but suspected she didn’t carry it off too well. “Where does the family live while in London?”
“They have a large mansion in Berkeley Square.” Frankie shook her head. “It is absolutely enormous but still only half the size of Winchester Park.”
“Goodness, all that wealth and consequence. I shall be afraid to open my mouth.”
“Ha, that I do not believe for a moment.” Frankie looked up when her butler entered the room and cleared his throat. “What is it, Evans?”
He presented Frankie with a card on a salver. Frankie took it, read the name printed upon it and screwed up her nose. An unwelcome visitor, Katrina supposed. Probably one of the many gentlemen Katrina had noticed trying and failing to procure Frankie’s attention the previous evening. In spite of her protestations to the contrary, the duke was the only one to achieve that ambition.
“Your intended is here, Katrina. Do you wish to receive him?”
Katrina widened her eyes. “My intended?”
“Mr. Brown, of course. Who else did you imagine I meant?”
“Oh.”
“I assume you are anxious for his society.”
“Not especially but I suppose I had better see him.”
“Then I shall leave you two love birds alone,” Frankie replied, standing.
“Oh no, please don’t do that!”
“What are you afraid of?” Frankie asked, her expression concerned. “Has he hurt you, threatened you, in any way?”
“No,” Katrina replied, sighing as she made an effort to put aside her anxieties. She couldn’t admit, not even to Frankie, that Mr. Brown’s intensity frightened her. And yet she probably would marry him in spite of that, because Papa deemed it a suitable match. Frankie would never understand the degree of commitment she felt towards her beloved father. No one who hadn’t experienced the insecurities attaching to loneliness possibly could. “But since I have just agreed to place myself in your capable hands for the next few weeks and to enjoy all the diversions you can arrange, I would prefer Mr. Brown not to put me in a position of committing myself just yet.”
“Ah, so there is hope for you. Or could it be that my bad influence is having the desired effect already?” Frankie smiled at Katrina and then returned her attention to her butler. “Show Mr. Brown in please, Evans.”
A short time later that gentleman entered the drawing room and bowed to both ladies.
“How kind of you to call, Mr. Brown,” Frankie said civilly.
And yet there was a formality about her that Katrina had seldom known her to employ before. No one could fault her manners but it was clear that she didn’t think Mr. Brown had been kind at all and that she would infinitely prefer not to have him in her drawing room. As a diplomat, Mr. Brown would be able to sense her disinclination for his company. As a diplomat’s widow, Frankie would be aware of that fact. Oh dear! All this subtlety was making Katrina’s head spin.
“Thank you so much for receiving me, Lady St. John.” He turned towards Katrina and bowed. “Lady Katrina. I trust I find you well.”
“Perfectly so, I thank you.”
Katrina examined him as he took his seat and answered a question Frankie put to him. He was perfectly pleasant to look at and had never shown her anything other than the utmost respect. And yet there was a dark side to his character, glimpses of which she had seen once or twice, that truly frightened her. It made no sense. Still, she told herself, it was obvious that he held her in high esteem and would most likely treat her with kindness. That would just have to be enough for her.
But only after she had experienced Frankie’s distractions. She was more excited at that prospect than perhaps she ought to be. With the safety net of the solid, reliable Mr. Brown waiting in the wings she felt justified in thinking for once of her own pleasures.
“Would you care to take a walk in the park, Lady Katrina?” he asked after ten minutes had passed and Frankie showed no signs of leaving them alone.
“No thank you, Mr. Brown,” she replied politely. “It is far too cold to venture out of doors today.”
He seemed rather taken aback by her refusal. Katrina was very obliging and seldom declined a polite invitation even if it inconvenienced her.
“Oh, it is not so very cold.”
He stood, clearly expecting her to change her mind. The rebellious streak Madame had frequently complained about came to the surface and Katrina maintained her seat.
“I beg to differ,” she said stiffly.
“You overdid it at the ball last night,” he replied in a proprietorial manner that further angered Katrina. “I knew it would be the case and did try to warn you against dancing so much.”
“If a lady of my tender years cannot survive the rigours of a few dances then it would be a sorry state of affairs indeed.”
“You did not feel overexerted at the time because you were admired and much in demand, I suppose. That sort of thing is important to young ladies and entirely understandable but you are paying the price for your folly now.”
“Why would Katrina not be in demand, Mr. Brown?” Frankie asked politely. “You sound as though her popularity came as a surprise to you.”
“Not at all, but Lady Katrina, if she will forgive me for saying so, is too trusting. There are rogues out there ready to take advantage.”
Katrina would not forgive him but thought it better not to say so. As it was, she imagined a highly coloured account of her behaviour at the ball would reach her father’s ears simply because Mr. Brown was peeved with her. Or could it be that he was jealous of her success?
“At a society ball?” Frankie flexed a brow. “You terrify me, Mr. Brown.”
“That was not my intention, Lady St. John. You are accustomed to London society. Lady Katrina is not. That was my point.”
“She was in my care.” Frankie straightened a spine that was already rigidly upright. “I hope you are not implying that I was negligent in my duties as chaperone.”
Mr. Brown seemed rather disgruntled by the suggestion. As a diplomat, Katrina thought, he was not being very diplomatic in his choice of language. Perhaps that was why he left all the verbal negotiations to Papa. “Not in the least, ma’am, I do assure you.”
“I am very pleased to hear you say so,” Frankie replied stiffly. It was obvious to Katrina that she was offended by the implied criticism.
“I have to leave for Paris tomorrow,” Mr. Brown said, returning his attention to Katrina. “I had hoped for a word in private before I go.”
“You astonish me, Mr. Brown,” Katrina replied, getting into the rebellious mood that Frankie had suggested would be beneficial. “I cannot think of anything you could possibly have to say to me that cannot be said in front of Lady St. John.”
“Can you not?” he asked, fixing her with an ardent look and a smile that she had once found appealing. Today it left her feeling nothing at all, reinforcing her view that passion was a very transitory affair. Not that she had ever felt passion for Mr. Brown precisely but she had tried to persuade herself that she enjoyed his society, if only to please her father. Now she accepted, with a sinking heart, that she had been deluding herself.
Katrina was delighted when she heard the distant sound of the doorbell and voices in the vestibule. Frankie had more visitors, as evidenced by Evans’s reappearance. More cards were produced and several gentlemen whom Katrina had met the previous evening were shown into the room. With a flourishing bow, one of them presented Katrina with a delightful posy of violets, causing Mr. Brown to frown.
“I have to go,” he said to Katrina, “although I dislike leaving you here unprotected with these knaves.”
“Whatever do you suppose they will do to me?” she asked in irritation. “Ravish me here in Lady St. John’s drawing room?”
His frown intensified. “I did not know you could be so coarse. It is not a side of your character I have witnessed at all.”
And would hopefully cool his ardour. If he decided against her then Papa could not place the blame at Katrina’s feet. “Perhaps that’s because you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“You mistake the matter. I know you very well indeed, and hope to know you better still when I return from Brussels, which ought to be very soon. Your father will very likely be with me and I dare say he will have need of you back in Guildford.”
Why was he so anxious to have her quit the ton? Was there a moratorium on innocent enjoyment she knew nothing about? “I shall be delighted to see Papa,” she said. “Please assure him that I am well and enjoying myself.”
“Take very great care.” Mr. Brown bowed over her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Those who play with fire are likely to get burned.”
Who the devil did he think he was, giving her advice, Katrina wondered, fuming as she watched him leave. She had acted as her father’s hostess, receiving dignitaries including royalty from all over Europe and never put a foot wrong. Mr. Brown knew that very well and yet presumed to give her advice on how to behave here in London without her father.
One of Frankie’s visitors claimed Katrina’s attention, flirting outrageously with her, making her laugh. Katrina had never flirted in her entire life. Either Papa or Madame was always there to ensure that she did not.
But for now she could do as she pleased.