Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

and looked behind her with furrowed brow. ‘Where is Lord Seaton?’

      ‘I … we … quarrelled. I think.’ Katherine took the lemonade and drank it thirstily.

      ‘If he has—’ The lawyer was on his feet, hands clenched.

      ‘No, no!’ Katherine urged him to sit again. ‘Nothing of that sort. It is a … family matter which causes some tension, that is all.’

      ‘You will allow me to escort you in to supper?’ He still did not seem easy with her explanation.

      ‘Thank you, yes, that would be most kind.’

      Lady Fanny gave an approving nod, then smiled as another tall man approached. ‘Cousin Robert, have you come to ask Miss Cunningham to dance?’

      ‘Well, yes.’ Robert smiled cheerfully at Katherine. ‘Do you have any waltzes free after supper, Miss Cunningham? I’ll have done my duty dances by then. But I was hoping you’d let me take you in to supper.’

      ‘You are just too late, Lord Robert. Do you know Mr Graham?’

      The men exchanged greetings and Robert suggested they all go in together. ‘Cousin Fanny?’

      ‘No, Robert dear, I am joining Lady Willington’s party.’

      Katherine looked around her for Nick, but there was no sign of him. She bit her lip: quarrelling with him was far from what she had dreamed of doing on this fairytale evening.

      Everything was as magnificent as she had imagined, yet light-hearted, almost whimsical in tone. The flowers were massed banks of wildflowers mixed with hot house blooms, the lights twinkled behind shades of different coloured glass, the luxury and attention to detail was laid on with a light hand. It made her smile and think of Nick. She had not expected it of the Duke and wondered if, despite their exchange at lunch the other day, Nick had had some hand in it. Or perhaps he had inherited yet another characteristic of his father.

      Then they entered the supper room and there he was, sitting very much at his ease, conversing over a plate of shaved ham with the redhead. What was her name? Clarissa? No, Camilla. Katherine fixed a glittering smile in place and allowed Robert to guide her to a table in full view of his brother. She sank gracefully on to the chair Mr Graham pulled out for her and allowed the two men to bicker politely over who was going to serve her.

      ‘I will fetch the champagne and you fetch the food, then,’ Robert concluded, making off towards the table spread with black bottles.

      Champagne? Lady Fanny had expressly said no champagne. A few feet away Nick was pouring a wine into Lady Camilla’s glass. Well, if she can, I can. I am not going to be a provincial mouse, Katherine decided.

      Nick looked over and she smiled sweetly at him and waggled her fingers in the kind of coquettish gesture she had always despised in other women.

      Nick saw the little wave, correctly reading it for the sarcastic gesture it was meant to be. He bowed in return, lifting his glass in a silent toast that was not lost on his companion, who turned a haughty stare on Kat.

      ‘And who is she?’ she enquired coolly. ‘A tolerably pretty girl, I must admit, she can certainly dress.’

      ‘A friend of Cousin Fanny. Would you call her pretty?’ Nick enquired lazily, trailing one finger around the top of his wine glass. Good, Robert had recalled his instructions and was bringing champagne. Why the devil he had also brought that prickly Scottish lawyer, goodness knows, unless he had not been able to dislodge him.

      Camilla was preening slightly at his apparent criticism of Kat. She was quite obviously expecting that, as the most eligible lady in the district, he would be making her a declaration before long. Even if he was free, such an assumption irritated him. ‘No, definitely not pretty.’ Camilla smiled. ‘I would call her beautiful.’ The smile vanished to be replaced with a pout. Kat never pouts.

      ‘Look,’ Camilla said brightly with an edge that revealed her anger with him. ‘There is Jack Waterfall and my sister Lucy. Jack! Jack, come and join us.’

      Nick stood as the others reached the table. ‘Will you excuse me a moment?’

      Kat was still alone. Across the room Robert was juggling a bottle and three glasses while Graham was apparently undecided on the best way to convey food for three people back to the table.

      ‘Kat?’ She was quite well aware he was there, but her start of surprise was masterly and his lips twitched.

      ‘Oh. My lord?’

      ‘Have you saved me a dance, Kat?’

      She flicked open the card that dangled from her wrist. ‘As instructed, I have kept my card free, awaiting your pleasure.’ Oh, no, Kat, awaitingy our pleasure …

      ‘That one.’ He picked up the pencil and wrote his name against a waltz halfway through the remaining dances.

      ‘Just the one?’ She sounded piqued, and then frowned, annoyed at herself for revealing it.

      ‘Just the one, Kat.’ He smiled and went back to his table. One is all I need.

      Katherine drank two glasses of champagne, amazed at how it made even the haughtily averted profile of Lady Camilla less annoying. It did not, however, make her husband’s behaviour any less mysterious. Was he teasing her? Punishing her for some offence she was unaware of? Flirting?

      Flirting? She was not very experienced with such an activity, but surely that was a very strange way to go about it? A footman came up with a message for Robert, who scrambled to his feet with a muttered, ‘Oh, lor'. Cousin Timberlake is in his cups again. Please excuse me, Ka … Miss Cunningham.’

      Alone with Roderick Graham, and emboldened by the two glasses of wine, Katherine said, ‘Mr Graham, if you were to flirt with me, how would you go about it?’

      He almost choked on a lobster patty and took several moments before he could reply. ‘You would like me to flirt with you, Miss Cunningham?’

      ‘Oh, no, I am sorry. No, it is just that I am very inexperienced with things like that, and I am sure I would not notice if a gentleman were to flirt, and, naturally, one should be awake to that sort of thing.’ Now she had embarked upon this, Katherine was not at all sure how she was going to extricate herself. ‘And, naturally, one cannot ask a man who one would not trust,’ she finished in a rush. Possibly respectable Scottish lawyers, however youthful and good looking, were not the right type of man to ask. She misjudged Mr Graham.

      ‘Well.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Firstly I think I would fill up your wine glass and hand it to you, like this—and let my fingertips touch yours, like that.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘And then I would raise my glass in a toast to you, like this, and hold your eyes while I did so.’

      ‘Oh.’ Katherine swallowed. ‘And then?’

      ‘I would tell you what very beautiful eyes you have. And what very long eyelashes you have.’ He paused. ‘Would you like me to continue? I have to say, it is a pleasurable employment, but Lord Seaton appears to be becoming enraged, and whilst I—’

      ‘No! No, thank you very much, Mr Graham; that was most instructive.’ Well, if that was flirting, then Nick was certainly not indulging in it. On the other hand, if he was annoyed by Mr Graham—and she was most certainly not going to give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction—then that was interesting in itself.

      She refused offers of another ice and left the supper room with her escort. There seemed to be only one explanation for her husband’s behaviour: possessiveness and a strong protective instinct. Which was depressing, for she did not want to be regarded as a possession to be guarded or a feeble woman to be protected.

      But such melancholy thoughts were banished by a gratifying stream of requests for dances, to the point where she had to refuse the two before her waltz with Nick in order to escape and see Jenny.