‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I shall tell him everything.’
* * *
Grace had replied with a touch of hauteur but later, when Wolfgang had gone and she had retired to her bed, she admitted to herself that it was not true. She could not tell Loftus quite everything. Not the way her pulse jumped whenever she saw Wolfgang, nor how the days seemed to drag when he was not with her. She certainly could not tell Loftus about the inordinate rush of happiness she had felt when she learned Wolf was to take dinner with them that evening. And certainly not the trembling excitement she felt whenever he looked at her.
No, she thought sleepily. Those were memories to be locked away, along with childish dreams of adventure and knights in armour.
* * *
‘Mrs Graham, welcome. How good of you to support our little ball.’
Grace stood by silently as her aunt returned their hostess’s greeting. Lady Hathersedge was a cheerful lady with a determined gleam in her eye that said she would be asking for large donations of funds from her guests before the end of the evening. When Grace was presented she felt obliged to explain that her father was a mere country parson.
‘Indeed?’ Grace could almost see Lady Hathersedge writing her off. ‘It is a pleasure to have you with us, Miss Duncombe.’
‘Goodness,’ murmured Grace, as she accompanied her aunt into the drawing room. ‘I feared for a moment I might be turned out of doors when she realised I am as poor as the proverbial church mouse.’
‘Not at the price we paid for the tickets,’ muttered Aunt Eliza behind her fluttering fan.
‘Youpaid, Aunt. I feel quite guilty about asking you to spend so much.’
‘Nonsense, what else were we going to do this evening? No, I am delighted to be helping you and Mr—our friend,’ she corrected quickly. ‘Now, if you will point out Mrs Payne to me, I will do the rest. Heavens, but it is a crush in here. Thank goodness you are so tall, my love, you should be able to spot our quarry if she is here.’
Grace laughed, in no way offended by this frank reference to her height. She was accustomed to being the tallest person in the room.
That is why you are so attracted to Wolfgang Arrandale.
Grace gave her head a little shake. It was unworthy of Papa’s daughter to like a person for their physical attributes such as their height, or the width of their shoulders. One should like a person because of their character, because of their kindness and goodness, not because they made one feel dainty and petite. And alive.
‘Mrs Payne is over there.’ She touched her aunt’s arm, forcing her thoughts back to the present. ‘The lady in the black bombazine.’
‘Ah, yes, I see her. And I am slightly acquainted with the lady beside her, so that will give me an introduction. You had best let me deal with this alone, my love. Off you go and enjoy yourself.’
With that she sailed away to confront Mrs Payne, leaving Grace slightly bemused. How was one to enjoy oneself in a room full of strangers? The orchestra were striking up for the first of the country dances, but one could not dance without a partner.
However, Grace had not been her father’s hostess for years without learning a degree of self-sufficiency. She watched the first dance and when the music began again she made her way slowly around the room, smiling vaguely whenever anyone looked her way. The reception rooms were very grand and had a number of smaller apartments leading off, the largest of which was set out in readiness for supper. Grace had made a full circuit when a flurry of activity near the main entrance doors attracted her attention. She was close enough to hear a stentorian voice announce, ‘Mr John Peregrine!’
Her heart leapt to her mouth when she recognised the tall figure in the doorway, but it was with fear rather than any warmer emotion. He was so tall, so distinctive, his dark hair curling over the collar of his black coat and providing a stark contrast to the snow-white shirt and neckcloth. She glanced around, wondering why no one was staring at him, surely they would recognise Arrandale of Arrandale, even after ten years? But to her relief the music was starting again and everyone was bustling and pushing towards the dance floor. A nervous laugh shook her. What effrontery, to stand there for all the world to look at him while he lifted his quizzing glass and cast an arrogant and slightly weary eye over the assembly.
He should not be here, courting danger so brazenly. The quizzing glass stopped at Grace and as he moved towards her she lost all desire to laugh. Her nerves were on edge and she was afraid she might do or say something to betray him.
‘Mr Peregrine.’ She held out her hand.
‘Miss Duncombe. I thought I might find you here.’
‘What are you doing here?’ She hid her words behind a smile as he bowed over her fingers. ‘What if you are recognised?’
‘In this company? There is little chance of it. My family is not renowned for supporting good causes. Although in the past we might well have added a few foundlings to the hospital.’
His eyes glinted with wicked humour and she felt the tingle of excitement running through her. It was quite reprehensible.
‘Pray do not try to shock me,’ she retorted in a low, angry under-voice. ‘I cannot believe you would put yourself in such danger.’
‘I am flattered by your concern. Where is your aunt?’
‘Over there, by the window. Talking to Mrs Payne.’
‘Ah, yes, I see.’ When she tried to pull away his grip tightened on her fingers. ‘Are you as friendless here as I am? Perhaps you would like to dance.’
