‘Colonel Fairchild,’ Sir Giles finished for him, when the Major’s voice faded. ‘I understand that she lived with him for a short time. I thought perhaps you knew her.’
How very interesting! Daniel mused, his mind racing back over the years. Then it was just possible that he had met Miss O’Malley in the dim and distant past, though she must have been little more than a child at the time, for Colonel Fairchild had been dead for a number of years.
‘Such glorious hair, do you not agree?’ Sir Giles remarked, successfully recapturing his companion’s attention. ‘I myself have always had a particular weakness for auburn-haired fillies.’
‘Oh, you have, have you?’ Daniel did not believe a word of it, and wasn’t reticent about making his own views clear. ‘Well, I certainly have not! The few I’ve come across during my lifetime have all been devious little firebrands—totally unpredictable and not to be trusted. And Miss O’Malley has certainly not induced me to alter my opinion!’
It had taken Katherine a minute or two only to become aware that those of her fellow guests who were drifting into the card-room were keeping well clear of the table where she and the Dowager Lady Charlesworth now sat. Several wicked possibilities occurred to her for this deliberate avoidance, all of which were most definitely to the formidable Dowager’s discredit. She was just beginning to come to the conclusion that it was unlikely that there was anyone among the guests brave enough to challenge Lady Charlesworth, when a shadow fell across the table, and she found herself meeting the steely gaze of the distinguished-looking gentleman who had arrived with the disreputable Major.
‘Ah, Osborne!’ There was a distinct note of approval in the Dowager’s booming voice, which gave Katherine every reason to suppose that the baronet would prove to be a worthy opponent. ‘Come to challenge me and my young partner, have you? Well, sit down! Sit down, man! Have you met Miss O’Malley?’
‘I understand that you are Mrs Wentworth’s niece,’ he remarked, after Lady Charlesworth had made the introductions so loudly that Katherine was fairly certain that, had anyone else in the room been ignorant of her identity before, such was no longer the case.
Katherine nodded. ‘My mother was her elder sister, sir.’
‘I also understand that you reside in Bath.’
‘Yes, sir. I have lived there for a number of years.’
‘But not alone, I trust,’ the Dowager put in, looking faintly disapproving.
It would have afforded Katherine the utmost pleasure to inform the dictatorial lady seated opposite that her domestic arrangements were entirely her own concern, but having given way once to her occasionally volatile temperament, she had no intention of doing so again. It would have afforded her even greater pleasure to be able to say that she did live quite alone. Unfortunately she could not do so.
‘No, ma’am,’ she admitted. ‘My late aunt’s former companion still resides with me.’
‘Very proper,’ the Dowager approved, before turning her attention to Sir Giles and demanding to know if he had secured himself a partner.
‘My sister will be joining us, ma’am… Ah! And here she is, ready to do battle.’
It would have been hard to find a less formidable-looking opponent, Katherine decided, as she watched the middle-aged lady, dressed in the startling orange-coloured gown, nervously twisting the strings of her reticule round her fingers as she seated herself at the table.
The baronet’s spinster sister put Katherine in mind of the companion whom she had unfortunately inherited from her late aunt. Poor Miss Mountjoy, always eager to please, whilst bracing herself for the inevitable cutting remarks, had always displayed the same degree of nervous tension, whenever in her late employer’s presence, as Miss Mary Osborne was betraying now.
Katherine well expected the Dowager, undoubtedly fashioned in the same mould as the late Miss Augusta Fairchild, to utter some blistering remark. Yet, surprisingly enough, apart from sniffing rather pointedly as she cast disapproving eyes over the dazzling orange creation, which clashed alarmingly with her own puce gown, she refrained from comment. Which gave Katherine every reason to suppose that the mouse-like Miss Osborne, though lamentably lacking an eye for fashion, had somehow managed to earn the formidable Dowager’s approval.
This certainly proved to be the case, for Miss Osborne was undoubtedly a very skilful card player, and her partner no less so. They easily won the first game, and Katherine found herself having to concentrate very hard, which was no easy matter when she was having to contend with her partner’s hard-eyed scrutiny, and the frequent, penetrating steely-grey-eyed glances she found herself receiving from the baronet. None the less, her nerve, though sorely tested, held firm, and she and her partner won the second game, and took the first rubber convincingly with the final game.
‘I knew I chose wisely when I selected you for my partner, Miss O’Malley,’ Lady Charlesworth boomed approvingly. ‘A female who can hold her nerve, eh, Os-borne?’
‘It would certainly appear so, ma’am,’ he answered softly, his eyes once again firmly turned in Katherine’s direction. ‘Miss O’Malley appears to possess all the necessary requirements … Yes, she might prove to be an excellent choice.’
Chapter Three
I’ve been giving some thought to what you disclosed on the evening of my engagement party.’
The surprising admission succeeded in capturing Katherine’s attention, and she transferred her gaze from the spot beyond the parlour window, where the morning’s continuous rain had succeeded in creating a huge puddle on the terrace, to her cousin, who had been industriously plying her needle for the past half-hour. ‘About what?’ she prompted.
‘About Major Ross.’
The immediate response did not precisely please Katherine. Although his name had never once been mentioned within her hearing since the night of the party, she had been irritated by the number of times he had managed to encroach into her thoughts.
‘Before he returned to London Richard happened to mention,’ Caroline continued, ‘that Wellington himself thought very highly of the Major, and used him on many important missions.’
‘His bravery is not in question,’ Katherine pointed out, striving not to sound waspish. ‘I merely maintain that he is a heartless wretch who cares naught for the feelings of others.’
‘I’m not so certain you’re right about that,’ Caroline argued. Highly complaisant and sweet-natured though she was, she wasn’t afraid to voice an opinion if she held strong views on a subject. ‘I found myself in his company on more than one occasion during the evening of the party. I have to own, I rather liked him, even though I found his conversation a little—how shall I put it?—forthright. But Richard assured me that seasoned campaigners do tend to be plain-spoken and a little abrupt. And the Major was kind enough to fetch me a cup of fruit punch.’
‘Oh, well, that just goes to prove I misjudged him entirely, doesn’t it?’ Katherine rolled her eyes ceiling-wards. ‘Any gentleman who would fetch a lady refreshments must surely be a paragon of all the virtues!’
‘Furthermore,’ Caroline continued, smiling faintly at this blatant sarcasm, ‘Richard did furnish me with one tale about the Major that he’d heard from a fellow officer. Seemingly, appalling atrocities took place after our troops were successful in storming Badajoz. Major Ross, by all accounts, offered his protection to the wife of some French officer. I do not know all the details, you understand, because Richard didn’t consider it a suitable topic to discuss in my company. Nevertheless, what he did disclose was sufficient to convince me that any gentleman who would put his life at risk to protect a lady’s virtue must be a very honourable man. Which makes me wonder whether what you were told about him years ago was completely true.’
‘We do not know for certain that the story of his heroism