‘Do you think so?’ murmured Ralph, coming towards her. ‘I do not see it.’
He was smiling, and Lucy forced herself to smile back. She had no wish now to gaze at him adoringly, to think of his kiss. When he would have taken her hand, she moved away slightly and made her own way into the room. Caroline patted the seat beside her and smiled invitingly.
‘Everyone wears these styles and colours, Margaret. Leave the girl alone.’
But Lucy saw the speculative glance Caroline threw at her brother.
* * *
Lucy discovered that playing a role was much easier than being herself. She existed only as Ralph’s fiancée; quiet, complaisant and totally without emotion. When Ralph escorted her in to dinner and asked her if she was all right, she smiled sweetly and told him she was very well. Conversation ebbed and flowed around her. After dinner the ladies retired to the drawing room, where Lucy recited without a blush the story she and Ralph had concocted about how and where they had met.
‘So it was love at first sight,’ said Margaret.
‘Not exactly.’
‘Well, I must say I was surprised to learn that Ralph had found himself another bride,’ remarked Caroline. ‘I thought Helene’s death had put him off marriage for ever.’
‘Did he...? Did he love her very much?’ Lucy thought it quite reasonable that a fiancée might ask the question of Ralph’s sisters.
‘I never thought so,’ replied Caroline frankly. ‘She was exquisitely beautiful, of course, but when one got past that she had very little else to recommend her.’
‘My dear, she was the sweetest girl,’ protested Ariadne.
‘Yes, the sweetest little nodcock.’
‘Well, I think we have only ourselves to blame that he married her,’ said Margaret, coming to sit on the other side of Lucy. ‘We urged Ralph to marry, and to please us he went to Harrogate, looking for a wife. Preston hurled the gel at his head and with her beauty it is hardly surprising that Ralph should fall head over heels in love and offer for her.’
‘And she bored him within a month of the ceremony,’ declared Caroline. ‘Whereas you, my dear...’ She turned and caught Lucy’s hands. ‘You have intelligence and a sharp wit, if I am not mistaken, that will keep a man interested for a lifetime.’
Shocked out of her role, Lucy blushed.
‘How can you say so when you hardly know me?’
‘I knew it as soon as we met. You have a ready sense of the ridiculous and although you are no chatterbox, what you do say shows you have an active and enquiring mind.’
‘But many men do not want an intelligent wife, Caro,’ said Margaret. ‘The very thought frightens them.’
‘Not Lucy,’ cried her sister, smiling, ‘Who could be frightened of her?’
Lucy laughed and disclaimed. How she would have liked to make real friends of these women, but it could not be. When the time came for her to jilt Ralph they would despise her, she knew it.
‘Let us have some music!’ cried Margaret, jumping up and going to the piano. ‘Do you play, Lucy?’
‘A little, but not that well.’
‘Then we are all evenly matched. Come along, there is some music here somewhere...’
* * *
When the gentlemen came in some time later they found all four ladies gathered about the piano, singing folk songs. Margaret immediately called across the room to them.
‘Ralph, your fiancée has the sweetest voice. Do come and join her in a duet.’
Lucy forgot to be complaisant and said hurriedly, ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t—’
‘Do you mean to say you and Ralph have not sung together yet?’ Caroline caught Lucy’s hand to stop her running away. ‘Fie upon you, brother, isn’t it Shakespeare who says music is the food of love? Come and sing with her. Margaret shall play for you.’
There was no avoiding it. The sisters shepherded Lucy into place beside Ralph, music was thrust into their hands, and Margaret began to play, while the others took their seats in eager expectation. A lively version of ‘Cherry Ripe’ was followed by ‘Early One Morning’. They were familiar songs, and Lucy soon lost her nervousness and enjoyed herself, her voice blending with Ralph’s powerful tenor to produce a wonderful sound that rang around the room. When they had finished their audience clapped enthusiastically.
‘Do you know, that was really rather splendid,’ declared Sir Timothy, beaming at them. ‘I think we shall enjoy some wonderful musical evenings here at Adversane in the future.’
‘There is a lovely duet from The Magic Flute here somewhere,’ cried Caroline, pulling more music from a cupboard. ‘It would suit you both beautifully—’
‘Not tonight,’ said Ralph firmly. He signalled to his brothers-in-law to come forward. ‘We have performed, and now it is your turn to join your ladies.’
Lucy had enjoyed herself far too much. The way Ralph had smiled at her had made her pulse race again, disastrous for her peace of mind. She went over to sit next to Ariadne on the sofa. It was only large enough for two and Ariadne’s ample frame took up most of the space, so she would be able to enjoy the singing without being distracted by Ralph’s disturbing presence.
However, when the couples had agreed who would sing, and Caroline had replaced her sister at the piano, Ralph came across and perched himself upon the arm of the sofa beside her. Lucy kept her gaze fixed rigidly on the piano, but she was very much aware of his thigh so close to her shoulder. He leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers playing with the curls at the nape of her neck.
It was all very nonchalant, if a little daring, for a gentleman to lounge in such a manner so close to a lady, but at an informal house party, and when the lady in question was his fiancée, Lucy knew no one would object.
She sat upright, removing her curls from his reach, but her skin still tingled at the knowledge that his fingers were so close and, even more disturbingly, she was very aware that no more than a few inches and a thin covering of kersey separated her from that long, muscular thigh.
Her mind was in turmoil. She had no idea what was sung, or even how long it went on. Part of her wanted it to be over so that Ralph would get up and move away.Another part of her, a much more invidious part, wanted it to go on for ever so that she might lean back again and feel those strong, lean fingers playing with her curls, perhaps even caressing the back of her neck.
* * *
The singing ended. Ralph eased himself off the arm of the sofa and walked over to congratulate the performers. Lucy told herself she was delighted, relieved. Margaret returned to the piano to play a sonata and the others disposed themselves gracefully around the room. It was a warm evening, and Sir Timothy threw open the long windows and stepped outside. It was growing dark, and a servant entered with a taper to light the candles. Lord Wetherell invited his lady to accompany him onto the terrace and watch the bats. For the first time Lucy saw Caroline show signs of nerves.
‘Bats—horrid creatures! They swoop upon one so silently.’
‘But I shall be there to protect you,’ murmured her husband, holding out an imperious hand. ‘Come along, Caro.’
They wandered out. Ariadne went off to tidy away the music and Lucy was left alone on the sofa. Ralph sat down beside her.
‘No, please do not go.’ He put his hand on her arm as she went to get up. ‘I enjoyed singing with you.’
‘Did Helene sing?’ The question was out before she could stop it.
‘Of course. She was most accomplished.’