‘What? Oh, no—that is—’
‘Come along, ma’am, I am sure everyone wants to hear you.’ Sir Desmond was beaming and beckoning her forwards.
Gideon turned to her.
‘I would like to hear you, very much, but if you wish I will tell them you would rather not.’
The kindly understanding in his eyes boosted her spirits. She squared her shoulders.
‘No,’ she said, smiling a little, ‘I have been happy enough to listen to the others, it is only fair I take my turn.’
A smattering of applause went round the room as she rose and made her way to the pianoforte. Sir Desmond hovered around her, adjusting the candles and asking if he should search out any music for her from the pile of sheets on the table.
‘Perhaps Mrs Albury will play us a French air,’ sniggered someone from the audience.
Dominique affected not to hear, but she was heartened when Gideon responded with a laugh, ‘Perhaps she will—whatever her choice I know it will be delightful. What is it to be, my dear?’
‘A piece by Mr Mozart, I think,’ she declared.
The ‘Fantasia’ was not long and not even particularly difficult. She had performed it many times for her mother and knew she could play it well, but her confidence wavered when she looked around the room and realised how many people were watching her. Then her gaze fell upon Gideon. He was smiling at her. Everyone else was forgotten. She would play for him and him alone.
* * *
As she struck the last confident chords she smiled, knowing she had done well. The applause was instant and the first ‘brava’ she heard was from Gideon. There were calls for an encore, but she shook her head, blushing, and would have joined Gideon, but Gwendoline carried her off to enjoy the praise and compliments of her guests.
‘Gideon shall have you back in a while,’ she told Dominique, sweeping her away. ‘You must not allow him to monopolise you, my dear.’
‘By Gad no,’ declared Sir Desmond, accompanying them across the room. ‘It’s about time you gave the rest of us a share of your company, madam.’
When she glanced over her shoulder she saw Gideon smile and nod to her, before joining a group of gentlemen gathered about Lord Ribblestone, so she allowed Gwen to lead her to a lively little group who were enjoying a final glass of wine together before the carriages were called.
‘I thought we should never get a word with you,’ exclaimed Mrs Innis, a buxom matron swathed in mulberry silk. ‘Albury has been guarding you all evening.’
‘Not guarding,’ Dominique protested with a smile. ‘I enjoy his company.’
‘La, madam, pray do not say such a thing!’ cried Sir Desmond, throwing up his hands.
‘At least not in front of Gideon,’ added Gwen. ‘It would make him horribly conceited, you know.’
‘Yes,’ declared Mrs Innis. ‘A husband needs to be kept on his toes. ‘You must not let him take you for granted.’
‘You should set up a flirt,’ whispered Gwendoline. ‘As I have done.’ She turned to Sir Desmond, who was hovering about her. ‘My dear, will you be an angel and fetch me another glass of wine? I am quite parched this evening.’
As he lounged away Mrs Innis gave a fat chuckle.
‘If only we were all fortunate enough to have such a devoted lap dog.’
‘Desmond is very sweet,’ agreed Gwen, smiling after his retreating form.
‘But, does Lord Ribblestone not object?’ enquired Dominique.
Gwen’s smile slipped a little.
‘I doubt he even notices.’
Mrs Innis tapped Dominique’s arm with her closed fan.
‘Lord bless you, Mrs Albury. A man don’t want his wife to be forever clinging to his coat-tails, ain’t that so, Lady Ribblestone?’
‘No, indeed.’ Gwen shook off her reverie and gave a bright smile. ‘Pray do not look so shocked, dear sister. It is all the rage to have a cicisbeo, I assure you.’
‘But I don’t want a—a—’
‘Not a case of what you want,’ put in another lady, her eyes fixed rather wistfully upon a thin, bewhiskered gentleman on the far side of the room. ‘Grayson only shows an interest in me if he thinks he has a rival.’
‘Perhaps it is a little early for Mrs Albury to be setting up a flirt,’ said Mrs Innis, considering. ‘She is not yet married a month.’
‘It is much too early,’ Dominique replied emphatically. ‘I mean to be an exemplary wife.’
‘Very admirable, my dear, but you need to take care,’ said the wistful woman. ‘Nothing revolts a man more than an excessive display of affection from his spouse. Men are such contrary creatures, they are most attracted to the very thing they cannot have.’
And that would be the beautiful actress, thought Dominique, maintaining her smile with an effort.
‘Very true, Lady Grayson,’ averred Mrs Innis, the dyed ostrich feathers in her turban nodding vigorously. ‘You must never appear too eager for his attentions—that way leads only to disaster.’
Dominique turned to Gwendoline, expecting her to say that was nonsense, but instead her sister-in-law nodded, saying slowly, ‘You know, my dear, I think Gideon is very much like a dog with a bone. He may not want you at all, until someone else shows an interest.’
Dominique grimaced.
‘I am not a piece of meat, Gwen.’
‘No-o, but as his wife he may think he does not need to work for your affection.’
‘Perhaps I should talk to him—’
‘Fatal, my dear,’ declared Gwen. ‘You must keep Gideon at arm’s length if you want to maintain his interest.’
‘But surely—’
‘Only a trollop would throw herself at a man,’ stated Mrs Innis baldly, ignoring Dominique’s attempt to speak. ‘Give him your smiles, my dear, but never your sighs. Let him kiss you and make love to you, but never, never allow him to believe you care or it will be all over with you. He will be setting up his mistress and treating you like a bond slave. He will dominate and bully you until you are the unhappiest being in the world and he won’t even care.’
‘Who won’t care?’ demanded Sir Desmond, returning at that moment. ‘If you are talking of Lady R, then I care very much.’
‘Which just proves what we have been saying,’ responded Gwendoline lightly. ‘Men always want the one thing they cannot have.’
‘What nonsense are you telling my wife?’ demanded Gideon, coming up while they were all laughing.
‘Merely a few home truths, Brother, regarding how best to remain happy.’
‘My wife’s happiness is, of course, my chief concern.’ He made her a little bow and held out his arm. ‘Our carriage awaits, ma’am. I think it is time we said goodnight.’
* * *
‘I think that passed off very well,’ he remarked as they drove home through the dark streets. ‘And my sister introduced you to her friends?’
‘Yes. Including Sir Desmond Arndale.’ She drew a breath. ‘Is...um...is he her lover?’
‘I doubt it, but much of Anthony’s time is taken up with government matters and Arndale is useful when Gwen needs an escort.