Stephanie giggled deliciously. ‘I doubt if anyone can remember the steps,’ she said. ‘The waltz is all the rage nowadays. How odd to think that only two years ago it was considered shocking and young ladies were forbidden to dance it in public!’
‘You will allow, then, that the war was of some benefit to society?’ said Catford, his lips twitching in amusement. ‘At least our success in importing the German dance seems to have won your approval. Sadly, I fear that it will be too strenuous for me at present, but I look forward in great anticipation to seeing the pair of you twirling about the room.’
‘A full-dress ball, at long last!’ breathed Stephanie rapturously. ‘I had almost given up hope of ever attending a real one! I am so grateful that you managed to persuade Grandmama to allow me to stay at the Hall for the month, Georgie—the thought of yet another season in Harrogate was beginning to drive me quite insane!’
‘It is Aunt Letty who really deserves your thanks,’ demurred Georgianne. ‘She was the one who eventually convinced Lady Highsmith that she would benefit much more from her visit to her sister in Yorkshire if she did not have to concern herself with having to see that you were sufficiently entertained.’
‘I have been forced to endure Harrogate’s so-called “entertainments” ever since I was sixteen years of age,’ grimaced Stephanie. ‘They consist of morning promenades to the pump-room, afternoon visits to Grandmama’s dreary old acquaintances and long, tedious evenings at the card tables.’
‘But you did get to attend the assemblies last year,’ her friend reminded her, with a smile. ‘I seem to recall you mentioning that a rather dashing young lieutenant paid you a great deal of attention!’
‘Richard Loxley,’ Stephanie nodded glumly, ‘He was quite sweet but, as usual, Grandmama did her utmost to discourage him—it sometimes seems as if she cannot bear to see me enjoying myself!’
‘Oh, come now, Stephanie!’ protested Catford, who had been following the girl’s conversation with polite interest. ‘You are being a little hard on Lady Highsmith, surely! Whilst it is certainly true that your grandmother takes her role as your guardian rather more seriously than would some, you cannot fault her for her generosity. Only five minutes ago you were describing to me the “simply gorgeous” ballgown that Madame Henri—whose creations, I might add, are hardly cheap—has produced for you. If her ladyship discouraged one of your suitors, you may be sure that she had very good reason for doing so.’
‘Yes, but she always discourages all of them,’ pouted Stephanie. ‘That is why I was so astonished when she actually agreed to let me stay with you this year. She normally never lets me out of her sight for more than five minutes at a time!’
‘Her ladyship is merely concerned for your welfare,’ put in Catford gently, as he reached across to press her hand. ‘Having devoted the best part of her life to caring for young ladies whose lives have been less fortunate that your own, she is probably more aware than most of the dangers that might easily befall one who is as lovely as you are, my dear.’
Although she was not remiss in offering the viscount a tremulous smile in recognition of his compliment, Stephanie could not forbear from thinking that it was all very well for those whose lives were as free as a bird’s to chastise her for grumbling about her own rather more restricted one. After all, she reasoned to herself, none of the viscount’s family had been obliged to suffer her grandmother’s long-term dedication to her Refuge for Genteel Ladies in Distress—or Home for Unmarried Mothers, as some of the less enlightened members of the local populace tended to refer to Highsmith House. Highly commendable though Lady Highsmith’s commitment to her project might be, it did seem to carry with it the unfortunate side effect of causing the home’s founder to be uncommonly strict as regarded her granddaughter’s upbringing. And, even though she had taken extreme measures to ensure that the girl was shielded from the more unsavoury aspects involved in overseeing the welfare of the continual stream of those young ladies who were housed in the west wing of the building—referring to them only as “our guests”—it would have been difficult, if not downright impossible, for an inquisitive child, such as Stephanie had always been, not to have learned the real truth of the situation.
Owing to the fact that Georgianne’s aunt, Lady Letitia Gresham, served on Lady Highsmith’s board of trustees, the two girls had been acquainted since early childhood. Having both been orphaned at birth, it was hardly surprising that they should have forged the bonds of friendship, even though their temperaments could hardly have been more different.
Not long after the two girls were out of leading-strings, it had been arranged between their guardians that Stephanie would take her lessons with Georgianne, in the schoolroom at Gresham Hall, and this she had done until both girls had turned eighteen. Georgianne’s subsequent departure to London to make her formal début into the high society to which her family belonged, had filled her lifelong friend with both envy and rage, since Lady Highsmith had flatly refused to countenance the countess’s very generous offer to bring the two girls out together.
Her grandmother’s inexplicable refusal to allow her to accompany the Greshams to London had come as a bitter blow to Stephanie for, as with a certain amount of resentment, she had quickly pointed out to her friend, it was not as though the old lady was short of funds. ‘It is all part and parcel of her refusal to admit that I have a good deal more common sense than any of those pathetic creatures to whom she devotes so much of her time!’ she had complained at the time.
‘I hardly think that sense has had a lot to do with any of your grandmama’s ladies’ falls from grace,’ Georgianne had mused. ‘I am rather inclined to the belief that they simply allowed their hearts to overrule their heads.’
‘Allowed themselves to be totally taken in by some mendacious philanderer, you mean!’ Stephanie had retorted scornfully, ignoring her friend’s pained expression. ‘Well, I for one, find it extremely galling to discover that my own grandmother appears to labour under the misconception that I am going to throw myself into the arms of the first man who crosses my path!’
‘Stranger things have happened,’ Georgianne had pointed out, with a smile and a shake of the head. ‘Especially if you were to fall in love.’
‘Fall in love!’ her friend had scoffed. ‘You do talk such nonsense at times, Georgianne! I have no intention of ever indulging in such a feeble-minded activity! Why limit one’s favours to just the one gentleman when there is so much more satisfaction to be gained from having several of them at a time vying for one’s attention?’
‘Well, if the various routs and assemblies we have attended this past year have been anything to go by,’ the laughing Georgianne had then replied, ‘there have certainly been more than enough of them queuing up to vie for yours!’
‘Local squires’ sons and impoverished preachers!’ Stephanie had sniffed disparagingly. ‘Just think how many earls and viscounts I might have added to the list had not Grandmama been so adamant in her refusal.’ Then, having extracted herself from her friend’s sudden but heartfelt hug of sympathy, she had added, somewhat despondently, ‘By the time this Season is over, Georgianne, I predict that you will have netted a peer of your own and will be all set for your big society wedding, while it seems more than likely that I shall be stuck in this boring backwater for the rest of my days. Life is so unfair!’
Three years had passed since she had made that prediction, however, and, as the Gresham carriage rolled up the winding drive towards the Hall’s front door, Stephanie found herself recalling how very astonished she had been when Georgianne had, in fact, returned from her sojourn in town not only quite unattached but, as it happened, several weeks earlier than had been anticipated. Short of a rather brief and terse account of her presentation at Clarence House, and, despite Stephanie’s eager questioning, Georgianne had proved strangely unwilling to satisfy her friend’s curiosity as to the success or otherwise of her London début. In addition to which, there had been no further talk of any future Seasons for Lady Letitia’s niece.
Stephanie