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‘How nice to see you back in England again, Lord Quintus,’ Caroline said brightly as he turned her under their clasped hands. ‘You must call.’
‘You may be sure of it.’
To Cleo’s ears that sounded remarkably like a declaration.
* * *
‘What are those?’ Almost two hours later Cleo sat and studied the intricate little pastries on the heaped plate Quin placed before her. She knew she was pink-cheeked and she knew she was breathless, but she could only hope he thought that was the result of the energetic set they had just danced. ‘I...I mean, thank you, Lord Quintus, that looks delightful.’
‘Those are an assortment of savouries, including a fair number of lobster patties, which I thought you might like. They are delicious but, naturally you must only nibble at them, pretending you have no appetite, despite the fact that they are the product of Gunter’s fabled kitchens.’
‘I know. Yet another ridiculous convention. Ladies have no appetites. Of any sort,’ she added darkly, and Quin swallowed a laugh choked on pastry crumbs.
She told herself she could do this, pretend to be indifferent, as though she was prepared to forgive him in a ladylike manner, but wanted no closer acquaintance with him than an exchange of small talk over supper. Fortunately she had danced every set between the country dances and the moment when he came to claim her again for the supper set. Her shock at coming face to face with his prospective bride must surely be hidden by now.
Quin looked around as if confirming that their little table squashed into a corner was out of earshot of any of the nearby tables, each with their chattering group. She had wondered at him choosing it when so many better-placed tables had been available, now she realised he was preparing for a tête-à-tête.
‘Cleo, tell me what is wrong. And don’t pretend it is simply that you want to run me through with a dagger or you are exasperated by lessons in ladylike behaviour.’
She pushed a patty around her plate with her fork. ‘Why should I confide in you? You will probably go straight to my grandfather and report whatever I say to him.’
‘No, I will not. Cleo, you know I did the right thing in bringing you to him. The only possible thing. My fault was in not explaining to you beforehand, but I thought you would run away from me.’ He hesitated, and she had the inexplicable feeling that what he said next was somehow of deep significance. ‘Cleo, I give you my word of honour that I am not hiding anything from you and that what you tell me will go no further.
‘Are you so very unhappy?’ Quin asked. ‘Truly I believe this is the best for you, the safest thing. You probably still feel very alone, but that will pass. This will all become familiar, you will make friends, make a new life.’ He laid his hand over hers on the table and Cleo stiffened, then left hers where it was. A dangerous indulgence if he could read her erratic pulse aright.
‘Yes, I am unhappy,’ she agreed, making no attempt to lighten the words with a brave smile.
‘Does it seem intolerably superficial and frivolous?’
She shrugged.
‘What is wrong, Cleo?’
‘I feel better now the evening is half over. But you see I have to do this perfectly or my grandfather will exile me in the country with my great-aunt. I thought I would have at least until my twenty-fifth birthday, eighteen months away, to find a husband he approves of. He told me that if I do not behave as he thinks fit, or fail to consider honestly proposals made to me, then I will be banished earlier. This is my first major social event. At first I feared that I would get it all wrong, that I would fail at the first hurdle and it would all be over before I can find a way to get some money together and somehow live my own life.’
‘It must seem daunting, a mountain of things to learn, a quicksand of social pitfalls.’ There was no sympathy in his voice, only bracing encouragement. ‘You are good at languages, this is just another language to learn,’ he said as she sat silent. ‘You are doing wonderfully already. You dance well, you look both elegant and beautiful. Soon you will feel at home and realise that this is where you belong. You see your grandfather in the light of an ogre, but he is not that really, is he?’
She had been a fool to think Quin would help her, or even understand. This was his world, of course he assumed she would learn to think of it as the natural, right, place to be.
‘You are quite correct, I am sure.’ Cleo smiled polite thanks for the advice and made herself eat a patty. It was exquisite, of course. So was the luxury she was surrounded by.
Quin lifted his hand from hers and gestured to a waiter for more champagne. ‘Give it time and you might even find a husband you can tolerate.’
