Page 16 of Managing the Major

It took him a moment to collect his thoughts, but he recovered. “I honestly don’t remember. Did you mention an invitation arrived for the musicale, Nerissa?”

“Yes, Lady Jersey was gracious enough to send one,” she answered. He remembered too late that they had discussed it, but one event often blurred into another. “Do I understand the Countess of Seldon will play, Miss Merrick? I have a cousin who attended her concert in Paris last spring. Your sister-in-law was very well-received.”

“Yes, she enjoyed a very successful tour. Critics agree her technique is superb. She wrote a piece dedicated to my brother soon after their marriage, which is often requested.”

“Are you a lover of music, Miss Merrick?” Alastair asked.

Amusement played across her face. “Oh, not at all. I’m afraid I have a very poor ear for it. Lord Seldon has a passion for music; he actually played the piano in his youth. I tried lessons, but the instructor considered it all a dismal failure. My sister, Lady Spencer, was equally unteachable—but hers was a lack of interest rather than aptitude.”

Lady Merrick smiled. “My youngest daughter far preferred the stables, and my elder, the dress shops. But no matter, Lady Fiona has far surpassed my hopes for a musician in the family.”

“How excellent that you will attend Lady Jersey’s musicale. It is far easier for Miss Croyden to mingle with eligible young gentlemen at such a gathering. Almack’s is always a dreadful crush,” Miss Merrick approved. “I vow, I am quite determined to take your lovely daughter under my umbrella, Mrs. Croyden. Will you accept my guidance this Season?”

Alastair cast a wary look in her direction. How had they gone so quickly from a chance meeting to such a generous offer? He couldn’t help but wonder what Miss Merrick was up to. A brief look of confusion crossed her mother’s face before she replaced it with polite interest.

The social standing of a Merrick behind one’s daughter would be a coup for any mother, and Nerissa was no exception. “That is so generous, Miss Merrick. I do my best to steer among the ton and do right by Abigail, and my brother’s reputation precedes him, of course—but we are somewhat limited in our connections, as you’ve guessed.”

Alastair had entertained many thoughts of Miss Merrick the past few days, but her generous nature had not been among them. Was this to be some method of revenge? The idea was titillating more than worrisome—he was more than ready to match wits with the young lady.

“I’m happy to navigate London society and put my influence to use on Miss Croyden’s behalf,” Miss Merrick said with a saintly air. “What do you think, Major Fairfax? Shall we work together and find your niece a suitable husband?”

He was sure she meant to be accommodating, but it sounded more like a challenge. And he loved a challenge.

“Of course, Miss Merrick. I’m eager to hear your plans for Abigail.”

She looked wary. No doubt he had disclosed his amusement too soon.

“Do you know who might be of great help to us?” Miss Merrick said innocently. “Sir William Denton. He is prodigiously resourceful, and his reputation is impeccable.”

She glanced over at Nerissa and all became clear to Alastair. Miss Merrick fancied herself a matchmaker. His first assessment had been correct…his beguiling social butterfly had far too much time on her hands. He was going to enjoy winding her around his little finger.

Miss Merrick thought she could manage his family’s affairs for her amusement? Well, perhaps he could keep her busy with something else and mount a flirtation of his own. Of course, he wouldn’t go as far as seduction, though confident of his skills in that direction. But he could certainly teach her a lesson and enjoy the process. A pleasant diversion for them both.

Ignoring the niggling thought that his plans could go terribly awry, Alastair observed the surrounding ladies, all beautiful in their way, and made polite conversation until leaving after the customary hour.

Chapter Eight

The Musicale at Lady Jersey’s Home

Octavia surveyed the mirror with dissatisfaction, biting her lip. Freya stood by her skirts and barked at herself in the glass, something usually amusing, but tonight Octavia shushed her and pointed to the dog’s bed in the corner. With one last little yip, Freya trotted over and, circling twice, lay down.

“I think I should change into the green gown. Ivory is a debutante’s color.”

“Don’t you dare, miss,” Marie admonished with customary candor. Eight years as Octavia’s personal maid gave her some latitude, and she was very good. When Marie’s former mistress, a marchioness, passed away, many houses competed for her services, but Lady Amelia had prevailed.

The servant quarters at Merrick House spread over the entire third floor, boasting a large sitting room and indoor plumbing. Richard had the reputation of paying handsomely, and although exacting, he was fair.

Marie was well-versed in all matters of fashion and an excellent seamstress, so Octavia listened to her suggestions.

“The crystals sewn into butterfly embroidery on this gown are exquisite, and it’s certainly no debutante’s dress. Did I see a bowl of camellias in the morning room? A few white flowers threaded among your curls, and the diamond and pearl jewelry, hmm? But it is only a soiree, Miss Octavia, and you have been fretting over your dress for an hour.”

She blushed, shrugging her shoulders to appear unconcerned. “I’m indecisive tonight, that’s all. Let’s do the stays tighter; I detest my waist.”

“Nonsense. It’s as trim as ever. My, the fuss tonight.”

“The countess is playing, and her costume is always so wonderful,” Octavia temporized. “I just don’t want to appear dowdy.”

“As if that could ever happen.”