in suppressing a squeal of indignation, Katherine could quite cheerfully have boxed his ears, and swung away before the temptation to do so became too great.
Daniel, following her almost flouncing progress across the room with narrowed, assessing eyes, found himself experiencing both annoyance and puzzlement in equal measures. How anyone could be radiant and smiling one moment, then offhand and disdainful the next, treating a fellow as though he were a pariah, he would never know. But there again women, he reminded himself, were a law unto themselves, unpredictable and totally illogical!
He continued to watch her as she headed towards the room set out for cards, certain in his own mind that she would have left him far sooner had the opportunity arisen, and might not have conversed with him at all if she could possibly have avoided doing so. But why? Why had she taken him in such swift dislike?
He shook his head, at a loss to understand the workings of the female mind. When Captain Charlesworth had first brought him over, Miss O’Malley had betrayed clear signs of delight at coming face to face with him again so unexpectedly. He had found that initial reaction so very refreshing. She had made not the least attempt to dissemble, to pretend their paths had never crossed before. Then, quite suddenly, she had grown pale, and a look akin to loathing had flickered momentarily in those striking turquoise eyes before she had slipped quietly away.
Undeniably, Charlesworth and his delightful fiancee had been as mystified as he had himself at such odd behaviour. Yet when Miss Wentworth had returned, her face had worn a decidedly thoughtful expression, as though she were not quite certain about something. But what could she possibly have learned to his discredit during that brief absence? He had never met either young lady until today … or had he?
‘Something appears to be troubling you, Major,’ a smooth voice remarked, and Daniel discovered Sir Giles hovering at his elbow, looking remarkably well pleased about something.
He was instantly suspicious, for he knew well enough that the man beside him was not quite what he seemed. He had the utmost respect for Sir Giles’s acute intellect. None the less, if their association during the past years had taught Daniel anything, then it was not to trust the well-mannered, silver-tongued baronet an inch.
‘I swear, Osborne, that you were a cat in some former life. Like the pampered feline who lazes in the most comfortable spot in a room, you appear sublimely content. Yet, it would come as no great surprise to me to discover that you sleep with one eye permanently open.’
Sir Giles’s shoulders shook in silent, appreciative laughter. ‘Ah yes! Cats—remarkable creatures, are they not? I hold them in the highest regard. Lying quietly in wait to strike when least expected, they do their utmost to rid this world of ours of loathsome vermin.’
Extracting his silver snuffbox, Sir Giles made use of its contents before returning the elegant trinket to his pocket, while all the time his eyes stared through the open doorway leading to the card-room. ‘Lavinia Wentworth’s niece is a strikingly lovely young woman, do you not agree, Major Ross?’
Daniel followed the direction of the older man’s gaze in time to see his former companion taking a seat at the table occupied by a forbidding matron sporting an ugly turban of puce satin. ‘I did not realise that Miss O’Malley was related to our hostess,’ he admitted, eyes narrowing. ‘Then her maternal grandfather was none other than …’
‘Colonel Fairchild,’ Sir Giles finished for him, when the Major’s voice faded. ‘I understand that she lived with him for a short time. I thought perhaps you knew her.’
How very interesting! Daniel mused, his mind racing back over the years. Then it was just possible that he had met Miss O’Malley in the dim and distant past, though she must have been little more than a child at the time, for Colonel Fairchild had been dead for a number of years.
‘Such glorious hair, do you not agree?’ Sir Giles remarked, successfully recapturing his companion’s attention. ‘I myself have always had a particular weakness for auburn-haired fillies.’
‘Oh, you have, have you?’ Daniel did not believe a word of it, and wasn’t reticent about making his own views clear. ‘Well, I certainly have not! The few I’ve come across during my lifetime have all been devious little firebrands—totally unpredictable and not to be trusted. And Miss O’Malley has certainly not induced me to alter my opinion!’
It had taken Katherine a minute or two only to become aware that those of her fellow guests who were drifting into the card-room were keeping well clear of the table where she and the Dowager Lady Charlesworth now sat. Several wicked possibilities occurred to her for this deliberate avoidance, all of which were most definitely to the formidable Dowager’s discredit. She was just beginning to come to the conclusion that it was unlikely that there was anyone among the guests brave enough to challenge Lady Charlesworth, when a shadow fell across the table, and she found herself meeting the steely gaze of the distinguished-looking gentleman who had arrived with the disreputable Major.
‘Ah, Osborne!’ There was a distinct note of approval in the Dowager’s booming voice, which gave Katherine every reason to suppose that the baronet would prove to be a worthy opponent. ‘Come to challenge me and my young partner, have you? Well, sit down! Sit down, man! Have you met Miss O’Malley?’
‘I understand that you are Mrs Wentworth’s niece,’ he remarked, after Lady Charlesworth had made the introductions so loudly that Katherine was fairly certain that, had anyone else in the room been ignorant of her identity before, such was no longer the case.
Katherine nodded. ‘My mother was her elder sister, sir.’
‘I also understand that you reside in Bath.’
‘Yes, sir. I have lived there for a number of years.’
‘But not alone, I trust,’ the Dowager put in, looking faintly disapproving.
It would have afforded Katherine the utmost pleasure to inform the dictatorial lady seated opposite that her domestic arrangements were entirely her own concern, but having given way once to her occasionally volatile temperament, she had no intention of doing so again. It would have afforded her even greater pleasure to be able to say that she did live quite alone. Unfortunately she could not do so.
‘No, ma’am,’ she admitted. ‘My late aunt’s former companion still resides with me.’
‘Very proper,’ the Dowager approved, before turning her attention to Sir Giles and demanding to know if he had secured himself a partner.
‘My sister will be joining us, ma’am… Ah! And here she is, ready to do battle.’
It would have been hard to find a less formidable-looking opponent, Katherine decided, as she watched the middle-aged lady, dressed in the startling orange-coloured gown, nervously twisting the strings of her reticule round her fingers as she seated herself at the table.
The baronet’s spinster sister put Katherine in mind of the companion whom she had unfortunately inherited from her late aunt. Poor Miss Mountjoy, always eager to please, whilst bracing herself for the inevitable cutting remarks, had always displayed the same degree of nervous tension, whenever in her late employer’s presence, as Miss Mary Osborne was betraying now.
Katherine well expected the Dowager, undoubtedly fashioned in the same mould as the late Miss Augusta Fairchild, to utter some blistering remark. Yet, surprisingly enough, apart from sniffing rather pointedly as she cast disapproving eyes over the dazzling orange creation, which clashed alarmingly with her own puce gown, she refrained from comment. Which gave
