is the food of love? Come and sing with her. Margaret shall play for you.’
There was no avoiding it. The sisters shepherded Lucy into place beside Ralph, music was thrust into their hands, and Margaret began to play, while the others took their seats in eager expectation. A lively version of ‘Cherry Ripe’ was followed by ‘Early One Morning’. They were familiar songs, and Lucy soon lost her nervousness and enjoyed herself, her voice blending with Ralph’s powerful tenor to produce a wonderful sound that rang around the room. When they had finished their audience clapped enthusiastically.
‘Do you know, that was really rather splendid,’ declared Sir Timothy, beaming at them. ‘I think we shall enjoy some wonderful musical evenings here at Adversane in the future.’
‘There is a lovely duet from The Magic Flute here somewhere,’ cried Caroline, pulling more music from a cupboard. ‘It would suit you both beautifully—’
‘Not tonight,’ said Ralph firmly. He signalled to his brothers-in-law to come forward. ‘We have performed, and now it is your turn to join your ladies.’
Lucy had enjoyed herself far too much. The way Ralph had smiled at her had made her pulse race again, disastrous for her peace of mind. She went over to sit next to Ariadne on the sofa. It was only large enough for two and Ariadne’s ample frame took up most of the space, so she would be able to enjoy the singing without being distracted by Ralph’s disturbing presence.
However, when the couples had agreed who would sing, and Caroline had replaced her sister at the piano, Ralph came across and perched himself upon the arm of the sofa beside her. Lucy kept her gaze fixed rigidly on the piano, but she was very much aware of his thigh so close to her shoulder. He leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers playing with the curls at the nape of her neck.
It was all very nonchalant, if a little daring, for a gentleman to lounge in such a manner so close to a lady, but at an informal house party, and when the lady in question was his fiancée, Lucy knew no one would object.
She sat upright, removing her curls from his reach, but her skin still tingled at the knowledge that his fingers were so close and, even more disturbingly, she was very aware that no more than a few inches and a thin covering of kersey separated her from that long, muscular thigh.
Her mind was in turmoil. She had no idea what was sung, or even how long it went on. Part of her wanted it to be over so that Ralph would get up and move away.Another part of her, a much more invidious part, wanted it to go on for ever so that she might lean back again and feel those strong, lean fingers playing with her curls, perhaps even caressing the back of her neck.
* * *
The singing ended. Ralph eased himself off the arm of the sofa and walked over to congratulate the performers. Lucy told herself she was delighted, relieved. Margaret returned to the piano to play a sonata and the others disposed themselves gracefully around the room. It was a warm evening, and Sir Timothy threw open the long windows and stepped outside. It was growing dark, and a servant entered with a taper to light the candles. Lord Wetherell invited his lady to accompany him onto the terrace and watch the bats. For the first time Lucy saw Caroline show signs of nerves.
‘Bats—horrid creatures! They swoop upon one so silently.’
‘But I shall be there to protect you,’ murmured her husband, holding out an imperious hand. ‘Come along, Caro.’
They wandered out. Ariadne went off to tidy away the music and Lucy was left alone on the sofa. Ralph sat down beside her.
‘No, please do not go.’ He put his hand on her arm as she went to get up. ‘I enjoyed singing with you.’
‘Did Helene sing?’ The question was out before she could stop it.
‘Of course. She was most accomplished.’
He removed his hand and her skin felt cold where his fingers had rested. Lucy suddenly felt very depressed. One could not compete with a dead love. Compete? The very idea was ludicrous. She was an employee, little more than a servant. Ralph would never think of her as anything else.
‘I should retire.’
‘But it is early yet.’
‘I am very sleepy.’
She rose, and Ralph followed her to the door.
‘I will escort you—’
‘No, please—’ She turned, knowing tears were not far away. ‘I would prefer to be alone. Please remain with your family.’
He raised her hand to his lips, and the now-familiar heat shot through her veins. She said, to distract herself, ‘We have more guests arriving tomorrow. I will need to have my wits about me for that.’
‘You managed very well tonight.’
She glanced down. The skirts of her midnight-blue silk looked black in the dim light. Mourning colours for a dead wife. She raised her head, forcing a smile.
‘I am doing what you employed me for, my lord.’
He did not correct her, and she went out, closing the door quietly behind her.
* * *
‘Ralph, where is Lucy?’ Margaret called across the room as she closed the lid of the piano.
He had no idea how long he had been standing at the door. Long enough to imagine Lucy crossing the hall and climbing the stairs, her silken skirts whispering about her and the little silver stars in her hair twinkling in the light of her bedroom candle.
‘She has gone to bed.’ He added lightly, ‘No doubt you have tired her out with your endless questions.’
‘Pho, we have been unusually restrained,’ Meg retorted, coming across the room and taking his arm. ‘There are so many questions we could have asked. Such as, why have you chosen a woman who looks so much like your late wife?’
‘She would not have been able to answer that.’
‘No, but you can.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Well, Ralph?’
‘She is nothing like Helene.’ He saw Margaret’s cynical smile and shrugged. ‘Very well, there is a passing likeness.’
‘Helene is gone, Ralph. You cannot bring her back.’
Margaret was the sister nearest to him in age and temperament. He was not used to seeing sympathy in her eyes, but it was there as she murmured the quiet words.
‘I have no wish to bring her back,’ he muttered. ‘I just want—’ He stopped. This was his burden, and he would not share it. Instead, he smiled at his sister. ‘I want you and Caro to look after Lucy. This house party will be something of a trial for her.’
Lucy rose early the following morning. After a night’s repose nothing seemed quite so bad and she decided to go out. She dressed quickly, but when she went downstairs she found that Margaret and Caroline were before her.
‘Ah,
