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 Katherine every reason to suppose that the mouse-like Miss Osborne, though lamentably lacking an eye for fashion, had somehow managed to earn the formidable Dowager’s approval.
This certainly proved to be the case, for Miss Osborne was undoubtedly a very skilful card player, and her partner no less so. They easily won the first game, and Katherine found herself having to concentrate very hard, which was no easy matter when she was having to contend with her partner’s hard-eyed scrutiny, and the frequent, penetrating steely-grey-eyed glances she found herself receiving from the baronet. None the less, her nerve, though sorely tested, held firm, and she and her partner won the second game, and took the first rubber convincingly with the final game.
‘I knew I chose wisely when I selected you for my partner, Miss O’Malley,’ Lady Charlesworth boomed approvingly. ‘A female who can hold her nerve, eh, Os-borne?’
‘It would certainly appear so, ma’am,’ he answered softly, his eyes once again firmly turned in Katherine’s direction. ‘Miss O’Malley appears to possess all the necessary requirements … Yes, she might prove to be an excellent choice.’
Chapter Three
I’ve been giving some thought to what you disclosed on the evening of my engagement party.’
The surprising admission succeeded in capturing Katherine’s attention, and she transferred her gaze from the spot beyond the parlour window, where the morning’s continuous rain had succeeded in creating a huge puddle on the terrace, to her cousin, who had been industriously plying her needle for the past half-hour. ‘About what?’ she prompted.
‘About Major Ross.’
The immediate response did not precisely please Katherine. Although his name had never once been mentioned within her hearing since the night of the party, she had been irritated by the number of times he had managed to encroach into her thoughts.
‘Before he returned to London Richard happened to mention,’ Caroline continued, ‘that Wellington himself thought very highly of the Major, and used him on many important missions.’
‘His bravery is not in question,’ Katherine pointed out, striving not to sound waspish. ‘I merely maintain that he is a heartless wretch who cares naught for the feelings of others.’
‘I’m not so certain you’re right about that,’ Caroline argued. Highly complaisant and sweet-natured though she was, she wasn’t afraid to voice an opinion if she held strong views on a subject. ‘I found myself in his company on more than one occasion during the evening of the party. I have to own, I rather liked him, even though I found his conversation a little—how shall I put it?—forthright. But Richard assured me that seasoned campaigners do tend to be plain-spoken and a little abrupt. And the Major was kind enough to fetch me a cup of fruit punch.’
‘Oh, well, that just goes to prove I misjudged him entirely, doesn’t it?’ Katherine rolled her eyes ceiling-wards. ‘Any gentleman who would fetch a lady refreshments must surely be a paragon of all the virtues!’
‘Furthermore,’ Caroline continued, smiling faintly at this blatant sarcasm, ‘Richard did furnish me with one tale about the Major that he’d heard from a fellow officer. Seemingly, appalling atrocities took place after our troops were successful in storming Badajoz. Major Ross, by all accounts, offered his protection to the wife of some French officer. I do not know all the details, you understand, because Richard didn’t consider it a suitable topic to discuss in my company. Nevertheless, what he did disclose was sufficient to convince me that any gentleman who would put his life at risk to protect a lady’s virtue must be a very honourable man. Which makes me wonder whether what you were told about him years ago was completely true.’
‘We do not know for certain that the story of his heroism at Badajoz is true either,’ Katherine pointed out. ‘You know how these tales are much embellished in the retelling.’
‘Mama was talking with him a good deal at the party. We could always ask her if she knows anything about his exploits,’ Caroline suggested, just as the door opened, and Mrs Wentworth herself entered the parlour.
Although Katherine had no wish to engage in a discussion about someone whom for years she had been happy to stigmatise as a heartless lecher, her cousin, evidently, was not of a similar mind, for Caroline hardly waited for her mother to settle herself comfortably in a chair, before she asked outright whether she was well acquainted with the gallant Major.
‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, dear,’ Mrs Wentworth responded, reaching for her embroidery. ‘When I left Dorsetshire to marry your father, Daniel was merely a boy, no more than six or seven, though I do remember his father very well. Edwin Ross was such a charming gentleman, and extremely astute. And Daniel, I feel, has grown into his image in both looks and character.’
Somehow managing to suppress a snort, Katherine made a supreme effort to concentrate on the book lying open on her lap, and ignore the ensuing conversation between mother and daughter. Unfortunately she was only moderately successful, and one interesting disclosure had her and her equally astonished cousin exchanging startled glances.
‘I didn’t realise that Major Ross was Grandpapa’s godson,’ she freely admitted.
‘Oh, yes, dear,’ her aunt confirmed. ‘Your grandfather and Edwin Ross had been friends since boyhood, and Daniel was very fond of dear Papa. Papa frequently mentioned in the letters he wrote how much he missed his godson’s visits when Daniel went out to India.’
This appeared to capture Caroline’s attention in a big way, for she immediately set aside her sewing. ‘Major Ross has been to India? Oh, what exciting lives gentlemen lead!’
‘I do not know whether Daniel himself found the experience so very rewarding,’ her mother countered, ‘in view of what took place during his absence.’
Although Katherine doggedly refused to betray further interest, she was not unduly sorry when her cousin demanded to know what precisely had happened during Daniel’s travels abroad.
‘His father passed away just a year after Daniel had set sail for India. Although his uncle, Sir Joshua Ross, did write promptly, informing him of the tragic news, it quite naturally took some time before the letter reached him. And if that was not bad enough, when the poor boy did eventually return, it was to discover that his childhood sweetheart, Julia Melrose, had married Sir Joshua’s son Simon just a few months before.’
‘Oh, poor Major Ross!’ Caroline exclaimed, and Katherine, much to her surprise, found herself experiencing a twinge of sympathy too, and could not resist asking whether there had ever been anything official between them.
Lavinia
