I forgot myself when I played. I tried hard to be worthy of the music, but this time I kept some of my attention on the gaggle by the fire. Richard had his back to me, but after a little while, a few minutes at most, I saw his back gradually straighten. He bowed to the ladies, turned, and came over to the harpsichord. Miss Terry shrugged her shoulders because she knew of my prowess on the keyboard which she disdainfully referred to as my gift. It was not a gift, because I had worked so hard for it.

Richard stood by me, his attention on my hands, and occasionally he glanced at my face, his expression inscrutable. He still held my fan, but he quietly laid it down.

I finished the piece to the usual smatter of applause, and requests for more, but I smiled and bowed, and left the instrument for somebody else. I picked up my fan and led Richard to a sofa where we could sit together, away from his admirers.

“I had no idea you played,” he said.

“Everybody plays.”

“Not like that they don’t.” There was no guile now, no elegant flirting.

I tried to explain. “In a house as crowded as the Manor, there’s little privacy. With my music, even if there was someone else in the room I wouldn’t have to talk to them, I could enter my own world. So, I practised a great deal. Do you like music?”

“It’s one of my greatest pleasures. I, too, can enter a different world with its help, and believe me, I’ve needed to from time to time. I shan’t give you any flowery compliments on your playing; it would be an insult. You must know how good you are. It stands alone, without any help from me.”

“Do you play?”

“Everybody plays,” he repeated with a smile, then got to his feet. “I’ll get you something to drink. I confess I need something. My mouth is completely dry after that particular surprise.”

He came back with two glasses of wine. I accepted mine, sipped and put it down. I glanced across the room and saw Lady Skerrit watching us, as I had asked her to. I picked up my fan and spread it. “I do love you,” I said from behind it. It was enough.

For a brief moment the polite mask was dropped, and his face glowed when he lifted his glass to me. “To your eyes,” he said, and drank. When he lowered his glass he was back to the socially adept Lord Strang again. I hoped Lady Skerrit had seen, but I dared not look across to where she sat.

“Do these ladies go to the local Assembly Rooms?” he asked easily.

“All the gentry around here does.”

“You’ll be out of mourning next week. Should you like to go?” At one point I would have dreamed of nothing better than to attend Exeter Assembly rooms with my own betrothed by my side. I used to sit by the wall with a fixed smile on my face and dream my time there away until it was time to go home. I hardly left my station at all the whole evening, but now, I was happy to leave it all behind me and go on.

“Do you want to flirt with those poor girls again? You shouldn’t you know, Miss Terry has already put up a challenge to me.”

He looked amused. “Will you take it?”

“Do I need to?”

He smiled at my response. “You know the answer to that. But I promise I won’t overstep the mark. Will that satisfy you?”

I sighed. “It will have to.”

“And I know of one or two people who will arrive in Exeter early for our wedding. Lord Thwaite expressed a wish to explore the area when I last spoke to him. London will be emptying and while many people will head straight for Bath, and only come here for a few days, there are others who will use our wedding as an opportunity to see something new. Society is constantly bored, you see. I’ll see if I can muster any of them for the Assembly Rooms. The chances are, the young women here will be so taken with all the new people, they’ll leave me alone.”

The thought of that relieved my mind considerably. “In that case, I think it an excellent notion. It will also give Martha a chance to meet some of the people she’ll be expected to mix with in future, but on her own territory.”

“Then that’s settled. When is the next one?”

“The end of next week, I think.” I knew well when it was. It used to be our only distraction, and Lizzie’s only chance to show off to all and sundry.

“I’ll speak to Lady Hareton tomorrow,” he promised.

Chapter Six

Martha had no objections to our attendance at the Assembly rooms the following week.

On the Sunday I watched with amusement Richard’s and Gervase’s reactions to the family preparing for church. We attended the local parish church, and although we usually walked there, in deference to our exalted visitors, today we took carriages.

Someone flung open the main door to the Manor and the air filled with the cacophony of small children. “Walter—where is your hat?” mingled with, “Lizzie—can you lend me some gloves?” from Ruth and “Where did I put my prayer book?” from James. All at high volume, all at once.

Martha dealt with all the demands and requests one by one, patiently and steadily. I ran upstairs a couple of times to