Page 33 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

There were murmurs of laughter around the table, and the tension Lydia had caused subsided. With Lady Phoebe and Ashford leading the charge, the informality of a group conversation was deemed more permissible.

‘Do I know this fellow?’ Dacre asked.

Lady Morton batted him playfully on the arm. ‘How have you not heard of him, Dacre?’

‘Oh, Dacre has always been behind the times,’ Sir Waldo said dismissively. ‘He’s a military chap, isn’t he?’

‘Originally,’ Lady Hesse said, ‘but now he’s a prodigious explorer.’

‘His writings have been in all the papers,’ Lady Phoebe said, ‘and he speaks wonderfully.’

‘All the ladies adore him,’ Mr Brandon explained in stage whisper.

‘I have not met him,’ Lady Morton said. ‘But I saw his portrait at the academy this spring – divine.’

‘He’s rather a foppish young cub, isn’t he?’ Hesse said with a dismissive flick of his head. His curls, so weighed down with grease, moved not an inch.

‘Displays little self-awareness,’ Pip intoned softly, opening his notebook.

‘Oh, the notebook has made it to dinner.’ Lady Phoebe’s smile grew more fixed. ‘How amusing.’

‘Très drôle!’ Lydia agreed, rolling each ‘r’ for as long as physically possible.

Beside her, Ashford took in a sharp inhale and turned his head abruptly toward her, and for one moment, Lydia thought she might have broken him, thought he might be about to snap at her, in full view of the entire table …

‘May I offer you a morsel of turbot?’ Ashford asked.

Was that it? Was he so lily-livered as to let her get away with such behaviour – a coward and a cad?

‘No,’ Lydia said, disappointed. ‘I do not eat any creature with scales.’

‘Are you feeling quite well?’ Ashford lowered his voice to encourage her to do the same. ‘You are acting a little strangely.’

Lydia pretended she had not heard him.

‘But Miss Hesse, what did you think of the talk?’ Lydia called across the table again – as little as she wanted to distress the poor girl, she could not allow her faux pas to be brushed past so easily.

‘Oh! I – I found it touching?’ Miss Hesse said, and Lydia was about to question her further when Mr Brandon jumped into the fray, beginning a bantering conversation about horseflesh with Lord Dacre. Just as soon as that was concluding, Lydia readied herself again, but Lady Hesse picked up the reins, relaying the contents of a letter she had received just that morning from Lady Jersey. No one was looking at Lydia, anymore. It was as if they had all decided, by silent though unanimous agreement, to block her out of conversation. Lydia subsided back into her chair and – grumpily – picked up the wrong fork to cut up her chicken.

‘Lady Phoebe, I must ask,’ Lady Morton said, ‘are we to expect our surprise guest tonight? Last year’ – she turned to Pip in explanation – ‘Melville made a surprise entrance on the second evening – we were all beside ourselves!’

‘I thought Ashford would faint from excitement,’ Brandon said.

‘Something of an overstatement,’ Ashford muttered.

‘Embarrassed by emotion,’ Pip recited doggedly, making a note.

‘What does Ashford’s adoration of Melville say about him, then, Mr Hanworth?’ Mr Brandon said merrily. ‘Is he a murderer?’

‘I imagine it says I have excellent taste,’ Ashford said.

‘Oh, I quite agree,’ Miss Hesse said, eyes shining as she turned towards Ashford. ‘Melville is my absolute favourite poet.’

‘Mine too,’ Mr Brandon said hastily. ‘Ashford and I were equally excited.’

‘Yes, I seem to remember you weeping, did you not?’ Ashford said.

‘Do you?’