Page 34 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

“Which is why an occasion such as this one offered the perfect opportunity to introduce Miss Fox to society in a more intimate setting.” Nicholas cast me a smouldering look.

Suddenly the whole situation struck me as irresistibly funny. I dropped my eyes to my plate, fighting the urge to laugh. I felt Nicholas’s hand grip my knee beneath the table, warning me that I needed to keep a hold on myself. The touch was so unexpected and sudden that I felt it tingle all the way up my leg, but it did have the benefit of shocking the giggles out of me.

“It seems to me that Nick is indeed fortunate to have such a longstanding friendship with Miss Fox.” Stefan smiled, holding his glass up in a little salute. “And I for one am glad that the next two weeks offer us all a chance to make new friends.” It was impossible to miss the competitive gleam in his eye.

“I don’t believe I know your father, Miss Fox,” Helena cut in swiftly. “I think Lord Wynter said he was in some sort of trade.”

She said the word “trade” as if it was something she would only touch with her fingertips. It seemed she didn’t care too much about being subtle any more.

“My father owns several factories,” I said, lifting my eyes to hers. “He worked hard to provide for me. He’s the best person I have ever known, and I’m proud to be his daughter.” I spoke more forcefully than I had intended.

There was a pause.

“I think it is admirable to be a self-made man,” Sophia put in, her voice trembling at her own boldness. “To have provided for his family through his own hard work.”

Another beat of silence followed this pronouncement.

“Hear, hear,” Jack jumped in. “It’s all well and good inheriting things you’ve never worked a day in your life for, but changing your own fortune through sheer effort and determination – that shows real strength of character.” He smiled at Sophia, and her cheeks flushed.

The conversation turned to other things, and Nicholas leaned towards me.

“I think you’re about to bend that fork in half,” he said quietly.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, and then I exhaled a slow breath. “I really am.”

Luckily, we were interrupted by the arrival of dessert.

As soon as I glanced at the mixture of treats on offer – all sorts of tarts and puddings and trifles and every other dainty you can imagine – I found that my appetite had, thankfully, returned, and I gratefully accepted a dish of Charlotte Russe.

It was absolutely delicious, and I closed my eyes for a moment in appreciation as the Bavarian cream melted on my tongue.

I was surprised to see Nicholas digging in gleefully beside me. He had not seemed particularly interested in the rest of the meal. He noticed me watching.

“Sweet tooth,” he said with a shrug.

For the remainder of the dinner, I chatted with the colonel and it was easy and undemanding. He seemed delighted that I had more questions about the various bait he chose to use. I had never imagined there could be so much variety.

After dinner came the part that I had been dreading – where the men stayed and smoke and drank, and we ladies had to return to the drawing room.

I desperately hoped that the men wouldn’t linger too long. I could feel strong waves of dislike coming from Agatha and Helena, and I knew that I was still under scrutiny from the dowager countess. Sophia and Cassie had been largely silent throughout the meal – Sophia had looked shy and Cassie bored. Lady Bell was obviously desperate to be on Helena’s good side so it seemed unlikely that I would find an ally in her.

As I hesitated on the threshold, Cassie patted the seat beside her in invitation.

I accepted with a mixture of relief and anxiety, but she gave no sign at all of having recognized me as her erstwhile stepsister.

“These things are just awful, aren’t they?” she said.

I hesitated. “It seems quite hard work,” I agreed finally, slumping slightly in my seat and hoping that perfect posture wasn’t going to be something that Lady Wynter had particularly strong feelings about. I did not like my chances.

“It’s all dull, polite conversation while they stuff you with food like you’re some sort of ceremonial goose.” Cassie rolled her eyes.

“I actually didn’t mind being stuffed with food,” I said, thinking dreamily once more of the Charlotte Russe. “But Colonel Thacker certainly has a one-track mind.”

“He wasn’t flirting with you, was he?”

I laughed. “Not unless you count describing every fishing spot, and possibly every fish, within two hundred miles as flirting.”

“It may well be with the colonel.” Cassie shrugged. “He’s one of my mother’s many admirers, the poor sap. She’s not giving up her title for anyone.”