Page 16 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

‘I could say the same of you.’

‘I was walking Trump anyway, so I thought I might as well come this way as another.’

The hunt was moving off now, and they were silent a moment, watching, until the last horses and the foot-followers had disappeared down the street. Then Adam said, ‘It’s a cold day to be standing about. May I escort you to the Copper Kettle for a restorative cup of cocoa?’

Cocoa became instantly the thing Nina wanted most in the world; but she hesitated. Adam smiled knowingly, watching her expression. ‘You are wondering whether it’s quite proper for a married lady to visit a café with a single gentleman, even if he is the acme of respectability and the brother of her best friend to boot. Or – wait! – perhaps you just don’t like me enough?’ He buried his head in his hands. ‘The humiliation! Oh, my wounded feelings!’

She knew he was joking, but still she hastened to reassure him. ‘Of course I like you! But I was wondering if Mr Cowling . . . You see, he is very careful about appearances.’

‘“And he does disapprove of you, Mr Denbigh,”’ he supplied, imitating her tone.

It was true: her husband thought Adam Denbigh rackety. She blushed. ‘Not at all,’ she muttered.

‘My dear child, a married man is suspicious of any unmarried man who comes within twenty feet of his wife, no matter how honourable his intentions. Be he as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, he shall not escape calumny.’

‘I’m sure you are all those things, but isn’t it wrong to disobey your husband?’ she said.

‘It depends on whether his orders are wrong in the first place.’

It was a shocking thing to hear said aloud, even if Nina had thought it about the ban on her riding. There had been hints in Lady Clemmie’s meetings of something along the same lines: what right did men have to dictate to women what they might or might not do? It had not been said in so many words, but there had been an unspoken undercurrent. And the answer, of course, seemed to be that since women could not earn their own living, but were dependent on the man who kept them, they must obey. However much they sometimes disliked it.

‘You mustn’t say such things to me, Mr Denbigh,’ she said.

He repented. ‘No, I mustn’t. I apologise.’ He sounded sincere, though she still looked at him doubtfully. ‘Well, let us stand out here in the cold and talk. No-one can suspect any wrong-doing when we are subjecting ourselves to this cutting wind. They will see how unattractive I look with a red nose and you will be quite safe from gossip.’

She laughed unwillingly. ‘Your nose isn’t red. But it is too cold to stand still. I shall walk home, and you can accompany me to the gate if you like.’

He fell in beside her. ‘You are still coming to our ball this evening? Bobby says Mr Cowling is away but you will come alone.’

‘He’s had to go to Leicester to visit his factories, and won’t be back for a few days, but he did tell me I should go. He doesn’t want me to miss all the fun.’

‘And you dine there first,’ he said. ‘I think Bobby has paired us for dinner – oh, the inestimable value of the unattached man! I could dine out every day of the week, you know, just for the purpose of making numbers even.’

‘I don’t believe for a moment that Bobby cares about even numbers.’

‘Well, on the whole, you’re right, she doesn’t. But every now and then an impulse comes over her to be elegant. At all events, I shall take you in to dinner, and talk to you agreeably – though not too agreeably, given that all eyes will be upon us—’

‘Fool! Of course they won’t!’

‘That’s better. I prefer “fool” to “Mr Denbigh”. But “Adam” is best of all. Makes it sound as if we were in the nursery together, and nothing could be more innocent than that.’

‘If we’d been in the nursery together I should call you “Kipper”.’

‘Only Bobby calls me that. My other sisters call me “Oh, Adam!” in tones of disapproval and despair. But to resume – I shall take you in to dinner, and may I hope for the honour of the first dance?’

‘With pleasure,’ Nina said. ‘I don’t suppose anyone else will ask me.’

He sighed. ‘You do know how to wound a man’s vanity, don’t you?’

‘What have I said? What should I have said?’

‘That although you will be besieged by requests from every man in the room, you will spurn them all to dance with me.’

‘Fool!’ she said again, laughing.

Nina had had a new evening gown at Christmas, a present from Mr Cowling, which she had worn only once. Having been poor most of her life, she still had a mental reservation about wearing her ‘best’ things unless the occasion was exceptional, something she tried to laugh herself out of, now she was married to an immensely rich man. What are you saving it for, silly girl? she asked herself, and told Tina to put it out. It was of celadon-green silk tulle, with a three-quarter overdress of black lace, the scalloped hem edged with black net and weighted with jet beads. The sleeves were full to the elbow, with tight-fitting black lace cuffs from elbow to wrist. The contrast of pale green and black was striking, she thought – almost daring. Mr Cowling had said she looked radiant in it. With it she wore her emerald necklace and spray.

Bobby, in her usual blue, greeted Nina with a kiss and moaned, ‘You look far too good for our humble ball. We don’t even have any royalty coming! The best I can put up is the lord lieutenant.’