Page 46 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

Richard struggled not to laugh. ‘Oh, my God, you really don’t know anything about women, do you?’

‘You needn’t laugh,’ Giles said angrily.

‘When you kissed her, did she try to stop you? Did she struggle?’

‘No – in fact, she seemed to like it. But what has that to do with it? I should never have done it.’

‘Agreed. But then you compounded the error by apologising.’

‘How is an apology wrong?’

‘A woman can forgive a man for sinning, but not for hurting her pride.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Giles said in exasperation.

‘Try to see it from her point of view. You kissed her, and perhaps she’d been hoping you would – you are quite a handsome chap, after all. Not in the same class as me, but I can see how some women might fancy you. But then you told her it was the worst mistake of your life, and you would never repeat it for any consideration. Are you surprised she’s furious with you?’

‘Then – what was I supposed to say?’

‘You should have said you’d been overcome with uncontrollable passion. That not to kiss her again would be a titanic struggle against your most powerful urges. That the memory of the kiss would illuminate even your deathbed. Instead you gave her to understand she was a deplorable lapse of taste on your part and that you felt only shame and loathing.’

‘For myself, not her.’

Richard patted his shoulder comfortingly. ‘It’s a good job Kitty was willing to marry you, because it would give me deep pain to have to watch you courting again, inept as you are.’

Giles shook away the hand. ‘What should I do? Should I talk to her, explain—’

‘God, no! You’d only make it worse. No, I’m afraid you’ve lost that one. If you ever have to speak to her again, I should go with the fatherly approach. Be extremely married, out-of-the-running, boring. Talk about the weather and how the crops are doing. Don’t worry, a girl like that won’t regret you for long. She’ll have plenty of suitors to wash away the memory of your unique approach to gallantry.’

‘I’m glad you think it’s funny,’ Giles said crossly.

‘Oh, I do, I do,’ said Richard.

The King had arrived with a party, had walked about a little being pleasant and retired for a few hands of cards, before going on to another supper engagement. It was as much as was expected, or needed. He did not dance any more, and his brief appearance and kind words to Rachel would secure the cachet.

While Giles was circling with an ingénue and trying not to seem bored, he was surprised to see Uncle Stuffy dancing, on his face an expression of bliss that would have suited a schoolboy unexpectedly in possession of a whole jar of jam. Giles could not see who he was dancing with – his partner was hidden by the crowd. But then an intervening couple moved aside, and Giles saw that it was Giulia.

He was astonished. He had never seen his uncle dance in public. Stuffy was only just forty, but his ways made him seem older, and as far as Giles was aware he had never shown any interest in women before. Giles had been surprised enough at his reaction to Giulia, but that he had asked her to dance! That she had accepted!

He manoeuvred his partner to keep them in sight, and Giulia, turning her head, saw him watching. She gave him a cold look, then said something to her partner, who gazed down at her and smiled rapturously.

The crowd came between them again, and Giles circled moodily with his current partner almost forgotten in his arms. He felt extremely hard-done-by. Yes, it was wrong to have kissed Giulia, but he had apologised, and it was unreasonable of her to be so very upset by it. Richard said he had hurt her pride. But they had been friends for a long time. Surely friends gave each other a little leeway when they made mistakes. He didn’t understand. He trundled his partner to the end of the dance, and went back to Kitty.

It was the supper break, and he offered his arm. ‘Shall I take you down?’

‘Aren’t you engaged to someone else?’ she said.

She looked tired, and he thought it could not have been much fun for her, sitting out. He must be nice to her. ‘Who would I be engaged to but my own wife?’ he said, with a smile.

For a moment she seemed pleased; but then her eyes focused on someone behind him, and her expression changed. He looked. Uncle Stuffy was walking by with Giulia on his arm, heading, like everyone else, for the door to go down to supper.

He turned back to Kitty. ‘Is that . . . ?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘It’s Giulia.’

‘How on earth did she get here?’ They had spent part of their honeymoon with the Lombardis, and she had been bitterly jealous of his closeness to Giulia.

He was forced to explain. ‘She was at the dig, and when it was ended, some friends of mine, the Arthurs – you remember them – invited her to come and stay with them in London. So I – invited them to the ball.’