Page 102 of Threads that Remain

“Miss Brandon.”

His bow was perfectly correct.

“Lieutenant Wycliffe’s family are distant relatives of mine. I always enjoy his conversation, and I suspect you will also.” Lady Stewart’s smile widened. “I shall leave you to get acquainted.”

Once she had moved away, Anne faced him again.

Mr. Wycliffe said, “I suspect she has done me a kindness. It gives me an opportunity to speak with you. You see I am currently on leave, so I took the opportunity to visit my parents’ estate. But I am glad I did not miss the whole of the season.”

A servant announced dinner, and the company began moving toward the dining room. Matthew stepped aside, then offered Anne his arm.

“May I escort you in, Miss Brandon?”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

As they joined the procession, he bent his head toward her.

“I hope Lady Stewart has been equally successful with the seating arrangements.”

“Are you concerned?”

“I should be disappointed if our acquaintance ended at the dining-room door.”

Anne felt a flutter of pleasure. “Then I hope you will not be disappointed.”

Lady Stewart had indeed been thoughtful. Anne discovered that Matthew was seated directly across from her.

The first course brought the usual mixture of subjects. Anne discussed the races at Ascot with the gentleman beside her while Matthew was drawn into a debate about cavalry horses. Whenever she glanced up, however, she found him looking her way.

During the second course, he addressed her directly. “Am I to understand your father is a Colonel, Miss Brandon?”

“He was, yes. Though I must admit it is nearly impossible for me to think of him in that capacity. He does not speak much of his time in the military; instead he prefers to tell us stories of the people and customs where he served. He was in the West Indies for several years and when he speaks of the place, I find myself quite transported there.”

“The West Indies,” said he with fondness. “I have never been there myself; however, there is a good chance I may be sent there. My orders will come sometime in the coming months. I always thought it would be an interesting place to see. Can you tell me what you know about it?”

Anne began retelling what her father had so often told her and Henry, usually as bedtime stories. Matthew listened with great interest and asked questions, many of which she knew the answers to. Their conversation never lagged, with dessert being served much sooner than she expected.

Later in the evening they played whist together with Margaret and Simon, and Anne found her partner had a pleasant disposition even when losing.

He asked if he might call on her, and she said she would like that.

On the carriage ride back to Berkeley Square, the Tregarths remarked that the Lieutenant was very likable company and they had invited him to join them at the theatre Friday next. Margaret asked if Anne would wish to be included.

Anne answered that she would like to very much.

After slipping under the coverlet that night she realised that London had been every bit as delightful as she had hoped. The Season promised music, laughter, new friendships, and countless entertainments still to come.

Now it had given her Lieutenant Matthew Wycliffe. And she thought that it had happened at precisely the moment nobody was watching for it.

Chapter XLVI.

The Lieutenant met the Tregarths, the Wrens, and Anne at the theatre as planned. They again enjoyed his company and Anne thought he had felt the same, though he never came near to confessing it to her.

They met again many times during the next weeks; there was a musical evening planned by a Mrs. Davis, a night at the opera, a small dinner party given at Lord and Lady Pierson’s, which found them sitting beside each other and talking all evening. There were two more balls, each time he never failed to ask her to dance two sets; and when getting an opportunity to talk in private, they always made each other laugh and found they had many interests in common. She decided he was a man of uncommon sense. She preferred his company above all others and looked for him on every occasion.

She learned that he was a second son, of a very good family in Hampshire, with an elder brother who would have the estate and a father who had purchased him his commission at sixteen rather than see a second boy condemned to a life of expectant idleness; that he had four hundred a year of his own, from a small property left him by a godmother, which he considered, and said so with perfect candour, a very modest sum to offer any young lady, and not a sum he meant to apologise for, since it was honestly come by and he had never yet met a difficulty it could not meet.

He learned, in his turn, that she sketched everything and everybody, had done so since she was old enough to hold a pencil, and had once been found, at midnight, drawing by candlelight under a desk.