Page 32 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

“Cassie,” I said, hoping that I was giving nothing away under that interrogative look. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“And this is my good friend Jack Waterford,” Nicholas said, resuming his introductions. He had no idea how interested I was in my stepsisters, of course.

I was surprised to hear him speaking so warmly of anyone, let alone the man who stood before me. Jack Waterford was a handsome, copper-headed man, probably only a couple of years older than me. His smile was full of humour, and his blue eyes twinkled.

“It is good to meet you, Miss Fox. Nick has talked of little else since you arrived in town.” Jack nudged Nick in the side.

“It is always nice to be able to catch up with old friends, Mr Waterford,” I said.

“And to make new ones, I hope,” Jack replied.

Stefan had clearly had enough of being ignored – I had been careful to avoid looking over at him while all of these introductions took place – and he interrupted us. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I am going to have to steal Miss Fox away. You see, she owes me a dance.”

“We can hardly break into dancing in the drawing room,” I pointed out.

“I don’t see why not,” Stefan teased, “but I suppose I will settle for pleasant conversation. As long as you remember that your next dance, whenever that may be, is mine.”

“I’m afraid I’m terribly forgetful sometimes,” I said, fingering the fringe on my shawl.

“Ah,” Stefan purred, “but I will be there to remind you.”

The door opened, and the butler, Tookes, appeared.

“Dinner is served.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I was led into dinner by Jack – he being a mere mister, and I a mere miss – just as my etiquette book had advised. As the daughters of a baron, Agatha and Cassie may not have been titled, but they were honourables, and therefore far above the offspring of a factory owner in the pecking order. We were an odd number, but Nick solved this by offering one arm to his grandmother, and another to Lady Bell.

In the dining room, I found that I had been seated between Nick and Colonel Thacker. Stefan was as far away from me as possible. Helena was taking no chances.

“I’m sorry about the slightly odd arrangements,” Helena said. “Thirteen is such an awkward number. But when a last-minute addition is as charming as Miss Fox, I’m sure we can all overlook it.”

Ping. The first of what I was certain would be many shots fired during this meal.

“It’s kind of you to include me, Lady Scott-Holland, particularly at such short notice,” I said meekly. “I hope Lord Wynter didn’t put too much pressure on you. He can be maddeningly high-handed at times.”

Further down the table, Jack smothered a laugh. My eye caught his and he winked. Apparently, he enjoyed hearing someone tease his friend.

I knew that Helena wouldn’t want to risk offending Nicholas and so there wasn’t much she could say, except, “No, no, my dear, you must not think of it.”

Nicholas turned towards me and murmured, “High-handed?” His lips were close to my ear, so close that the words were almost a caress. I fought the urge to squirm. Did this appearance of flirting need to feel so convincing?

“We’re in polite company,” I murmured back. “Otherwise I would have used different words.”

“You seem to have rattled our hostess,” Nick replied in the same low tone.

“And you seem to have rattled your prince.” I knew without looking that Stefan’s eyes were on us. I saw Nick’s gaze flicker over my shoulder, and he smiled.

“Such a beautiful room, Helena,” I heard Lady Bell exclaim. “And a beautiful table as well.”

She wasn’t wrong.

The room was decorated in a rich red paper, threaded through with gold, with a darker burgundy-and-gold border at the top. The tall windows were framed with heavy crimson velvet drapes. Like the drawing room, it felt like we were inside a jewellery box.

The table was gleaming mahogany dressed with crimson roses, the finest crystal glassware, silver cutlery polished until it shone like a mirror, and heavy silver candlesticks. Tall, ivory candles flickered, casting everything in an intimate glow.

It seemed that every room in the house had been given Helena’s opulent treatment. In one way it made my job easier, not to have so many constant reminders, but I felt a pang over it, nonetheless. I preferred the rooms as they had been: slightly shabby, comfortable and cluttered. It felt as if my family had been erased.