He took it, squeezed it gently in acknowledgment, and bowed.
“Good evening, my lady. I am honored to have been invited.”
Her eyes sparkled up at him. “I especially wanted to make up for my misjudgment and hoped this dinner party will serve as a satisfactory apology.”
Stunned by her frankness, especially in front of Quinn, who didn’t have the grace to bugger off and leave them in private.
“It was unnecessary,” Matthew returned. “Anyone would think what you thought, and the fault for your opinion of me rests entirely upon my shoulders.”
She smiled sweetly at his words. And they were back to being upon solid footing. Now, he could only hope there was no mucking around with giving him another dining companion.
Her parents entered the room at that moment, making sure everyone had a drink so they could toast to one another’s health. After about twenty minutes of idle prattle, in which Purity and all the other ladies made a point to greet and speak with each of the bachelors, they went in to dinner.
As Matthew had hoped, Purity let him take her arm and his name card was next to hers.
Did this signify what he hoped?Fervently, he wanted to give up the ruse of finding a wife when the woman he most desired was beside him.
At the very least, it sent a message to the other bachelors that he was being singled out with honor. Moreover, he would acknowledge such by being on his best behavior. He would be a saint, not even looking down her décolletage.
Whoops!That was precisely what he was doing, and he quickly averted his eyes, not peeking even once again.
Strangely, Matthew enjoyed the evening anyway, despite the impossibility of getting her into an upstairs room for the most hurried of trysts. Purity’s company throughout dinner was exactly like her eyes, sparkling, entirely different from the quiet, disapproving female beside whom he’d sat at the Fenwicks’ table. And even though conversation darted across and around the table, he still felt connected to her by her glances and short discussions with him alone.
After the fine meal, as expected from an earl’s household, they all retired to a large salon at the back of the house overlooking the garden. None of the gentlemen were invited to remain in the dining room for brandy, since they could do that any time.
Instead, port, pale sherry, and Indian Madeira were offered while the ladies wishing to sing or play the piano told Lady Diamond, who quickly arranged the order. After stretching theirlegs and sipping their drinks for a few minutes, the guests settled onto arranged chairs for the evening’s performances.
At the tail end, Purity’s mother nodded in her direction.
Since Matthew was seated beside her, he felt her sigh.
“My turn to display my talents,” she whispered.
He chuckled, not caring a fig whether she could sing or play. He’d listened politely to the other ladies but hadn’t been particularly moved, even by a good voice singing “Love Always” or a bad one taking on the positively endless “Tragical Ballad of the Lady who Fell in Love with Her Serving Man.”
By the final stanzas of the latter, Matthew was ready to hang himself by the curtain scarf if he thought the rod would stand his weight.
After it came an adequate rendition of one of John Field’s “Nocturnes,” and Matthew had thought the evening’s entertainment was improving. Regardless, it seemed silly to think any young lady ought to be of an amateur standard high enough to entertain a roomful of criticalton, especially for the purpose of obtaining a husband.
After all, Matthew wasn’t about to whip out a dueling pistol and demonstrate what a good shot he was.
However, when the first notes of Beethoven’s “Für Elise” flowed from under Purity’s fingers, Matthew could tell she had undertaken her piano instruction as she did everything in life, with determination to do it correctly and well.
In her case, that meant being far beyond capable. She must have practiced many hours to make the playing appear effortless. What’s more, he could understand why their hostess had saved her daughter for last. It would not have been fair to the other ladies to follow such an astonishing performance.
Along with everyone in the room, he remained hushed and enraptured, leaning slightly forward in his seat, breathing as quietly as possible until the end. When the final soulful,heartbreaking notes died out, they all clapped enthusiastically. Purity stood and curtsied to her audience.
Rising spontaneously to his feet, Matthew clapped harder than anyone and roared his approval.
“Brava!” he called out.
At his reaction, the room fell silent again. Purity stared at him, cheeks blooming with color, and gave a barely discernible shake of her head. The other guests looked from her, to him, and then away with awkward glances.
Chastised, Matthew took his seat once more. He really did need lessons in etiquette. If he’d done that at a concert hall, he would have been joined by the multitude of listeners. Apparently in a private salon, his response was supposed to be restrained.
Purity didn’t return to her seat. Instead, Lord Diamond announced they were returning to the drawing room where there was a treat to top off the evening.
Trays of syllabub met the guests’ eyes when they entered, but Matthew wasn’t interested. Although he very much enjoyed the traditional English concoction, having missed it while in France, he didn’t take a serving. Even knowing this had been freshly made while they listened to the music, for the cream and white wine had not separated from the fruit juice in the glass dishes, his only interest was Purity, who was keeping her distance.
