Chapter Six
The Elphinstone ballwas held in a mansion north of the city, set in acres of formal gardens. Lanterns dressed the trees along the driveway of Fairgrove Hall, and braziers lit up the terraces. Their hostess, Lady Arabella Elphinstone, a slender, fair-haired woman in her late-twenties, greeted them in the vestibule. Her much older husband had died several years ago.
“Lady Elphinstone.” Robert kissed the lady’s fingers. “Allow me to present my bride, Kate, Lady St. Malin.”
“Lady St. Malin.” Arabella curtsied.
“How do you do, Lady Elphinstone?” Kate caught the sharp expression of dislike in Arabella’s eyes, before the countess turned to give Robert a flirtatious, intimate smile. Could there be a history of dalliance between them?
“I had heard the rumour, St. Malin, but I must say I did not believe it.” Arabella spoke as if Kate didn’t stand before her. She opened her fan and fluttered it gracefully like a merry lady, just as Brigitte had demonstrated. “An unusual man, your uncle, was he not?” Although she spoke to Robert, her eyes rested on Kate. “Not at all conventional. Do you think the poor man was in sound mind at the end?”
“Why would he not be?” Kate asked before Robert could answer her.
Arabella’s delicate brows rose. “Oh? Because of his odd behavior?”
“Was it so odd to not always like those of his own class?” Kate opened her fan and gave it an angry flutter and closed it with a snap. Brigitte would be proud of her.
Arabella tittered. “But far superior to the lower classes, surely.”
“Lady Elphinstone.” Robert bowed and took Kate’s arm and drew her toward noise erupting from the ballroom at the top of the stairs. “You must learn to treat anything you see as a slight with grace. It doesn’t do to make enemies.”
“So you agree it was a slight?”
“If so, a very subtle one.”
“Meant only for me,” Kate said. “And she insulted your uncle. Why didn’t you stand up for him?”
Robert made no comment.
Feeling socially inept and a little hurt, Kate longed to leave, and the night had not yet begun. “I’m not used to being insulted in such a fashion. Country folk don’t hide behind snide innuendo. They call a spade a spade.”
“I’m sorry if you think Lady Elphinstone has insulted you. But please do not allow it to spoil your evening.”
“She looked at you as though she had a prior claim on you.”
He pulled his arm away. “What!”
“And does she?” Kate searched his eyes, but he glanced away.
As if he feared they might cause a scene, he tucked her arm back into his. “A lady does not ask her husband such things.”
“I only wish to learn the truth,” she said faintly.
He squeezed her arm. “Forget about the truth. In this town it is more important to learn discretion.”
“Then perhaps I shall not like it here.”
The butler announced them.
Kate stepped into the ballroom at Robert’s side, awestruck by the scene before her. A minuet was in progress, the ladies and gentlemen in their silks and satins gracefully executing the steps. The high-ceilinged room was awash with color, from the dancers on the floor to the crowd milling around the edges, to the large urns of hothouse flowers, the air smoky from the hundreds of candles, and the massive chandelier casting fractured light over on the scene.
Robert smiled and nodded to someone in the crowd. “Shall we discuss this later? Do you want to cause gossip before the night has even begun?”
Her chin raised, she rested her hand lightly on his arm as they proceeded further into the ballroom.
“Smile, Kate. You have a very engaging smile.”
Kate almost stopped and turned to him at this unexpected and perfectly timed compliment. She smiled as everyone crowded around them offering their felicitations and asking Robert why he’d done them out of a wedding at St. Paul’s. Robert began to introduce her. Their names she would never remember, and after a while, their faces became a blur.
