‘A vast amount of money has been spent upon your education and your upbringing, Natalya. You may be assured that would not have been the case if it was not expected to yield a significant return.’
Her brows drew together. ‘You make me sound like an investment.’
He did not smile, nor did he deny it. He said in his usual, measured tones, ‘Mrs Pridham and I value you greatly, my dear. You know we were unable to have children of our own and we have tried to give you every advantage under our care. I hope you appreciate that, Natalya.’
‘Yes, sir, and it is not that I am ungrateful, but—’
‘Good, good.’ He cut her short. ‘Now, I promised you should decide if you wished to continue with your education, so tell me—am I to send a note to your dancing master, asking him not to call this morning?’
The interview was over. Natalya knew she would learn nothing more from her aunt or uncle now. Tantrums and hysterics would avail her nothing, so she gathered up her pride and made herself respond calmly to his question.
‘Yes, if you please. I have already informed Monsieur Cordonnier that I will not require more drawing lessons from him. Nor do I wish for further instruction in Italian from Signor Merino. As to my music lessons, perhaps they should continue, for a while at least.’
‘An excellent idea.’ Uncle Pridham was clearly relieved that she had not made a scene and he continued with ponderous humour, ‘We would not wish you to grow bored in Bath, would we? Very well, very well. Off you go, my dear. If you have nothing else to do, then I am sure Mrs Pridham would appreciate your help in preparing the house for your party this evening.’
‘I would indeed,’ said her aunt. ‘There is a great deal to be done, but you will need to put an apron over your gown, Natalya.’
‘I will go and fetch one, ma’am.’
Natalya left the room, disappointment weighing heavily upon her spirits. It was useless to protest further; her aunt and uncle would only remind her again that they had looked after her very well for the past four years and that she owed them a very great deal. They had given her everything.
‘Except love,’ she muttered as she made her way to her room. ‘Except love.’
Chapter Nine
Natalya spent the rest of the morning helping her aunt with the arrangements for the party, but when Mrs Pridham suggested she should spend the afternoon resting she begged to be allowed to go out.
‘I am far too excited to sleep,’ she explained. ‘It is such a lovely day that I am sure a walk in Sydney Gardens would do me no harm. I shall take Aggie with me, for propriety.’
It took her a little while to persuade her aunt to agree, but finally she was allowed to fetch her wrap and her parasol and to sally forth with her maid in attendance. However, after strolling under the trees for a few minutes, Natalya left the gardens and set off at a brisk pace along Great Pulteney Street, much to the consternation of her maid.
‘Miss, miss wherever are you going?’ cried Aggie, hurrying along beside Natalya. ‘The mistress won’t like it.’
‘My aunt will never know,’ declared Natalya, ‘unless you tell her.’ She heard the maid’s frightened gasp and added reassuringly, ‘We are going to call upon Mrs Ancrum. There can be no objections to such a visit.’
Her maid continued to lament all the way to Pulteney Bridge, where Natalya stopped and turned on her.
‘If you are so set against it, you may go back if you wish, Aggie, but I am going on to see Mrs Ancrum.’
‘But what if the mistress asks me where you’ve been?’
‘There is no reason why she should do so,’ replied Natalya. ‘And if she does, you may tell her you could not prevent me.’
‘Which is true enough,’ muttered her maid. She looked at Natalya’s determined face and heaved a loud sigh. ‘The mistress has told me often and often that I am not to let you go out alone.’
‘There you are then.’ Natalya set off again. ‘Come along!’
* * *
She arrived at the Paragon just as Mrs Ancrum was returning from the Pump Room in a chair. When she saw Natalya hovering on the pavement, she called out to her.
‘Miss Fairchild, what a pleasant surprise! Go on into the house, my dear and these capital fellows will follow.’
Natalya went indoors and watched as the carriers brought the chair up the steps and into the hall. One of them carefully helped their passenger to alight and she rewarded them generously for their efforts.
After the ladies had divested themselves of their coats, Natalya followed her hostess to the drawing room while Aggie was despatched to the nether regions of the house, where she could while away the time drinking tea and gossiping with Mrs Ancrum’s servants.
When they were both settled comfortably in the drawing room with the tea tray and a plate of small fancy cakes before them, Mrs Ancrum gave her young friend a wide smile.
‘Well, this is a pleasure I did not expect today! How are you enjoying your day, my dear?’
‘It has been sadly disappointing,’ Natalya told her bluntly. ‘I had hoped that I would learn something of my family, but my uncle says I must wait even longer. Mrs Ancrum, from remarks you have made I believe you know something of my history. Dear ma’am, I should be very much obliged if you would tell me.’ She read a refusal in the old lady’s countenance and went on quickly. ‘Forgive me if I appear very forward, but for the past four years the Pridhams have refused to tell me who I am. What I am. They promised I should learn the truth once I attained my majority, but now they tell me that is not possible and I am... I am desperate to know.’
‘Oh, my dear, how uncomfortable for you! But I might be doing more harm than good in speaking out. It is only conjecture. I have no proof, you see.’
‘Then I pray you will tell me what you believe is the truth.’ Natalya clasped her hands tightly together. ‘You have always been such a kind friend to me, ma’am. Anything you can tell me would help.’
After an inward struggle Mrs Ancrum nodded. ‘Very well. I think your mother was a young lady called Elizabeth Faringdon. She was the only child of an old schoolfriend of mine. Eliza was a sweet gel and I was very fond of her. Her mother died when she was very young and Eliza used to spend a great deal of time with us at Ancrum Hall. We were never blessed with children, you see, and it was such a pleasure to have her in the house. Then her father married again and the new Mrs Faringdon naturally wanted her stepdaughter at home with her.
‘I saw little of her after that, until her come-out. I was in London for her first Season but, bless the child, she was so giddy with excitement she had little time for an old lady like myself and the Faringdons did not encourage her to visit. You see, they had great hopes of her marrying well. I believe there was an earl and a marquess showing an interest, but, as I understand it, Elizabeth only had eyes for one man.’
Natalya caught her breath. ‘My father?’
‘Yes. I believe so. He was a diplomat from one of the embassies.’
‘You know his name?’
‘Unfortunately not. I saw him only once, when he was walking in Hyde Park with Elizabeth, but we were never introduced. He was a good-looking young man, but her parents were against her marrying a foreigner.’ The old lady shook her head, her mouth turned down. ‘It was very badly handled. They tried to force a match with the Marquess, but Elizabeth ran off with her diplomat.’
‘Is that all you know, ma’am?’ asked Natalya, when the silence had stretched on for an agonisingly long time.
‘All I know for certain,’ she replied cautiously. ‘She never contacted me, you see. I heard the diplomat fled the country and Elizabeth was cast off without a penny.’
Mrs Ancrum stopped, her face working as old and painful memories intruded.
‘I wish with all my heart that I had made more effort to tell Eliza that I was her friend, that she might confide in me during
that short London Season. But there, I thought it best not to interfere. The Faringdons would tell me nothing, save that they had disowned her, irrevocably. I tried to find Elizabeth, but without success, and later I heard that she had died giving birth to a daughter.’
‘To me.’ Natalya put her hand to her cheek. ‘The only thing I have ever known is that my mother died when I was born.’
‘Sadly, that is not an uncommon occurrence, my dear.’ The old woman sighed. ‘When the Pridhams brought you to Bath four years ago I was struck by the resemblance between you and Elizabeth. Not in colouring—you have that from your father, I think—but occasionally you have the look of her, the way she had of tilting her head to one side if something intrigued her. And you have her laugh, I think.’
‘But you cannot be sure.’
‘No. Alas, my dear, I cannot prove anything. Oh, I asked questions, but the Pridhams denied any link. However, I was made aware in no uncertain terms that if rumours about this ever got out, if you ever learned of it, you would be removed from Bath. Their reaction convinced me you were Elizabeth’s child, but I could not bring myself to tell you, if it meant I should never see you again.’
Natalya bit her lip. ‘And my parents did not marry?’
‘I do not know. Perhaps I should have tried harder at the time to discover what had become of you, but Ancrum’s health was deteriorating and we were obliged to move here in order that he might take the waters. Then, when you came to Bath, all those years later, I was afraid to look too hard, lest I should find irrefutable proof that you had been born on the wrong side of the blanket, as they say. I decided the best thing I could do was to be on hand to give you my support.’
‘Your friendship has done much to silence the gossip,’ said Natalya. ‘For that I am very grateful.’
‘At my age one does not worry about the niceties of a wedding ceremony. And besides that...’ Her fingers tightened on the arms of her chair and she added fiercely, ‘You have more breeding in your little finger than most of the so-called ladies of my acquaintance!’
Natalya sighed. ‘Society would not agree with you, ma’am. I cannot expect to make a respectable marriage if my birth is in question.’
‘Nonsense. That will not matter to a man who truly loves you!’
‘Perhaps not, but it will matter to his friends and his family.’
Natalya saw from the look on her elderly friend’s face that she acknowledged the truth of that. Any man who married her, if she proved to be illegitimate, would be shunned, pilloried by society. How could any couple expect to be happy under such circumstances, no matter how much in love they were?
Mrs Ancrum gave a loud sigh. ‘I am so sorry, Natalya. I should not have told you.’
‘Yes, you should and I am very glad you did, ma’am. Now I know the truth, I can plan for my future.’
‘Natalya, we do not know if it is the truth!’
‘I cannot believe my aunt and uncle would be quite so reticent if they were not ashamed of my origins.’
Mrs Ancrum had no answer to that and for a while silence reigned, broken only by the ticking of the clock.
At last, Natalya sighed. ‘It grows late. I should get back.’
‘What will you do?’
‘I need to talk to the Pridhams. Until today they were my legal guardians and they have looked after me for four years. I owe them something for that, I think.’ She rose and went over to kiss the old lady’s cheek. ‘Thank you for being honest with me, ma’am.’
Mrs Ancrum gripped her arm. ‘I shall always be your friend, my love. Come to me, if you are in need.’
In need! Destitute, perhaps, if she quit the Pridhams’ house. She pushed aside the thought and summoned up a smile.
‘Thank you, I will remember that. And you will come to my party this evening?’
Mrs Ancrum patted her cheek. ‘Nothing would prevent me, my dear!’
* * *
Natalya walked slowly back to Sydney Place, trying to decide what she should do. If Mrs Ancrum was correct, she was the natural daughter of a gentlewoman, but as such, why spend so much upon her education and on teaching her the accomplishments society required of a lady? It would have cost less to provide her with a dowry sufficient to tempt an impoverished gentleman.
Or they might have placed her with some acquaintance who required a governess. Why were the Pridhams so anxious to keep her single? Was she destined to become the plaything of some rich man? Her extensive reading had taught her such things happened. Perhaps she was intended for some fate so dark, so unthinkable she dare not imagine it?
Oh, fiddlesticks, be sensible, Natalya! You are not the heroine of some Gothic novel! This is Bath, for heaven’s sake. You would do well to stop allowing your imagination to run riot and demand your uncle tell you the truth!
Fortified by this self-administered homily, Natalya quickened her step and she entered the house, determined to seek answers immediately. However, she was thwarted when she learned that Mrs Pridham was lying down in her room and Mr Pridham had gone out and would not be returning until dinnertime. Natalya could do nothing but curb her impatience and wait.
* * *
Aggie nestled the final white rosebud into her mistress’s black curls.
‘There, miss. As pretty as a picture!’ She met Natalya’s eyes in the mirror and beamed in delight.
Natalya wished she could share the maid’s unalloyed pleasure. No fault could be found with her hair, swept up to accentuate the graceful line of her neck and arranged in artfully loose curls about her head. The white roses looked like stars against her raven locks and had been chosen to complement her white-satin gown with its overdress of white muslin, embroidered with silver.
Natalya sat very still while Aggie clasped the single string of pearls around her bare neck, then she slipped the matching ear-drops into place. The faint iridescence from the pearls provided the only hint of colour and Natalya thought she looked like a statue, pale and bloodless. She had had no opportunity to speak privately with her aunt or her uncle and the speculation still whirled about in her head, despite her attempts to convince herself there was a reasonable explanation for everything.
Behind her, she heard Aggie give a loud, ecstatic sigh. ‘You look like a princess!’
The idea made Natalya laugh. That was one solution that had not occurred to her, although it was probably no more unlikely than her lurid imaginings. Heartened, she bit her lips and pinched her cheeks to put some colour in them before she made her way downstairs.
A few guests had been invited to join them for dinner. Mrs Ancrum and the Grishams were there, as well as Lord Fossbridge and Colonel Yatton, and Mrs Pridham had made a point of inviting Laura Spinhurst and Verena Summerton, along with their parents, to ensure Natalya had young friends of her own at the table.
My aunt and uncle have gone to a great deal of trouble for my birthday, thought Natalya, as she walked into the crowded drawing room. Your suspicions are not only nonsensical, they are ungrateful, too.
Smiling, she took a glass of wine. It was her birthday. Tomorrow she would ask her aunt to tell her about her parents, but this evening she would try to forget all about that and enjoy herself.
* * *
Candles were already burning in the windows of the Pridhams’ house when Tristan arrived. He supposed he was what would be called fashionably late, but he had debated whether to come at all. Finally he had decided he should attend, if only to take his leave of Natalya. After all, with Freddie no longer in Bath there was little reason for him to stay. Nor was there any reason to come to the party, for that matter. In truth, he had been surprised to receive the formal note from Mrs Pridham, following Natalya’s invitation for him to attend, but when he walked into the crowded drawing room he realised that everyone of standing in Bath had been invited to celebrate Miss Fairchild’s coming of age.
He soon notic
ed, however, that apart from young Grisham he was the only bachelor present under sixty. A wry smile twisted inside him. The Pridhams saw him only as Freddie’s uncle, not a suitor for their niece’s hand. What the devil did they mean by keeping her so hedged and protected? Was there some secret about her birth that they dare not tell a prospective husband? Perhaps they were merely eccentric. Well, if that was the case, Natalya was one-and-twenty now and she could choose to do whatever she wished.
The double doors between the two reception rooms on the first floor had been thrown open, but even so the room was crowded and, since everyone was trying to make themselves heard against the chatter, it was noisy, too. He saw Natalya standing beside Mrs Ancrum’s chair and crossed the room towards her. She was bending a little to catch something the old lady was saying and he was afforded the delightful view of her creamy breasts rising from the low-cut corsage.
Sudden and unexpected desire slammed through him and he fought hard to conceal it. He dragged his eyes to her face, but even that was not without its dangers. By heaven, but she was beautiful. Hauntingly so with her white gown almost glowing in the candlelight. The arrangement of her black hair, piled high on her head, accentuated the long, slender neck with its single strand of pearls. The fine bones of her face were as cleanly defined as sculpted marble. An ice maiden, he thought. Then she looked up and he saw there was fire in her eyes, which were huge and luminous beneath the gently arching brows. She held out her hand to him.
‘Lord Dalmorren. I am so pleased you could come.’
He bowed over her fingers. The smile trembling on her lips lifted his spirits. Tristan glanced towards Mrs Ancrum, but she was already deep in conversation with Colonel Yatton, sitting beside her. He turned back to Natalya.
‘You are looking very well this evening, Miss Fairchild.’
She looked down at herself and grimaced. ‘I feel like a sacrificial virgin.’
‘Oh, why should that be?’
The Mysterious Miss Fairchild (HQR Historical) Page 12