Chapter 3
Normanton House, that evening
“I look forward to meeting the other guests. Lady Somerville plans several enticing entertainments.”
Dee nodded as they entered the Grand Salon. Mother headed straight for their hostess where she stood talking with two gentlemen. One, Captain Robin Somerville, blocked Dee’s view of the second man.
What little she could see of him felt familiar.
She followed her mother. Then as the second man came into view, she froze.
Fontus. Impossible. Given the history he had confided in her, he could never set foot in England.
His gaze met hers, and she gave the slightest nod.
Lady Somerville made the introductions.
“I am pleased to meet you, Lord Fontus,” Lady Aitken purred. She shifted to bring Deoiridh into the group. “Dearest daughter, I present to you this charming young man, Lord Fontus Leigh.
“Lord Fontus, my daughter Lady Deoiridh Aitken.”
Deoiridh recovered sufficiently to smile and offer her hand.
He bowed over her hand before returning her smile.
Her face heated.
“Delighted to meet you, Lord Fontus.”
At that moment supper was announced. Sir Robin did his duty as escort to Lady Aitken. Dee accepted Fontus’s arm.
“We must talk,” she said sotto voce.
“Indeed,” he agreed.
“Ask me to walk in the gallery after dinner.”
“I will.” No time remained before he pulled out a chair for her and helped her to sit then found his own seat at the far end of the table.
* * *
That meal was the longest of his life. He endured enquiries into his past, present and future from Dee’s mother. Every attempt to re-direct the conversation met with polite resistance and a return to discussion of him and his circumstances.
What, he wondered, did Lady Aitken know, or guess?
“I heard murmurs that you may take up a diplomatic post?” asked Lady Somerville.
“Nothing has been decided for certain.”
Before his hostess could make further inquiries, Lady Aitken joined the conversation.
Fontus let the gossip and talk of female fripperies flow around him, adding an occasional nod or murmur.
Fortunately, the rest of the meal passed with very little of interest save the laughter and smiles shared between Dee and Robin.
He glared at them.
She’s my wife, and you know it. Keep your smiles and jokes to yourself.
“Oh dear,” Lady Somerville said. “Is something wrong with the trifle, Lord Fontus?”
He blinked. He’d lost track of the conversation at his end of the table. “I beg pardon. The trifle is delicious. Strawberries are my favorite.” He hated strawberries but nonetheless popped a large spoonful into his mouth.
His hostess smiled. “I’m delighted. For a moment, you looked decidedly, ah, put out.”
He chewed.
Lady Aitken joined in. “Indeed, Lord Fontus. Had I received such an expression from my late husband, I would have quaked in my dancing slippers.”
He swallowed as his face warmed.
“Ah, forgive my lapse in manners. It was the trifle, so to say.”
“What is wrong with it. I must tell cook.”
“Nothing is wrong. I did say it was delicious.”
“But you also said…?”
“The berries are especially sweet and remind me of a not-so-pleasant encounter with a few of Napoleon’s Imperial Guard. The matter is not one for polite conversation. You will forgive me if I do not share any details save that the encounter occurred in a strawberry field.” He lied.
Lady Somerville, placed her napkin on the table and stood. “Lady Aitken, Lady Deoiridh, let us retire to the music room, while the gentlemen drink their port. Husband, do not linger. I told Lady Aitken of your splendid voice. I very much want you to entertain us with a song or two.”
“Of course, my dear. We shall be along shortly.”
Fontus watched the ladies leave before rising at nearly the same moment as Robin to move closer to Sir Peter at the head of the table.
The port was served.
“You may leave us,” Somerville directed the footman.
They conversed about general topics of interest, including the local smugglers and highwayman, Captain Moonlight.
“Something must be done,” Sir Peter insisted.
“Have you specific plans?” asked Robin. “I am happy to assist.”
“I as well,” Fontus offered.
“No, not at this time. However, if either of you has a suggestion, I’m willing to listen.”
“Should anything occur to me, I will inform you,” Fontus said.
Robbin nodded in accord.
“Thank you, both,” Sir Peter replied. “Are you ready to rejoin the ladies.”
Fontus was more than ready,
The men trooped from the room.
Ask me to walk in the gallery after dinner.
The challenge was seeing their conversation remained private. He wanted no chaperones within hearing distance of what he must say to his wife.