Chapter Eighteen #2
Robert had gone over the menu in painstaking detail with his housekeeper, Mrs. Syme, and spared little expense.
He had decided that this meal should not be deemed as a more casual family dinner, but would clearly display all the elegance of a more formal dinner party: clear beef broth, followed by steamed sole, three platters of vegetables (which were grown in his own garden, he proudly proclaimed), then beef steaks, veal, and peach fritters.
Thank heavens, he had just received the money from the auction of the Little Shepherdess painting, which allowed him to make a few small payments toward his debts and have enough to set aside and to restock the wine cellar and kitchen larder.
Above all, he knew he must continue to project the illusion of wealth.
The conversation flowed easily during the meal with Robert making sure to spread his attention evenly between the Gillinghams and Miss Kendall.
He did note, with minor irritation, that when he turned his attention to Lord or Lady Gillingham, Frederick took every opportunity to converse with Miss Kendall.
But then, Robert reflected, he himself could not monopolize her company throughout dinner without appearing rude to her sister and brother-in-law, and it would not do to have her sit mute.
Therefore, Frederick was of use to balance the discourse.
When at last the nuts, fruits, and sweetmeats were cleared away, Robert spoke.
“If our dear mama were still with us, she would surely invite you ladies to join her in the salon, while we men enjoyed some brandy and talk. But, I should think it highly impolite to send you on your way alone, so let us all go in together, shall we?”
He rose, intending to offer Miss Kendall his arm but was surprised to see Frederick do so first. He knew his brother was just being courteous, but he briefly wished he had sat Frederick across the table from Miss Kendall, rather than so conveniently on her left.
He turned to see Lady Gillingham’s lips pressed firmly together.
She clearly did not care for Frederick’s act, either.
“Shall we?” Robert said to Dorothea, offering her his arm. He watched her countenance change into a polite smile, and they exited the dining room, followed by Frederick and Charlotte with Lord Gillingham bringing up the rear.
As they entered the grand salon, he heard his brother asking Charlotte to favor them with a performance on the pianoforte.
He saw her nod and move to sit before the beautiful instrument, which Robert had just that week had tuned in anticipation of the evening.
After steering Lady Gillingham to the chair by the fire, Robert moved to the piano and shuffled through some music.
“There are many pieces here you may find you are able to play, Miss Kendall. I shall happily turn the pages for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Morton, but my skill at playing music sight unseen is not all that impressive; I should hate to force you to endure it. I have, however, several pieces which I can perform from memory. I shall play one or two, then retire from this lovely instrument and spare you any further obligation to politely applaud.” She gave him a mischievous smile.
“I am a firm believer that one should always stop performing well before the audience begins to ardently wish you to. Do you not agree?”
He bent closer and softly murmured, “Since I never learnt and am therefore unable to make use of our pianoforte, any performance on it by others is received with the greatest of pleasure, Miss Kendall. Certainly, I cannot imagine I should ever tire of hearing music which comes from your lovely hands.”
He caught a fleeting expression on her face—was it showing puzzlement or was she just uncomfortable? Had he gone too far in his effusive praise? Perhaps he should pull back a bit. He stood erect and cleared his throat. “Do you—” he began.
“Do sit down, Robert, and let Miss Kendall play,” interrupted his brother. “No artist performs to their best standards when someone is hovering about.”
Charlotte laughed and sent Frederick a broad smile. “Indeed, sir, you may have given me the very excuse I need should I stumble tonight. I shall declare it all your brother’s fault.”
Robert laughed tightly and crossed to sit on the settee opposite Frederick.
His attention was at first focused upon Charlotte as she took a deep breath, positioned her fingers, and began.
But, as the music continued, his gaze drifted to observe his brother.
He noted how Frederick sat forward—with his forearms on his knees, rather than resting his back against the settee—and how his eyes never strayed from Miss Kendall.
Eyes, Robert realized with a start, that were looking at their guest with much more than polite interest. They were filled with unmistakable adoration.
Good Lord, this is the lady my brother was speaking of the other day—the one he wishes to marry. Frederick has fallen in love with Miss Kendall!