‘What did you think of the farce?’ asked Randall when the performance was ended.
They were waiting in the foyer for his carriage to come to the door. The crowded chamber was brightly lit and Mary kept her smile in place, knowing that speculative eyes would be upon them.
‘It was very good.’
‘Liar,’ he said, without heat. ‘I do not think you laughed once.’
‘My thoughts were elsewhere.’
‘Would you like to tell me?’
‘No.’
‘Ah. I understand.’ He briefly touched her fingers as they rested on his sleeve.
That was the trouble, she thought miserably. They understood each other so well. At times there was no need for words. If only—
‘Lord Randall!’
A shrill voice accosted them and Mary saw a matron in a fashionable bronze gown bearing down on them, the ostrich feathers in her turban nodding wildly.
‘Lady Morrisey.’ Randall’s greeting was polite, if unenthusiastic.
‘Sir Timothy told me you were in Brussels.’
The lady chattered on, her inquisitive eyes constantly darting from Randall to Mary and her conversation so pointed that the earl had no choice but to make the introduction.
‘Miss Endacott, how do you do. Have you been in Brussels long?’
‘About eight years, ma’am. I live here.’ She added, a touch of defiance in her voice, ‘I run an academy for young ladies.’
‘Ah, that explains why I do not know the name, I have no daughters.’ Lady Morrisey gave a trill of affected laughter and turned her attention back to the earl. ‘I am off to meet Sir Timothy now, at the Appletons. He is not one for the theatre, you know, and much prefers to enjoy himself at cards, so he has gone directly to their little party. Are you going, my lord
?’
‘No, ma’am, I have already made my apologies.’
‘Oh, but you could retract, I am sure. Why do you not bring Miss Endacott with you? There could be no objection, I am sure. There are so many officers in Brussels now that our parties are always in need of more ladies! Do say you will come, my lord. Sir Timothy would be pleased to see you again, and the Appletons’ gatherings are always such lively affairs.’
Randall looked down at Mary. ‘It is still early, would you like to go?’
Mary assented. A few more hours in Lord Randall’s company, even if they were never alone, was better than the alternative, to return to the Rue Haute and her lonely bed. It was there, in the dark reaches of the night, that she would allow the truth to close in upon her and she would soak her pillow with tears of longing for a man who could never be more than a friend.
* * *
The Appletons had rented a house near the park and their rooms were overflowing by the time Randall and Mary arrived. There was a predominance of uniforms and the earl was greeted on all sides by his acquaintances and by fellow officers. This was his world, Mary knew no one, but it was not by chance that Mrs Appleton had become an acclaimed society hostess. When Randall joined a group of officers the lady drew Mary away to introduce her to some of her other guests.
Mary was no shy débutante, she had been in the world long enough to be at ease in company and she could converse on a wide range of subjects. Randall was occupied elsewhere and not by the flicker of an eyelid would she betray that she would rather be at his side than discussing the latest fashions with an overdressed matron and her two giggling daughters.
It was inevitable, with so many officers present, that the conversation would turn to the forthcoming battle, and speculation was rife as to how soon they would be in action. Randall was caught up in such a discussion, but all the while he kept an eye on Mary as she made her way around the room. His heart swelled as he watched her. She carried herself with confidence, laughed and chatted as easily with a crusty old brigadier as she did with a shy young girl who looked as if this was her first society party. She was much more at home than he was at this sort of gathering.
She would make a good wife.
He stifled the thought. Soldiers were better off without wives. And libertines should never marry.
When the group dispersed he made his way across the room to where Mary was standing. He scooped two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and handed one to her.
‘Here, Mary, I hope you have not been too uncomfortable without me. I did not mean to abandon you.’