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Eleanor looked up and said with resolution, ‘You’re right, as always, Uncle Charles. I shall be amenable from now on.’
He laughed and said, ‘Not too amenable, Eleanor. I enjoy our discussions. Don’t become like all the rest!’
That evening Eleanor found it impossible to remain unaffected by the excitement and glamour of a really large ball. The splendid rooms, lavishly decorated with artificial fountains and fantastic pyramids, were impressive by any standards, and the dresses and jewels of the cream of London society were a rare sight. Her own dress, though modest in comparison, suited her very well, she thought. It had been made originally by the best dressmaker in Taunton, and had a bodice made of blue-green silk, with a skirt of white sarsnet. Her aunt had looked at it thoughtfully, pronounced it delightfully simple and had then taken it away. It had appeared a few days later with an overskirt of blue-green gauze, embroidered round the hem in blue, green and gold, and caught up at the side with a knot of matching ribbons. Her efforts had turned a pretty dress from a local dressmaker into a garment worthy of the highest London circles. The result was eye-catching and very flattering.
But, lovely as the dresses were, impressive though the rooms looked, to Eleanor’s mind nothing could outshine Marianne Anstey. The fairy princess was stunningly beautiful in a very simple white silk dress. Her pale gold hair was caught back on top with a knot of pale pink roses, and fell in graceful curls to the nape of her neck. More pale pink roses were clustered at her waist, matching the delicate colour in her cheeks. Eleanor, along with many others, could hardly take her eyes off the girl, and no one was surprised when the ambassador kept more important guests waiting while he greeted this exquisite creature.
‘The embodiment of every man’s dreams, wouldn’t you say, Miss Southeran? A lovely damsel in distress, waiting for her knight to rescue her. And what a prize!’
Eleanor turned round with a start to find Mr Guthrie immediately behind her. She looked round for her aunt, but the Walcots were some distance away, having been separated from their niece by the crowd. Mindful of her promise to her uncle, Eleanor said, ‘If report is true, her face is her only fortune, sir. The knight in question may not have to rescue her from dragons—only her own, undeserved penury.’
‘Yes, of course. I am cast as the dragon in this fairy-tale, “if report is true”, is that not so, Miss Southeran? Well, it looks to me,’ he swept on without waiting for her reply, ‘as if the knight is about to make his appearance. More than a knight—a viscount, no less!’
The French ambassador had finally released Miss Anstey, and she had rejoined the group of fashionably dressed people with whom she had first arrived. Among them was a young man who was now talking most earnestly to her.
‘Robert Morrissey, heir to an Irish earldom. A very worthy candidate, don’t you agree?’
‘Since I know neither the lady nor her knight, I cannot tell, sir,’ said Eleanor coolly, disliking the thread of mockery running through Mr Guthrie’s words.
‘Well, I think it will do very nicely—it will at least relieve the worst of her fond mother’s anxieties.’ He bowed and disappeared as abruptly as he had come. Eleanor didn’t know whether to be angry or pleased, but saw that her aunt and uncle were about to join her again, and was glad that awkward explanations had been avoided. She asked her aunt about the Ansteys’ party.
‘They are with their cousins, the Verekers—the ones who live in Berkeley Square. And the young man who is paying such particular attention to Marianne Anstey is Lord Morrissey. Would you like to meet them?’
She took Eleanor over to the other side of the room and made the introductions. Mr and Mrs Vereker were an amiable couple, who were clearly enormously proud of their beautiful protégée. Mrs Anstey was soberly dressed and stayed quietly in the background, pleased to let her cousins take charge. Eleanor, who was guiltily aware that she had spent half an hour in the park that afternoon with Mrs Anstey’s reported enemy, was prepared for some coolness, but when they were introduced the lady smiled pleasantly enough, if somewhat timidly. Marianne proved to be as amiable as she was beautiful. Her manner was a delightful mixture of modesty and charm, and Lord Morrissey’s attentions had brought an appealing flush to her cheeks and a sparkle to her lovely eyes. He was obviously well on the way to falling in love, and Eleanor privately agreed with Mr Guthrie’s words that it might do very nicely.
After a few minutes Lord Morrissey made his excuses and took Miss Anstey off towards the ballroom. A young man Eleanor had met at a previous party came up and took her off as well, and soon the ball was well on its way. Though she did not quite dance every dance, Eleanor was seldom without a partner, and received a good many compliments on her appearance. She found herself enjoying the evening. She had just returned from a set of country dances and was standing with her aunt and uncle when she saw that the ambassador himself was approaching them. She stood back modestly in order to allow him to speak to her uncle, but then saw that Mr Guthrie was with him. She looked anxiously at her aunt. Lady Walcot was smiling at the ambassador, and though the smile faltered a little when she saw his companion she quickly recovered.
‘Lady Walcot, I am enchanted to see you so well,’ said His Excellency. ‘I see that you have lost one daughter only to gain another—and such a pretty one! Mademoiselle?’
Eleanor curtsied low and blushed as the ambassador took her hand and kissed it. He glanced mischievously at Mr Guthrie. ‘And now, Lady Walcot, I see that your niece is not dancing at present. That is quite wrong. May I present Mr Guthrie to you as a most desirable partner for the young lady?’
Eleanor had difficulty in suppressing a smile. Her aunt was undoubtedly outraged by a manoeuvre which made it impossible for her to refuse, but no one could have guessed it from her demeanour. She smiled graciously, then inclined her head.
‘How can anyone refuse you, Ambassador? My niece would be delighted, of course.’
‘Excellent! And I shall take you and Lord Walcot to the refreshment tables—I have a champagne there which will please you, I think. Come, my friend Guthrie will take good care of the pretty niece, n’est-ce pas, Jonas?’
‘Lady Walcot may have every confidence in me, Ambassador,’ said Mr Guthrie smoothly, whereupon Lord Walcot made a curious noise which he was able to turn into a cough. Mr Guthrie raised an eyebrow, then turned to Eleanor. ‘Miss Southeran?’ he said, offering his arm, and Eleanor, with an apologetic glance at her aunt, moved forward. Lady Walcot exchanged a long look with Mr Guthrie and then turned to accompany the ambassador, and Eleanor’s uncle, still amused, shook his head and followed his wife.
‘That was not well done, sir!’ said Eleanor severely as they walked towards the ballroom.
‘Not well done? Well, upon my word, I wouldn’t know how a man could do it better! To get His Excellency himself to plead my case…what more would you expect? The Prince Regent?’
Half laughing, Eleanor said, ‘You know very well what I mean, Mr Guthrie! It was to pay my aunt back for refusing you last night, was it not?’
‘You underrate yourself,’ he said with a smile. ‘There were other merits in the idea.’ Then he stopped and said, ‘But there’s something you should know about me, Miss Southeran. When I play, I don’t take chances. I play to win.’
‘And the prize in this case? Was it worth calling out such big guns?’
‘Well, now,’ he said softly, ‘it depends on what you mean by the prize. Victory over your aunt? An opportunity to dance with you? Or…what?’
Surprised by his tone, Eleanor looked at him, which was a mistake. He was looking down at her with amusement and something more disturbing in his eyes. She said uncertainly, ‘If you are trying to flirt with me, Mr Guthrie, I must tell you that I don’t appreciate it. I prefer sensible conversation such as we had this afternoon to…to silly compliments and empty phrases.’
‘I assure you, I was not trying to flirt with you. And if I were capable of flattery—which I am not—I would tell