“I trust I’m not too late,” Miss Rowland murmured. She seemed nervous, her posture tense, voice tight.
“Not at all,” he said swiftly, eager to put her at her ease. “We’ve only just assembled there ourselves. We are all eager to see you,” he added.
Miss Rowland stiffened visibly, and he smiled inwardly. It seemed astonishing that anyone should be nervous of meeting his family—but then, he knew what fine people his family were. Miss Rowland turned to her chaperone, who was standing a little behind them in the foyer.
“I will be well, Judy,” she murmured. “You may take the coach home.”
“Of course, Miss Rowland.” The chaperone beamed and curtseyed.
Nicholas watched the chaperone, Judy, walk to the front door, feeling a warm fondness towards her. She was very accommodating—perhaps overly so, but he appreciated it. He might never have had the opportunity to talk to Miss Rowland as sincerely as he had if she’d had a different chaperone.
They walked slowly up the stairs.
His mother was coming down as they went up, with Henry and the girls just behind her. His heart soared as Mama beamed and dropped a small curtsey to Miss Rowland when she reached the landing.
“Miss Rowland! Welcome. I’m delighted to be able to have you here with us tonight.” Her voice was soft.
“Thank you, Lady Aldford.”
Miss Rowland’s voice was tight and strained. Nicholas smiled with encouragement. He knew what it felt like to be scared of meeting people. He felt scared every time he went anywhere. Behind Mama, Henry bowed low, eyes twinkling warmly as he greeted her.
“Good evening, Miss Rowland. A pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you,” Miss Rowland murmured shyly.
Nicholas’ gaze moved to Clarissa and Marcia, who approached eagerly, pushing their way forward towards MissRowland.
“Welcome, Miss Rowland!” Clarissa greeted her expansively.
“Very pleased to have you here, Miss Rowland,” Marcia said warmly.
They all three of them curtseyed at once. Nicholas bit his lip to hide his smile. His sisters were slightly shorter than Miss Rowland, who was not particularly tall, and Clarissa wore pale green while Marcia wore a pinkish lilac gown.
“I'm pleased to meet you,” Miss Rowland said shyly.
They all looked at each other in shy silence.
Henry beamed. “Come on, then, Miss Rowland,” he said in a warm voice. “Please join us in the drawing-room.”
Nicholas stood back to let the ladies go first and they all moved slowly up the stairs. Miss Rowland, her slight form clad in the soft lavender gown, seemed small and graceful in the big, imposing house.
It was customary to settle in the drawing room to talk before dinner. They all settled down there, perching awkwardly on the chairs around the tea-table. Nicholas felt his breath tighten in his throat. He hated awkward moments—he never had the faintest idea what to do. He glanced at his mother, but she was looking at Miss Rowland. Henry was fetching brandy for himself, and Marcia and Clarissa were sitting shyly, huddled at one end of the table.
“Do you play the pianoforte?” Miss Rowland asked Marcia and Clarissa. Her sweet, genuine tone instantly warmed the atmosphere. Nicholas let out a relieved breath as the conversation started. He felt grateful to Miss Rowland.
“I do,” Marcia said in a quiet tone.
“Oh, how lovely,” Miss Rowland replied warmly. “I like to play too. Beethoven is my favourite composer.”
“I like Mozart,” Marcia answered softly.
“I like Scarlatti,” Clarissa told them promptly, her voice loud in the sudden silence. They were all silent for a moment, then they all giggled. Nicholas smiled to himself. He hadn’t ever seen his sisters accept someone as instantly as they had accepted Miss Rowland.
“I hope you’ll all play for us later, ladies,” Henry said fondly. “Even you, Clarissa, though I know you don’t care for it much.”
“I like listening,” Clarissa told him with a radiant grin.
They all chuckled.
