Dropping her head, she laughed. ‘No. Alas, no. You are right. My two younger sisters are nothing like Kitty and Lydia. Helen and Becca are still more in love with mice and snakes than they are with men. And I do not think Helen could flirt even if her life depended on it.’
He snorted. ‘Then it is a good thing that she is always carrying a snake. Perhaps it could save her.’
Frederica wrinkled her nose as she smiled winsomely. ‘I am sure she and Becca are finding all sorts of reptiles in Greece. How I wish I was there with them.’
‘And not here with me?’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
Picking up his hand with both of hers, she squeezed it. ‘Oh, I am having a lovely time here with you. It is only that sometimes as the middle sister, I feel a little left out. Like poor Mary Bennet. Becca and Helen are closer to each other than they are to me. And Mantheria has always been a bit aloof emotionally since Elizabeth died. She has never tried to make me her confidant. Even when I travelled with them to Italy, she kept everyone at a very polite and correct distance. She is still playing the role of the perfect daughter and duchess. It must be exhausting.’
Samuel understood how she felt. Ever since Charles died, he had not known where he fit with the Stringham sons. Wick and Matthew were a pair and he trailed behind them. Not that the Stringham brothers had been anything but good to him. He was never bullied at Eton because of Wick, and if he ever needed help with his studies, Matthew had been kind enough to tutor him. But it was not the same being the third person—the one on the outside of the pair.
‘They all love you.’
‘I know,’ she said, bringing his hand to her cheek and rubbing it against her smooth skin.
‘I felt the same way when Charles died,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘My brother, Jeremy, is so much younger than me, and Charles was like a brother to me. And I resented when you tried to fill his place when we were children.’
A tear slid down her curved cheek as her lips smiled. ‘No one could ever fill Charles’s place. He was nothing but light.’
Nodding, he swallowed heavily. ‘I do not think that I have been very good at letting people close to me since then. I have many friends but, like you, no confidants. And sometimes I think it is easier not to care as much, especially in the army. You bury your friends and must continue on without them.’
‘Since you knoweverything and nothingabout me,’ she whispered, ‘could you let me become a close friend? I promise that I will keep your secrets.’
The words had not been a studied line. No other flirtations would ever be like speaking to Frederica. The other women played by the rules and Frederica made her own. They had been childhood enemies, but now could they be friends? Should he trust her with the burdens of his soul? How his mother had leaned on him at such an early age that it was crushing? Could he tell her the truth about his father’s life and death? The real reason that he had joined the army. But shame filled his throat and the words would not come.
‘When I know more of your nothings, I can tell you my everythings,’ he said lightly, steering their conversation away from the deeply personal.
Releasing his hands, her expression became guarded and civil. ‘I also devour every Gothic romance I can get my fingers on. I think I have read almost every book in the lending library. Stories help alleviate the boredom of the Season.’
Society and the Season were safe topics. Impersonal ones. He raised one eyebrow. ‘You do not enjoy the London Season?’
Frederica took a drink of milk, before shrugging one beautiful shoulder. ‘I do not mind it, per se. It is just for once I would like to do something that truly matters. Not simply spend the bulk of my time thinking about my wardrobe and whether or not I will dance every set... Mama used to read out your name in Wellington’s dispatches about the important things you were doing. As you know, Papa does not care about politics or wars, but he would always ask her to read it again. He was ever so pleased to hear of your successes. It irritated me to no end.’
A slow smile built upon his lips. She had managed to make the conversation personal again. ‘Your father is a good man.’
Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. ‘And he thinks that you will be a great one.’
Touching his face where her lips had briefly resided, Samuel felt himself blushing. Lord Hampford had been his mentor growing up and he could think of no greater compliment. He only wished his own father would have thought of him so highly. That Papa would have been the sort of man that he could look up to and not the cause of his family’s shame.
Chapter Ten
Once Frederica’s fingers found their places on the keys of the pianoforte, the guests, and the room around her, faded into the background. It was just her and Beethoven having a most marvellous battle for musical predominance. Chopin was too subtle for her taste and Bach too orderly. But Beethoven knew how to wring every bit of feeling out of each note. She loved his minor chords and dissonant cadences. She would never tire of playing his music. Of being transported away to somewhere entirely new.
With one last crescendo, she finished the piece with a flare. Frederica lifted her eyes to glance back at the crowd. It was mostly members of thetonwith a few foreigners of the highest rank in the mix. Her mother was a notable hostess and even being in a different country did not stop her from being selective in her invitations and expansive in her wine list.
Standing up, Frederica feigned as if she were leaving her place at the pianoforte, knowing full well that she would be asked to play another piece for the company. It was, however, extremely gratifying when none other than General Lord Wellington begged her to favour them with one more. Sitting back down, she pressed the keys loudly to begin Beethoven’s ‘Piano Sonata 23’. If anyone had fallen asleep, they would be awake now. Her fingers moved quickly on the keys, faster than even her mind could keep up with the notes. Oh, how she loved becoming one with the instrument.
She played the complicated piece until the tips of her fingers were sore. The sound of clapping brought her back to reality with a most unpleasant thud. She slid back on her long dinner gloves, bowing and smiling as she accepted compliments. Georgy took her spot at the pianoforte and began to sing and play a sweet, uncomplicated tune. She had a lovely voice and her fingering was good. Frederica could not help but realise that the audience enjoyed Georgy’s simpler performance more than her own. She clapped louder than the rest when her friend finished and was happy that Georgy was asked by Wellington as well to favour them with another piece.
A small, ugly part of herself had to admit that she wished that she was the only person to be asked by the general for a second song. And that the guests would have realised that her performance was equal to a professional male musician. It was not merely a pretty accomplishment to display, Frederica was truly talented and worked extremely hard at practising. Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of such petty thoughts. They were beneath the person she wanted to be.
‘You were extraordinary,’ Samuel whispered from behind her. Frederica’s knees felt like jelly as he placed a hand on her waist and she could feel his warm breath on her ear. Butterflies danced in her belly. It was terribly annoying that he had this effect on her.
Turning, he kept his hand on her waist. They were standing at the back of the room and everyone else was politely listening to Georgy finish her second song. It was a Scottish air with a playful lilt.
‘I didn’t notice your arrival.’
It was not the wittiest sentence she had ever uttered, but it filled the silence and the space between them. Their noses were close enough to brush against each other and the bottom of her gown draped over his boots.