‘Really, Letty,’ Henrietta scolded, intrigued despite herself. ‘However, since we have such a fine, well-dressed guest, perhaps I too should have a little finery. Bring the amethyst silk and my silver lace instead.’
Half an hour later she paused in the shadow of the hall screens, watching the two men as they stood before the fire, wine glasses in hand. Her kid slippers had made no sound on the boards and she was able to watch unobserved as they talked while the servants finished laying the table.
Letty was right, the stranger was a startlingly good-looking young man, almost as tall as Matthew. Thick blond hair curled on his wide lace collar and the firelight danced on his burnished boots. Yet still he looked insubstantial against Matthew's lean, confident figure.
She stepped into the light and both men looked up. Matthew started forward, but the stranger reached her side first, taking her hand in elegantly beringed fingers.
He swept a low bow then looked into her face in open admiration. 'Madam. Your most devoted servant. Sheridan, now I see why you linger at Winterbourne. How could you hide such a pearl from London society?’
‘To keep her from the attention of such gallants.as yourself,’ Matthew riposted, not entirely humorously. ‘Lady Sheridan, may I present our guest, Sir Edmund Ransome?’
‘Sir Edmund.’ Henrietta curtsied low.
Matthew took her hand and led her to a high-backed chair by the fireside. ‘We did not expect to see you down. You are in great beauty, my dear, but are you well enough to sup with us?’
It was quite obvious his friend thought her beautiful too: Henrietta was well aware of Sir Edmund's admiring glance.
She saw the guarded look in her husband's face and smiled inwardly, enjoying the first signs of jealousy he had ever shown her. She had no intention of so much as flirting with her guest, but his open admiration warmed her and she was intrigued by Matthew's reaction.
Matthew seated her at the foot of the table with a solicitude tinged with possession. After the men had taken their places she turned to Sir Edmund. ‘You have come from London today, sir?’
‘Indeed, madam. I undertake a commission for my patron, Lord Hargrave, in Oxford. Your husband gave me his company upon the road and offered me your hospitality for the night.’ He took the bread she offered him and added, ‘But had I known you were indisposed, Lady Sheridan, I should have gone to an inn.’
‘Sir, my husband exaggerates out of concern for me. It was a bump on the head, nothing more. And I would not have missed your company for the world.’
Sir Edmund raised his glass in acknowledgement of the compliment. Matthew's brows rose slightly, but he said nothing. Henrietta caught his eye and smiled demurely. They both knew the game she was playing, and both knew why she was playing it.
Over the chicken talk inevitably turned to politics and the state of the nation. Henrietta realised the two men must have worked together before, as she should have known from Sir Edmund's reference to Lord Hargrave.
‘Is there anything else I can tell you of my lord's business before you resume your journey to Oxford on the morrow?’ Matthew asked.
‘I think not, we had so much time to talk upon the road that we have covered it all, I believe.’
Henrietta looked enquiringly from one man to the other. Matthew dismissed the servant from the room with a wave of his hand and lowered his voice slightly. ‘You recollect I told you how I served Lord Hargrave during the late conflict?’
‘You acted as secretary to his lordship, gathering and sifting intelligence for him.’
‘Yes. Now, with this latest disturbance in the country, he has need of such service again and has asked Ransome to fill this role.’
Instantly Henrietta felt slighted for Matthew's sake. ‘Does Lord Hargrave no longer trust you since your marriage to the daughter of a known Royalist family?
’
‘My lord would condemn no one for holding to their beliefs,’ Matthew began, but was overridden by his friend.
‘Our patron knows Matthew too well to believe anything would turn him from his duty,’ Ransome interrupted. ‘Nor can I believe, having met you, that you would attempt such a thing.’
Henrietta subsided, guiltily aware that in the matter of the letter she was not only going against everything Matthew was committed to, but that she was lying to him also.
‘To answer your question, Lady Sheridan, Lord Hargrave believes, as we do, that to heal this nation we must start from its roots, build trust again. Men such as your husband with estates in the country, yet with influence in Town, will be the builders, laying the foundations of a united England once again.’
‘Your patron, moderate man as he is, seems not to represent the voice of Parliament from what I hear,’ Henrietta remarked tartly.
‘You are acute, madam.’ The conversation had developed into a dialogue between Ransome and his hostess. Matthew sat back, watching and listening. To Henrietta's anxious eye he seemed tired, yet curiously content despite the worry of the King's invasion.
‘The invasion of the Royalist army is not all that concerns us,' Ransome continued. ‘Rather it is the growing radicalism in Parliament, the increased influence of the Puritan movement. Your husband must have talked often to you of his fears for freedom of worship and for individual liberty if the legislation we are promised comes to fruition.’
Henrietta rose to fill their wine glasses. Instead of taking her chair again she seated herself on a low stool at Matthew's feet. ‘Come, gentlemen. You are both tired. Let us ring for a dish of nuts and drink our wine, turn our thoughts to lighter matters.’