Free In Distant Fields by Charlotte Bingham Page B

its long windows and flights of shallow stone steps leading up to central doors, seemed to be smiling down at the scene below. This, after all, was what the country house was for – entertaining friends, greeting neighbours and cementing friendships based on mutual interests.
    Tonight the great rooms of the house were decorated with swags of holly, and thousands of candles, with great branches of ivy interlaced with gold and silver ornaments, so that not even Cecil could find fault with its proud displays.
    The moment Kitty entered the Milbornes’ballroom, Peregrine Catesby went straight to her side.
    â€˜Seeing how beautiful you look tonight, Miss Rolfe, I think I should quickly write my name in your card – before it is filled with the names of every eligible bachelor present.’
    The moment Peregrine left her side to fetch refreshment, Almeric appeared from nowhere, leaning over her shoulder to read her dance card.
    â€˜Perry is being greedy, Miss Rolfe,’ he said, scribbling his own name over that of Perry’s. ‘That will never do.’
    Before Kitty could demur he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.
    â€˜Of all the nerve,’ Peregrine murmured, watching Kitty being danced away from him. ‘You shall regret that, Lord Almeric. That is the last time I help you translate Euripides.’
    He had replaced the two glasses he had fetched on a passing footman’s tray, before he noticed Partita sitting on a gilt chair nearby.
    â€˜What, Lady Tita a wallflower? This will never do,’ he said, and immediately led her onto the floor.
    â€˜I’m fast becoming bored of waltzes,’ Partita sighed as they began to dance. ‘Next time ask me for a two-step, will you, Perry? Or a bunny hug, anything rather than the dull old waltz.’
    â€˜Have you begun reading from the list I sent to you in London?’ Peregrine enquired as he spun her expertly around the crowded floor.
    â€˜I read the list, Perry,’ Partita stated in a bored voice.
    â€˜And have you become enthused by it?’
    â€˜Too many Latin poets, Perry, truly far too many.’
    â€˜Good poets. Don’t be impatient. You’ll get to love them, if you allow yourself.’
    â€˜Oh, very well,’ Partita agreed, mock bravely. ‘For you I shall endeavour to understand and appreciate them.’
    â€˜Allow your friend Miss Rolfe to help you. She was telling me how much she enjoyed Virgil’s Aeneid —’
    â€˜Kitty enjoys everything that is good for her,’ Partita interrupted. ‘Sometimes I swear she is too good to be true, just as her father is said to be too bad to be true.’
    â€˜I don’t think Miss Rolfe’s virtue can be the result of her father’s vices. Or her father the fault of her virtues.’
    â€˜That is a little too clever for me, Perry. All I know is that I feel sorry for Kitty.’
    â€˜Nonsense, Tita, one only feels sorry for someone one doesn’t really like. I see there are some very long faces over there, Tita. Very long indeed. Do you think they know something we do not?’
    Partita glanced in the direction her partner was looking.
    â€˜Papa has a bee in his hat about this Balkans business,’ Partita moaned. ‘The Balkans really are not my subject. I don’t even know where theybegin or where they end, and I’m not awfully sure that I care.’
    â€˜Still afraid of being taken for a blue stocking, are we, Partita?’
    â€˜No, not at all, just afraid of being found to be a bore. This is meant to be New Year’s Eve, for goodness’ sake!’
    â€˜It most certainly is,’ Peregrine agreed. ‘And we shall all put away our cares and dance this last night of the old year away, without a thought of tomorrow.’
    After which Peregrine reversed expertly, whirling Partita well away from the party of older guests, who were still all standing together.
    â€˜I cannot for