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‘After tonight, though, I shall find my own accommodations, perhaps at the club, sir? How are the rooms?’

‘Excellent. You won’t be disappointed.’

Alex was relieved he knew not to overstay his welcome. ‘And will you be joining up, Matthew?’ His crestfallen expression at her enquiry forced an apology to follow quickly. ‘Forgive me, it’s early days of course to —’

‘No, no . . . that’s not it, dear Alexandra.’

‘Dear Alexandra’ now? I barely know you, she thought.

‘I’ve already tried to volunteer,’ he explained.

‘You’re keen, young man,’ Charles said, draining his glass, and she noticed him nodding, presumably at Lambton who had likely given the signal from the door behind her.

‘Is that so?’ Alex said, unable to hide her surprise. There was something shadowed about Matthew that she was picking up on but couldn’t pinpoint. It was that intangible quality that made him seem the least likely fellow to voluntarily put his hand up for an early journey to the Front.

‘Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m the third of five boys. That awful middle ranking. My elder brothers are needed at home, you see. They both work in the family firm and my father couldn’t possibly spare them right now. My mother refuses to spare her babies, my younger brothers. Besides, they’re the reason we go to war, surely? We must all feel the responsibility to keep our youth protected and free.’ It was beginning to sound like a speech to Alex, although she could see her mother’s bosom expanding against the proud intake of air at his stirring words. ‘And you believed you could be spared?’ she finished for him, suddenly feeling a mote of sympathy.

‘We can’t all wait on the sidelines. I put my hand up and was prepared to be accountable.’

‘Most commendable, Matthew, although I fear there will be conscription and your elder brothers may have no choice,’ Charles muttered.

Minerva’s hand was now laid over her heart. ‘Truly brave to volunteer,’ she said to their guest.

They were both impressed, so why was Alex feeling that Matthew’s words sounded rehearsed? Was it because he paused rather theatrically at that point to draw her parents’ praise? It was as though he was hitting well-timed beats in his narrative.

‘So they turned you down, presumably?’ Alex offered, keen to push him forward and disrupt his moment on the stage.

He didn’t blink or wince at the interruption. Instead he nodded sadly, as if grateful to her. ‘Yes. Much to my disappointment, I’m not considered suitable material.’

Alex held his permanently amused blue gaze, staring back at him, perplexed. ‘Why ever not?’

‘It’s quite ridiculous,’ he said, running a hand back through golden hair that appeared reddish from the light of the flames of the fireplace. She imagined herself cornered by her mother and offering up the pathetic argument that she couldn’t possibly marry a redhead. ‘I’m short-sighted,’ he admitted, pointing towards the monocle in case they hadn’t noticed. ‘I may also be too short,’ he added, sounding genuinely embarrassed.

‘Well, I’m not especially tall, surely?’ Charles said over Alex’s thoughts.

‘No, but you’re tall enough, sir. You’d be straight in if you were my age of twenty-six. Unfortunately, my smaller stature is their collective focus rather than my large heart,’ he said with a sad note of resignation that made her mother sigh softly.

Alex was determined her disdain wouldn’t show. ‘A pity for you, Matthew. Er, did Lambton announce dinner, Dad?’

‘Yes, indeed. Well done, darling. Lambton hates us to be late when the plates are hot,’ Charles explained to no one in particular. ‘Shall we?’ He moved to offer an arm to Alex.

‘Lady Frobisher, may I?’

Alex smiled thinly to see her mother’s delight at being escorted into dinner on the arm of a handsome young man. Her mind began racing for every excuse she could line up now to not be courted by Matthew Britten-Jones.

‘By the way, don’t be alarmed by the lack of footmen,’ she overheard Minerva say to her escort. ‘All of ours have gone to war and for our part we’ve all agreed to manage as best we can.’

‘So you see, Lady Frobisher, even you are doing your bit for the war effort.’

Alex glanced at her father, who gave her a wink.

__________

Alex watched Matthew work his charm, his compliments effortless, showing deep interest in the running of the estate and her father’s day-to-day tribulations on the board of the North Eastern Railways, his investments in diamond and gold mines in the Congo and Ghana respectively, while offering generous praise to Mrs Morrison below stairs for the food.

‘We keep it simple up north, sir,’ Lambton answered for the kitchen staff, although Alex noted the silver was out: another warning sign of her mother’s intent.

‘Well,’ Matthew said, tapping his belly lightly with both hands. ‘That soup alone was hearty and delicious.’