“I only say,” Henri said with a sniff, “will Mrs. Whirlwind of Crumbs be attending? I should like to know if this superb Italian wool is set to walk into imminent danger.”
Balthazar did not have the first idea of whether Miss Mayton would attend. At Almack’s, it had seemed as if Lord Cannerly had been delighted to encounter the earl.
He supposed it was a possibility. Then of course, if the earl and Miss Mayton were to come, Lady Rosalind probably would too.
Balthazar wondered what the chances were. If she did come, he wondered if he would be seated nearby.
Though, he really ought to stop wondering about such things.
It was very hard to do, though.
As he did not answer Henri’s wish to know if his coat were to walk into danger, his valet said, “The box of handkerchiefs for Lady Rosalind has come. The fabric is the finest lawn and the embroidery is superb. Though, Signor Ribaldi no doubt wonders why he is making ladies’ handkerchiefs now.”
“I suspect it isyouwho are wondering.”
Balthazar took the box and opened it. The material was in fact the best. The embroidery was stitched very close and fine—two corners had a charming scene of the park’s northwest enclosure and the other two that of the keeper’s lodge. It was the very scene that had been the stage for Lady Rosalind’sdarkest hourin the face of a pickpocket. In the center were her initials—RB.
He laughed despite himself.
“Perhaps Henri does wonder over this,” his valet said.
Balthazar presumed he was very put out about it, as when Henri referred to himself in that manner, as if he were King Louis, he generally was.
He walked to the desk and wrote out a note to accompany the box.
Lady Rosalind—
I pray you are sufficiently recovered from what surely must have been a terrible shock. Please allow this small offering to replace what was torn from you on that fateful day in the park. Conbatten.
Now, he positively guffawed.
“If only Henri could amuse his duke so well,” his valet muttered.
“Not until you begin hiring pickpockets to rob you,” Balthazar said.
He could see perfectly well that Henri did not know what to make of that. Whowouldknow? It was entirely too absurd.
Though, it touched him in some way, too.
*
“Well,” Miss Maytonsaid, as Lynette helped Rosalind into her dress, “it is very apparent that the duke cannot stop thinking of you being robbed in the park. Did you notice that the four corners of the handkerchiefs are embroidered with the very place it occurred?”
“I did indeed,” Rosalind said, putting her arms through the sleeves. It was a lovely green silk and she’d almost hesitated in wearing it. It was the sort of dress she would wish Conbatten to see her in and there was no chance of that tonight.
Lord Cannerly’s dinner was to be a small one, with only fourteen invited. They already made up four and Rosalind suspected the others would be as she was—a member of a family that had longstanding ties to the lord, just as her father did.
But then, Viola had pointed out that as so few people would see the dress, she might wear it again soon. She might wear it sometime when Conbatten would be able to view it.
“I suspect,” her aunt said, “that he wishes these handkerchiefs to remind you of him carrying you to Lady Hightower’s carriage.”
“Do you think so?” Rosalind said, spinning round and annoying Lynette, who was trying to button her up.
Over the lady’s maid’s sigh, Miss Mayton said, “I cannot think what else he means by it.”
The door flew open and Viola, Cordelia, and Juliet streamed in. “We’ve been sent to hurry you, Rosalind,” Cordelia said.
“Darden is toe-tapping, Father is fretting that you will arrive late, and Sandren has been outside for ten minutes. You know how Sandren gets about his horses standing round waiting,” Juliet added.
