From the end of the table, the duke used a spoon to ding on his glass. He rose.
“My dear guests,” he said, “on the morrow, the gentlemen will go forth on a regatta, wind willing. They will round two buoys set in a classic triangle from the start line, the last leg being the downwind.”
“Danger will abound,” Lord Poppin whispered.
Cordelia suppressed a giggle. “Heavens,” she said softly.
“The neighborhood has been invited to view the spectacle and there will be plentiful food and drink for those good people,” the duke said. “Our esteemed lady guests will have a special viewing area with chairs for their convenience, set apart from the milling crowd.”
“Ah, very good,” Lord Poppin said quietly. “There may be ruffians in the crowd and I cannot be in two places at once.”
Ruffians from the village? What an idea.
“This is to be the start of a grand tradition,” the duke said. “I have already arranged for a plaque to be hung in the billiards room that will one day house dozens of brass plates naming the winner of that season’s race. Willyoube named on the first brass plate?”
“Undoubtedly,” Lord Poppin said to her right.
“Unlikely,” Lord Harveston said on her left.
“I raise my glass to the competitors,” the duke said, “and let the best sailor win.”
There were loud ‘hear hears’ from the gentlemen at table.
Cordelia was grateful to turn to Lord Harveston and leave Lord Poppin to overwhelm his dinner companion with tales of high seas adventure.
“Why do you say it is unlikely you will prevail, Lord Harveston?” she asked.
“Because it is,” he said with a laugh. “Despite Hamill’s claim that I might be taken for a navy man, I would not be taken for a navy man.”
“I do not suppose any of the gentlemen competing would be taken so,” Cordelia said. “At least, that is my impression.”
Lord Harveston glanced over her shoulder at Lord Poppin’s profile. “Some less than others, I imagine.”
Cordelia stifled a laugh, as Lord Harveston had seemed to rightly take Lord Poppin’s measure.
“Now, Lady Cordelia, tell me more of Mrs. Macklethorpe,” Lord Harveston said. “I understand from Miss Mayton that she is worried about running the shop on her own.”
And so they went on very genially discussing Mrs. Macklethorpe’s case, Lord Harveston having the idea that it was keeping the books that likely troubled the lady. It was the sort of thing Mr. Macklethorpe had likely done on his own.
If they had missed a cue to turn to their opposite seat mates and left those two persons adrift for a time, that could not be helped. Not when Mrs. Macklethorpe had such a thorny situation to unravel.
In any case, when she was forced to turn to Lord Poppin, all he had to talk about were the various dangers surrounding them. Cordelia was staying in a duke’s house; she thought it likely she had never been more safe in her life.
If Mr. Poppin had contributed to her happiness at all, it was that it felt such a delight to turn to Lord Harveston.
The dinner ended far too soon, and the duchess had risen to lead the ladies out while the men were left to their port. Cordelia was certain Lord Poppin was poised to recount his harrowing days at sea.
All was lost, indeed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In the drawingroom, Cordelia and her aunt found a quiet corner. There, she relayed all that had transpired at dinner and how interested Lord Harveston had been regarding Mrs. Macklethorpe.
“I wonder if he is not interested becauseyouare interested,” Miss Mayton mused, “it would be very promising if that were the case.”
“I do think he likes me, I really do,” Cordelia said. “But Aunt, I have recently realized that my intellectual studies were not perhaps as intellectual as they should have been.”
“Oh dear, I know so little about that sort of thing I hardly know how to counsel you on it. I have far too many feelings to make time for facts.”
