Lady Cordelia was surrounded by her family and so he could not see a way to politely barge in.
His aunt seemed not at all shaken by the interruption to her play. He’d just heard her say, “That is the skill of an acting troupe, Mrs. Renway. One must stay in character regardless of what occurs. The stage is an unpredictable taskmaster.”
Conbatten had just retrieved a glass of wine from the sideboard and stood next to him, admiring his wife as she congratulated Lady Cordelia.
“One of the things that has always charmed me about the Benningtons,” the duke said, “is that they are all so approving of one another. If one of them does a thing, the rest pronounce it marvelous. Just this moment, Lady Cordelia will be compared to Sarah Siddons and found superior, though her only line was ‘my dearest Desdemona, let us marry.’”
That might be so, in fact Percival was certain it was so. Enough had been said of the sisters’ accomplishments to confirm the idea. Everybody knew of the duchess’ odd style of playing the pianoforte, which was likened to a cat falling on the keys. And then it was said that Lady Viola had painted a wedding present for the couple that was so ghastly that Conbatten had built a special room to keep it from public view. The youngest sister wrote odes to trees and fences.
But how could they be so wonderful to one another if they allowed the likes of Lord Darling and Chester to lurk around their house?
“Your Grace, I am sure it is not my business, but if I might inquire—why does not the earl do something about Lord Darling?”
Conbatten laughed. “It has always seemed to me that Lord Westmont is helpless against the doings of that house.”
“But then, what of Darden?” Percival asked.
“Darden?” the duke said. “Darden is a particularly easygoing sort of man. I imagine he just views the whole thing amusing.”
The duke wandered away.
Amusing? How could he view it amusing?
Percival was beginning to wonder if he’d ever known Darden as well as he’d thought he had.
The circle round Lady Cordelia and Miss Mayton was not as tight as it had been. Darden had turned to talk to Mr. Reardon. The earl was congratulating Lady Agatha. The duke had retrieved his bride and brought her the glass of wine. Lady Baderston and her husband had drifted into a corner, heads together as the newly-wedded couple that they were.
Percival set his wine down and strode over.
“Lady Cordelia, Miss Mayton,” he said, “my congratulations.”
Lady Cordelia nodded her acknowledgment, and Percival noted a faint flush. Miss Mayton said, “We’ve come through it, Lord Harveston, despite the setbacks.”
“Yes, well, my aunt will discover it sooner or later,” he said. “I am afraid I am the author of the setback. I ordered the butler to have Lady Rawley’s doctor on hand, as real swords would be used.”
“Oh!” Lady Cordelia said, unable to hide her surprise.
“I simply did not wish anyone to be hurt, and if theywereinjured I wished they received prompt medical attention.”
“That was very kind,” Lady Cordelia said.
Miss Mayton was nodding her head. “Ah well, sometimes a kindness goes awry, does it not? I do not suppose anybody was ever in any real danger.”
Percival looked Lady Cordelia in the eye. “But if you were to discover yourself in danger,” he said, “you could call on me.”
Lady Cordelia appeared taken aback by that statement. He was rather taken aback himself.
Percival bowed. “Ladies,” he said. He then quickly left the house.
*
Cordelia lay awakein the early morning hours, that time of day when the sun was not yet up but darkness had fled. She had not been able to sleep at all, so busy was her mind.
So busy was her heart too.
The play had taken a turn, what with Lady Rawley’s doctor imagining that Lady Agatha and Mrs. Robinson were dying. Lady Rawley had been a complete professional, clearing up the matter speedily and encouraging them to carry on.
Cordelia had made the most of her one line. She’d worked on it every which way and had finally decided to put the emphasis on two words—dearest and marry. Desdemonadearest, let usmarry. She’d carried it off just as she’d planned.
