“Yes, I believe that is it,” the duke said. “It got away from me somehow. Well, no need to blame him, I prefer a well-oiled hinge myself.”
Lady Jenner heaved a deep sigh. “As does my lord, so I cannot fault my butler for it. But now you will not have the opportunity to play your beloved crwth.”
Patience nodded with what she hoped was a look of deep sadness, though she felt rather giddy. She would not have to pretend to know how to play a crwth. She felt as if she had skated on very thin ice and somehow made it to the other side of the pond without plunging into icy water.
“Well at least have a look at the earl’s specimen—there are so few crwths about anymore.”
Lady Jenner led them to the glass case and Patience stared down at it. So that was a crwth. Thank the stars above that it would stay under glass, right where it belonged.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Marcus could not imagine what had gone on. First, Lady Patience had informed them that she only played the crwth and had inadvertently left her instrument at home. Then Lady Jenner remarkably had that item and they had gone to retrieve it.
He’d been rather looking forward to hearing it, as he never had before. However, when Lady Patience returned, she had a bandaged hand. The duke had managed to slam his daughter’s hand in a door and blame it on a well-oiled hinge.
Despite her injury, she was looking rather cheerful.
“Now, Stanford,” the duke said, “I will depend on you to manage the patient. As it was my girl’s right hand, she will need assistance. Patience? I suppose you will like a glass of Canary?”
Lady Patience nodded, and Marcus was sent off to do the duke’s bidding. He was not at all sure how he had been assigned to assist Lady Patience, rather than her own father.
He was not entirely opposed, of course. The lady really was marvelous to look at and then there seemed to be that magnetic quality to her, that aliveness, that he’d noticed.
When he returned with her glass of Canary, Lady Patience was seated with one chair to her right and her father seated to her left.
It was clear enough where he was meant to sit. He felt the slightest twinge over it, as Lady Alice was seated three rows ahead of him. He really had cemented it in his mind that he ought to become better acquainted with the lady, as she was so advertised to be the sort of lady that would be suited to him.
He’d been introduced to her, at least. He’d not felt anything in particular upon the introduction. There had not been an immediate attraction, but he supposed that was because he never had gravitated to her sort of coloring. Her black hair and pale skin felt harsh to his eyes and he preferred a softer coloring. Like Lady Patience’s coloring.
However, and it was animportanthowever, a lady’s coloring was not to dictate his direction. He must use rational sense built of verifiable facts. Hair eventually turned to grey but temperament stayed steady throughout one’s life.
Marcus set down Lady Patience’s glass of wine as Lady Jenner sorted people into seats so she could get the evening going.
Lady Patience lifted her injured hand and then, seeming to remember itwasinjured, laid it back in her lap and used her left hand to take her wine.
“I hope you are not too disappointed that you will not have the opportunity to play the crwth,” he said.
“I’m devastated, naturally. Though, one has to put one’s chin up in the face of disappointments, does not one?” Lady Patience said.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
The duke leaned forward. “All my daughters are very stalwart.” He paused. “Except for Valor, but she might grow into it.”
“Valor is my youngest sister,” Lady Patience said. “We cannot convince her that the foxes roaming the Dales are not women being murdered. She even accused the vicar of somehow being involved in the murders.”
The duke chuckled. “Now she thinks the butler who is currently incommoding my household might murder us all in our beds because he’s an army man. Well, she’ll settle as soon as that fellow is gone.”
Marcus was not certain what to make of that statement. Did the duke say he did not care for his current butler, and that fellow had plans to leave the duke’s service? It was deuced inconvenient to lose a butler. The senior footman would jockey for the position whether he was ready for it or not. Staff always disliked a new man coming in if that was to be the case.
Whatever decision was made, it would throw everybody into an upset that would take months to settle. A household staff was a delicate balance of personalities and hierarchies.
“Our aunt, Lady Marchfield, keeps hiring butlers for my father,” Lady Patience said, “but we do not wish for one, so our housekeeper gets rid of them for us.”
Marcus was certain he was fairly wide-eyed. They did not want a butler? Their housekeeper was tasked with getting rid of them? How did she get rid of them? Was there violence involved? How many had been got rid of? Where were they now?
“We know how we like our house run, and so does Mrs. Right,” the duke said. “We are snug and comfortable just as we are.”
Lady Patience patted her father’s hand. “That is a very apt description, Papa—we are snug and comfortable. In the Dales, we do things just as we like them.”
