“Lady Patience!”
Patience turned. It was the very lady they spoke about.
“Lord Kendrickson,” Lady Alice said in a different tone. It was one of nervousness, Patience thought.
Lord Kendrickson bowed. “Lady Alice. You are positively glowing in the candlelight.”
Lady Alice blushed up to her eyebrows, which Patience took as a good sign. She could not say whether or not the lady was glowing, but the compliment had been well received.
“Lady Alice,” Patience said, not being able to contain herself, “I understand from my aunt, Lady Marchfield, that Lord Stanford was so good as to bring you a fan.”
“It was very kind of the gentleman to think of it, though I was not at home at the time.”
“I suppose it is a very nice fan?”
Lady Alice nodded. “It is quite a favorite.”
Lord Kendrickson’s expression had darkened, though Patience could see that he worked to cover it. “Lady Alice, I noted when I came in that Lady Jellerbey has included a well-aged hock on her sideboards,” the lord said, “which I know you prefer. Might I escort you there for a glass?”
“That is very thoughtful, Lord Kendrickson.”
“Excellent. I would not care for you to get lost in the darkness, lest we are forced to launch a search party for Lady Alice.”
Lady Alice laughed at the jest and Patience thought Lord Kendrickson was doing a very good job at being lighthearted and amusing. She was not feeling so lighthearted and amusing herself. Lady Alice liked the fan. It had become a favorite.
She did wonder, though, that the lady did not wear it tonight. The fan dangling on her wrist looked very like the one she’d worn to dinner.
“Lady Patience, will you come with us?” Lady Alice asked.
Patience was a bit torn. She’d like to go along and see if she could work in more questions about the fan. On the other hand, she wished for Lord Kendrickson to have as many chances with Lady Alice as possible.
“I will stay where I am, thank you,” Patience said. “My Papa is heading back toward me.”
Lady Alice and Lord Kendrickson drifted away and the duke returned. “Very good claret, I must remember the name on the bottle ticket.”
“She likes the fan, Papa,” Patience said. “Lady Alice says it has become a favorite.”
“Bah, I do not care what she says about it or why he did it. I have eyes, as I fully explained to both Felicity and Grace when they experienced their own trials. Nobody ever believes me.”
Patience stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I wish more than anything to believe you.”
Ahead of her, she spotted Lord Stanford. He noticed her and made his way over. “Your Grace, Lady Patience.”
“There you are, wondered where you’d got to,” the duke said. “But who knows, perhaps you’ve been here all along—who can see in this dim light?”
“I have just come in, Your Grace. I thought I detected a limp on one of my carriage horses, but it was only a loose shoe.”
“I’m going to find a quiet corner where I can drink my claret without tripping over anybody in this gloom. I suppose you’ll want to escort Patience through the rooms to see what might be had on the sideboards.”
Lord Stanford looked a bit startled by the question that was not really posed as a question but more of an order. He speedily recovered himself and said, “Of course.”
The duke made his way to an oversized chair against a far wall. Lord Stanford held his arm out. Patience laid her hand on it and they proceeded forward.
As she had noticed before, touching him was exhilarating. Her heart told her she was right about him. Her head, though, had been assaulted with too many conflicting pieces of information.
They walked the corridor and entered the music room. Patience glanced round, relieved there was not a crwth in sight. At one of the many sideboards set up in Lady Jellerbey’s various rooms, Lord Stanford said, “I think you prefer a Canary, Lady Patience?”
He had remembered what she preferred. That must be a good sign, must it not? She nodded her approval.
Lord Stanford poured her a generous glass of wine. “Do you care for something to eat?” he said.
“I do rather,” Patience said. “I ate a bit before I came, but my father told me it has been his experience that, despite the dim light, Lady Jellerbey puts out some very good things.”
As she examined the sideboard for what might suit, Lord Stanford said, “He is not mistaken in that opinion. If you are inclined to something sweet, I recommend the crème filled pastry puffs. If savory is your preference, the lamb vol-au-vents are particularly good.”
Patience chose the crème puffs, as she would always choose something sweet when given the choice. They made their way to one of the tables that had been set up in every room.
They’d had a pleasant conversation so far, but not an illuminating one. Patience was determined to be illuminated.
“I was wondering, Lord Stanford, what your opinion might be on a particular matter. A friend of mine, a lady friend, received the gift of a fan from a gentleman. She wondered if that was significant. She wondered if he were making a statement of some sort? I said I did not know.”
