Lady Alice said, “Lord Stanford, I haven’t had a moment to thank you for bringing me the fan.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Lord Stanford said.
Patience and Lord Kendrickson looked at one another. Lord Kendrickson practically rolled his eyes.
“It was just a fan, after all,” Lord Kendrickson said. “Anybody might have brought it.”
“Of course,” Lord Stanford said.
Of course? What did he mean by it?
“I must admit,” Lady Alice said, “that seeking out Lady Patience was not my only reason for wishing for a chair. I’m afraid I begin to feel poorly.”
Patience looked more closely at Lady Alice. It was true, she did not look well at the present moment. Her skin had gone more pale than was usual and there were tiny beads of sweat on her forehead.
Lord Kendrickson leapt up from his chair. “You must be taken home at once. A doctor must be called at once. I will seek out your mother.”
Lord Stanford was up on his feet just as fast. “Search the back rooms, Kendrickson. I will search the front and have the carriage called round.”
Lord Kendrickson nodded and they were off, leaving Patience alone with Lady Alice. Patience would like to make further inquiries about the fan and about the lady’s feelings regarding Lord Stanford, but she could not do so in Lady Alice’s current condition. She was beginning to look far too weak to be expected to answer any questions.
“Do drink some of my wine, Lady Alice,” Patience said. “It will fortify you.”
Lady Alice weakly waved a hand. “Thank you, no, I cannot. I dare not drink anything this moment.”
“Oh I see,” Patience said, guessing that whatever illness was coming over the lady, it involved her stomach. A very uncomfortable state of affairs, as Patience knew from prior experience.
Lord Kendrickson hurried back with Lady Kembleford.
“My dear,” Lady Alice’s mother said, “you are ill?”
“Very, Mama. It came over me suddenly. I wish to be home.”
“Of course you do. Come, stand and I will give you my arm.”
“I will support you on the other side,” Lord Kendrickson said.
They assisted the lady, who gave Patience a weak smile of parting, through the dim light of Lady Jellerbey’s candlelight picnic.
Patience sat alone in the gloom, considering all that had transpired. She dearly hoped Lady Alice did not suffer a serious malady. Another part of her, though, could not help but notice how both Lord Kendrickson and Lord Stanford had shot out of their seats to assist her.
That thought did not reflect well on her, she knew. It showed a selfishness of spirit, a lowness of some kind. She ought to be grateful that there had been two gentlemen nearby who were capable of assisting Lady Alice. She would try very hard to be grateful for it.
Patience was alone with her thoughts for some minutes. She was tucked away in a corner that would have been very visible had the chandeliers been lit, but she noted several people pass her by that she was certain had not even seen her.
Then she overheard a conversation. Two ladies spoke of Lady Alice being suddenly taken ill and the rush to remove her from the house.
“Apparently,” one lady said, “Lady Kembleford’s carriage was swiftly located but her coachman could not be found.”
“I am not surprised,” the other lady said. “I understand the coachmen often gather somewhere for a game of cards or such. I am certain he was not expecting such an early and abrupt departure.”
“Lady Alice is lucky to have two such attentive gentlemen nearby.”
“And flattered, I’d imagine. It was very dashing of Lord Stanford to leap onto the box and drive the carriage himself.”
“And then Lord Kendrickson leapt on his horse with a torch to lead the way and clear any carts or carriages ahead of them.”
“It is comforting to know that chivalry is not dead. I will alert my lord to that fact as perhaps he will wish to become reacquainted with the idea.”
