“So you say the duke’s daughtersareright in the head? I’ve been told it wrong?” Lord Jeffries said.
“They are perfectly right in the head,” Marcus assured him. “Even the duke, I think, though one must get to know him to perceive it.”
“Well now, I was wrong about your father, so I suppose I could be wrong in this idea too. Do I detect a particular inclination toward this Lady Patience?”
“You do, rather.”
“I see. I wish you the best of luck with it, then. By the by, I’ve got a rather spectacular little house in Wales—if you like it, you could use it on a wedding trip. I’ll write you a letter of introduction, so the steward does not throw you out on your ear.
Marcus thought the offer very kind, if not entirely precipitous.
Lord Jeffries raised his glass. “To friendship,” he said.
Marcus raised his glass too. Surprisingly, he’d be happy to maintain a friendship with the old fellow. He supposed life was full of surprises.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Patience had dragged her father through every room of Lord Michael’s house, which had been no easy feat considering it was an exceedingly crowded rout. There had been no sign of Lord Stanford, but they had finally encountered his houseguest, Lord Radner. Certainly he would know where his host had got off to. Perhaps his horse’s shoe had come loose again?
After the pleasantries were exchanged, Patience said, “I did not see Lord Stanford anywhere.”
“No, he’s off to some family duty thing,” Lord Radner said.
Family duty thing? She was a little surprised Lord Stanford had not mentioned any sort of family duty thing. Unless, of course, it was some sort of emergency come up suddenly.
“Oh dear,” she said, “was someone taken ill?”
“No, I do not think it is anything like that. He just told me I was on my own this evening. So, here I am.”
“Deuced crowded nuisance, if you ask me,” the duke said. “I had to shout, ‘Let me through or I’ll set the curtains afire’ just to get to a sideboard.”
Patience nodded. “Everybody moved for him, as they are not very good at being able to tell when he is joking.”
Lord Radner laughed. “They probably thought, why risk it?”
“Yes, yes, very good, why risk it,” the duke said, laughing. “Was I joking? I do not even know myself.”
“I suppose you will attend Lady Darlington’s masque on the morrow?” Lord Radler said. “It is one of the finest events of the season.”
Patience nodded. Indeed, it had been a pleasure to spend time dreaming up and designing a costume. The dressmaker had only delivered it and done the alterations the day before. She would go as Anne of Cleves, the remarkable lady who survived Henry VIII’s wrath. Of course, if Patience were to be honest with herself, she’d chosen Anne because of a copy of her portrait in one of her father’s books. The lady wore a divine red dress with gold trim that she thought would suit her very well.
“Hah! What do you think I’ll go as?” the duke said. “Flaming curtains! I’ve had a white domino made with red flames painted on the bottom of it in honor of the two times I’ve set curtains afire. That’ll put some starch into people.”
Lord Radner laughed rather raucously at that idea and Patience had the distinct impression that he had overindulged himself with wine. When he recovered himself, he said, “And Lady Patience?”
“Anne of Cleves,” she said.
“Ah, the one that got away.”
“And wore a marvelous dress doing it,” Patience said. “What does Lord Stanford propose to appear as, if you know it?”
“Ah yes, he wears a simple domino, but he caps it off with a rather wonderful mask—it covers his whole head and face, you see, so nobody can guess who he is. It is made of black leather with only small openings for eyes and mouth. I’ve seen him in it, it’s ominous looking. I rather fancy it, but he will not give up who made it for him.”
Patience did not comment on the idea that now shewouldknow who he was. Nobody else would wear such a mask and Lord Radner had given the game away.
She was disappointed that he would not come tonight, but she could not think the whole evening a waste. She had discovered what Lord Stanford would wear. Now she just had to decide if she would take Felicity’s advice on what to do about that gentleman.
“Well, my dear,” the duke said, “are we ready to push our way out of this place or do I need to shout about setting the curtains afire to get another glass of claret?”
