“Hope what?”
“Um, I suppose one would hope the queen did not assume that Lord Wembly was the author of the print against Lady Verity?” Lady Lilith said.
“Why would she assume that?” Henry asked.
“As to that,” Lady Lilith said, “I did hear that the whole idea of fish eyesight was mentioned at a small dinner at the duke’s house?”
Of course it had been mentioned at a small dinner. All family attending, but for he and his aunt. Henry did not suppose anybody in their right mind would accuse Lady Pegatha of being the author of it.
But he was not either! At least, not entirely. He’d mentioned it in passing and then the idea had spread, and somebody had the notion it would be amusing to do a print.
If Lady Pegatha was right, if the queen had come to back Lady Verity and denounce the author of the prints, and it was assumed to be him…Well, it was a fine situation.
The queen, the duke, and Lady Verity had proceeded to the top of the ballroom. A throne of sorts, meaning the largest chair in Lady Darlington’s house, had been set up, with smaller chairs on either side. The duke took one side and Lady Verity the other. Was she to be trapped there all night?
Lady Pembroke entered on the arm of the Earl of Dartmouth—both part of the queen’s retinue. The Lord Chamberlain stood to the side of the makeshift throne. Clearly, he would act the gatekeeper regarding who was to come into the queen’s presence, and who was not.
Lady Pegatha snorted. “It seems your damsel is just now locked behind the castle walls. Will you make any attempts to rescue her?”
“I believe I will,” Henry said.
“Oh, I am not sure that would be wise, Lord Wembly!” Lady Lilith said, the note of alarm in her voice all too clear. “After all, the queen might be affronted by it.”
“I am not certain I care, Lady Lilith,” Henry said resolutely. Of course, he did care, but this situation could not be allowed to stand.
Queen or no queen, he must speak to Lady Verity.
*
Verity had followedthe queen to the makeshift throne Lady Darlington’s footmen had arranged. Queen Charlotte ordered the duke to her right and Verity to her left. Footmen arrived with trays of wine and champagne, as well as the bits of food Lady Darlington was in the habit of sending round.
The queen stared at small rolls of thin ham stuffed with creamed cheese, tiny cheese tarts, and squares of pineapple skewered on thin sticks. She waved them on and satisfied herself with a glass of wine. Verity did the same. She was not at all clear if there was some etiquette involved—could one eat if the queen had declined? Though, she really would not have minded trying out the pineapple.
Whatever the rules might be, the duke did not seem to see the need to follow the queen’s lead and filled up a small plate. He took so many, and such was the look of consternation on the footman’s face, that if Verity had to guess what the young man was thinking, it would probably be along the lines of: “Why not just take the plate in my hand, as you’ve nearly emptied it into your own.”
The ballroom had gone very quiet, and the crowd stared at the queen as if nobody understood what they were to do next. Queen Charlotte signaled the three violinists to take up their playing again. They did so, and it seemed to break the pall that had fallen over the room.
“Hah!” the duke said, “there’s my sister, Lady Misery. Dressed in another high-flown get up—she attempts to look regal but can never quite hit the mark.”
“You are exceedingly naughty, Duke,” the queen said. “Lady Marchfield is a respected matron.”
“Yes, but not a very amusing one,” the duke said.
“Well,” Queen Charlotte said with a laugh.
The queen leaned in Verity’s direction and said, “Here comes Lady Pembroke and my lord chamberlain. Lady Pembroke will circulate the crowd, as I mentioned. Lord Dartmouth will stand by us and make introductions he thinks fit upon being approached. I am hopeful Baron Wembly will take his chance, as he will know Lord Dartmouth from The Royal Society.”
Goodness. It was all so formally done. Where was Lord Wembly? Was he here? Did he wish to see her? If he did, why? Was it to scold her for all those prints that had gone round? If she’d never said that stupid thing about fish, there would be no prints.
But perhaps not. He had come to the house twice, which seemed to be a lot of trouble just to complain. She very much wished she could see into his thoughts, but gentlemen were so inscrutable.
“I do not know why you suddenly look like a hare in a hunter’s sights,” the queen said. “You are a duke’s daughter—chin up!”
Of course, the queen was right. Verity lifted her chin and did her best not to appear as a ridiculous person who talked about examining fish eyesight.
As she did so, she saw Lord Wembly. He wore a simple domino and half mask. Now that she’d spotted him, she wondered how she’d not seen him before. That lovely, lovely auburn hair. It really was so superior to every other gentleman’s hair. He was walking over, with Lady Pegatha and Lady Lilith trailing him.
“Now we will see what the lay of the land is,” the queen said, sounding very jolly about it.
