Page 42
“Master Kent?” Raven broke through my thoughts. “Are you well?”
“Distracted.” I undid the cuff of my other sleeve and set to work on my neckcloth. “The first thing I am going to change about fashion is to ban neckcloths,” I informed him as I tore the strangling fabric from beneath my chin.
“I have heard that some prefer them to the alternative of high collars.” Raven caught the offending item when I threw it at him.
“Then let them wear them and give me a low collar comfortably loose and modest.”
“That shall cause a sensation. Shall I order low collars for some of your shirts?” Raven folded the cloth neatly and followed me into my chamber.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Very well.” Raven caught my shirt as I pulled it over my head. “Will you be wearing gloves again tonight?”
“Always.”
My assistant pressed his lips together. “Just so you are prepared, Lord Greyson’s personal attendant mentioned that his master will be addressing your wearing of the gloves before we depart for the capital. Apparently, Lord Greyson is concerned they will begin the rumor that you are Dullahan and not a true blood heir.”
I groaned as he handed me a soft linen tunic. “Why does he need a good reason for my wearing them?”
“I doubt Lord Greyson does anything without a good reason.” Raven handed me a cutaway vest of gray-on-gray brocade followed by a generously cut coat of darker gray wool. Comfortable but still far more stylish than I preferred, I recognized the garments for what they were: a compromise between what I wished to wear and the ideal that I should be wearing.
As I did up the last of the diagonal row of buttons on the vest, Raven offered me a pair of gray kid gloves. Far more refined than the thick riding gloves I had worn to this point, the gloves were thin and slim, almost elegant.
I accepted the gloves without argument. Raven and I were gradually growing in our understanding of each other. His offers of alternatives and attentiveness to my feedback gave me hope that we would someday find a middle ground between what was comfortable and sensible and what was stylish.
A distant bong of the dinner bell brought both of our heads up.
“We are late,” Raven observed calmly.
“Hardly. That is only the first strike. We have plenty of time.”
Raven pursed his lips in displeasure. “We must make haste if we are to arrive in time.”
“We have time,” I repeated as I adjusted my coat.
Raven apparently wished that I arrive early to every event, which didn’t fit with my contrarian agenda.
“Sire.” Raven motioned to the door. “Please.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I finally complied with his urging and strode toward the door again. At least I would get to see Rue. That would make all of this fuss worthwhile.
“And food,” Raven added, making me realize I had spoken aloud.
“Yes, the food is always exquisite.”
Chapter Ten
Rue
I surveyed the dining room. Twelve place settings marched around the sides of a long grand table. The place cards in silver holders written in elegant lettering indicated who was to sit where. I had placed them exactly as Lady Lyra had instructed.
A faun of dubious reputation and a young man and his mother of unknown origin had arrived only that afternoon. The last-minute change of venue would accommodate the extra guests at Lord Greyson’s request. He also sent word that under no circumstances were the children to attend the meal.
“Your help has been valuable,” Lady Lyra said as she joined me in my survey of the table and chairs. “Is all ready?”
“It appears so.” Ever since she had taken me under her wing, I had been studying and preparing for exactly this sort of event. “Are the centerpieces too high?” I asked, eyeing the clumps of hothouse flowers and small fern cuttings in the center of the table.
“Not at all,” Lady Lyra assured me. “Even I can see over them to Greyson’s place at the other end, which is a feat in itself. I do wish we could’ve located the smaller table. I much prefer the place settings to be closer together for ease of conversation.”
