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Sarah smiled. “If that’s what you wish, then so be it.”
Within a short interval, Sarah’s lady returned and sighed. “The cravat was given back to Mr Day,” she said.
“I thank you for taking the pains.”
The lady looked away, not wanting to let on knowing exactly why that cravat was found in Sarah’s bed.
“Will you dress me for this evening?” Lisbeth asked the lady.
“If that’s what you require, My Lady.”
“You always dress Sarah perfectly. I wish to look perfect, as well.”
The lady curtsied. She received instructions as to which gown to procure in Lisbeth’s room, as well as which jewels. The lady returned with these things, and a footman behind her entered with tea. Sarah and Lisbeth spent the better part of the late afternoon sipping tea, chatting, laughing, and preparing for the evening ahead.
Sarah admired her sister as she was being readied. Lisbeth was still young at heart, but she was already proving she’d be a beautiful woman. If Sarah had to notice that she, herself, had changed since coming to the Duke of Faversham’s estate, then the same could be said for Lisbeth. There was a new glow to her cheek. It was important for Lisbeth to attend events like this because she needed to understand society’s protocols in such a high-stakes setting.
“Oh, I do love peach,” Lisbeth said, twirling in front of the mirror.
“It’s a remarkable colour on you.”
“Was it correct to choose the pearls?” Lisbeth asked, displaying her neck to her sister.
“The pearls were a lovely choice,” Sarah replied warmly.
Indeed, it would be a highly-anticipated evening ahead. Hopefully, with very little drama.
***
Patrick held the cravat in his hand and smiled to himself. The memory of the evening before returned and Patrick delighted in it. His valet had already laid out a suit for the evening, and Patrick inspected it, it not being a suit that he’d procured from the haberdashery.
“Compliments of the duke, My Lord,” the valet said.
“I see.”
It was baffling. There was something in the duke’s character that allowed him to be kind and combative, all at once. It was a backhanded favour, lending Patrick one of the duke’s finest suits. Still, he’d accept the offer because Patrick wanted to look his very best for when he convinced the Earl of Benton to allow him to marry Sarah.
Once Patrick was dressed, he seated himself so that the valet might shine his boots.
“You did not partake in the ride this afternoon, My Lord?”
“No, I did not,” Patrick replied. “There were pressing matters to attend to.”
“I’m told that the rain ceased just in time.”
“Yes, it certainly did.”
How was it that Patrick felt effortlessly comfortable with a valet dressing him and making preparations? It was another bit of the mystery that Patrick couldn’t wrap his head around. Although he no longer considered himself Lord Reginald Simmons, Patrick Day was still at ease being treated as a lord. To get to the bottom of this conundrum, Patrick would first need to speak with Lord Kelly.
The butler entered just then, confirming Patrick’s request. “My Lord, Lord Kelly has agreed to meet on the veranda before the other guests arrive.”
“Most good. I thank you for taking the pains to arrange it.”
“My pleasure, My Lord,” the butler replied, bowing his head before exiting the room.
If Patrick could convince Lord John that the marriage should proceed, it would be the last time in his life—and in Sarah’s life—that they’d enjoy such luxury. Would Patrick miss it? He considered that as long as Sarah was his wife, he wouldn’t miss any of it.
Once Patrick was fully arrayed, the valet excused himself and asked, “Is there anything else that I can get you, My Lord?”
