Page 51 of Lady Dramatic
As her three younger sisters debated the idea of whether the duke would or would not be able to walk when Valor turned eighteen, Lord Thorpe said, “You are lucky to have such a genial family.”
“As I think so, too!” Serenity said. “So many people do not understand my father.”
“I believe it takes multiple encounters to perceive it.”
“Yes, I can see how it would. Felicity says our father is like a windstorm that likes to blow off hats and bonnets.”
Lord Thorpe laughed. “Very apt.”
And so they went pleasantly on through the rest of dinner. Her dear sisters had seemed to make a game of keeping Lord Charles’ attention on one ridiculous matter after the next. When they lagged at any moment, the duke picked up the slack.
As for her and Lord Thorpe, their conversation was wide-ranging and easy. He spoke of his estate and Serenity got the idea that he particularly wished her to know of it.
As far as she understood it, Mariton Hall was a rather large estate in northern Suffolk nearby the Norfolk border. She listened intently as Lord Thorpe described the extent of the rooms and grounds. She was delighted to understand there was a good-sized lake on the property and a host of sailboats, as well as a yew hedge maze of some magnitude. The gardens were filled with roses and wisteria, and there were several greenhouses. Perhaps what affected her most, and she did have to control her feelings over it, was the description of the stables. Every possible comfort had been thought of for the horses belonging to the estate. She supposed Jupiter might be quite comfortable there.
She supposed she might be very comfortable there herself!
*
Charles had neverendured a more tedious dinner in his life.More than tedious, actually. It was positively enraging. He spent most of it wishing to stab the spaniel girl with his fork over her stupid spaniel stories. Apparently, spaniels could do everything in the wide world—warn against fire and flood, find gold, and finally, tell the time. Maybe they carried round pocket watches! Maybe he should inquire into that with the all-knowing Lady Veracity or Veritable or whatever her godforsaken name was!
He pleasantly imagined killing Lady Very-Tedious with his fork, removing the utensil, and using it to stab Lady Vera on his other side. If he could manage it, he’d retrieve the fork once more and aim it across the table at Lady Winny. Then, and finally, they would all stop talking.
What did the duke mean by countenancing these girls? If he were their father, he’d lock them up until they could conduct themselves with some modicum of sense. As it was, the duke seemed to find them all amusing.
They were not in the slightest amusing.
More aggravating than that, though, was the girls’ constant chatter had boxed him in while Thorpe went on in conversation with Lady Serenity. He’d heard snippets of that—Thorpe described the gardens at Mariton Hall while the lady professed a particular admiration for roses and wisteria.
He wanted to overturn the table over it. Mariton Hall, had the fates had any sense at all, should have been his. He should have been born first. Every time he went home he could barely stand looking around at its architecture and contents, knowing it had been all but stolen from him.
His story about Clara and the fifty pounds had not gone over as well as he thought it must. He had presumed that the duke, at least, would be condemning over the theft of fifty pounds. Why had they all been so sympathetic to Clara? She’d been only a housemaid stupid enough to get herself in trouble.
He really did not understand these people. However, understand them or not, something must be done. Thorpe seemed to be doing far too well with Lady Serenity.
He’d tried to darken Thorpe’s character with the story about the theft, but it had not worked. Something drastic must be done.
Even now, as they had retreated to the drawing room, things were looking bad. Thorpe had decided to take on the duke’s habit of bringing the port and brandy into the drawing room with the ladies.
Charles suspected his brother had thought ahead of what he would do when they got there. He’d suggested a game of piquet with Lady Serenity, which she’d happily accepted.
How convenient to suggest a card game that only admitted two people. He was left playing Commerce with the duke’s deranged daughters while the duke himself had commandeered the brandy bottle and made good use of it.
They were all very lucky that there were no sharp objects within his reach. Perhaps he could not kill those girls, but he could kill whatever was currently brewing between Thorpe and Lady Serenity. He just needed the right idea. A big and bold idea.
Thorpe never won against him and Charles was determined that they would not begin a new precedent now.
As he sat and stewed over it, not giving a toss if he won at Commerce or not, an idea began to form. Perhaps more could be made of the story of Clara and the fifty pounds. After all, was it not rather hard to believe that Thorpe would have stolen the money out of the goodness of his heart? Who ever heard of such a thing? It might be the truth, but it did not sound like the truth. Surely, another truth might be communicated.
Anonymously, this time.
*
Roland had thoughtwell ahead how he would manage the drawing room after dinner. He intended to flatter the duke by following his example of bringing the port and brandy into the drawing room. It also held several other benefits. He would not be long parted from Lady Serenity, which was the whole point of the dinner. As well, he would not have to spend a tedious amount of time with Charles over port.
Charles, it was becoming apparent, did not understand the duke’s family at all. His bringing up the story about Clara had flown as well as a butterfly with lead wings, crashing down just as fast. To Charles, staff were barely people and not to be sympathized with as one might with another more elevated person. In truth, Roland was fairly sure that the only person walking the earth who’d ever garnered Charles’ sympathy was Charles himself. If one was forever mulling over one’s perceived slights, there was not room for any other consideration.
Roland had wasted no time inquiring if Lady Serenity were willing to engage in a game of piquet. Now, they had sat at a small and round card table he’d had brought in ahead of time for the very purpose.
