"Do." Capturing her gaze, Vane raised one finger and traced the line of her cheek. Then lightly tapped. "Later." With a nod, he strode for the door.
For Patience, Lady Hendricks's musicale that evening proved to be an eminently forgettable experience. As well as herself, Minnie and Timms, all three Chadwicks, and Edmond, attended.
Inducing Henry and Edmond to join the party had been simplicity itself; over luncheon, she'd blithely asked Gerrard to escort their otherwise all-female party that evening. Put on the spot, Gerrard had blushed and stumbled into an apology; from the corner of her eye, Patience had seen Henry and Edmond glance surreptitiously at each other. Before Gerrard got to the end of his explanation, Henry interrupted to offer his services. Edmond, recalling the connection between music and drama, declared he would come, too.
As they crossed the threshold of Lady Hendricks's music room, Patience congratulated herself on her masterful success.
They made their bows to their hostess, then passed on, into the already crowded room. In Minnie's wake, Patience walked on Edmond's arm. Henry's had been claimed by his mother. Minnie and Timms were well-known; those greeting them nodded and smiled at Patience, too. Garbed in a new gown, she returned the greetings serenely, inwardly amazed at the confidence imparted by a sheath of moss green silk.
Timms steered Minnie to a half-vacant chaise. They took possession of the free space, striking up a conversation with the lady already ensconced in the other corner. Leaving the rest of the party milling aimlessly.
With an inward sigh, Patience took charge. "There's a chair over there, Henry. Perhaps you might fetch it for your mama."
"Oh. Right." Henry strode to where a chair remained unclaimed by the wall. At the exhortation of their hostess, all the guests were settling; seating was suddenly in short supply.
They sat Mrs. Chadwick beside Minnie's chaise.
"What about me?" Angela, gowned in a white dress overendowed with pink rosettes and cerise ribbon, stood twisting her fingers in said ribbon.
"There're some chairs over there." Edmond indicated a few empty seats in the ranks of straight-backed chairs lined up before the pianoforte and harp.
Patience nodded. "We'll sit there."
They headed for the chairs. They'd almost gained their objective when Angela balked. "I think the other side might be better."
Patience was not deceived. The few youthful sprigs forced by their mamas to attend had clumped in a petulant group on the other side of the room. "Your mama would expect you to sit with your brother." Deftly twining arms, she anchored Angela to her side. "Young ladies who venture about on their own rapidly gain a reputation for being fast."
Angela pouted. And cast longing looks across the room. "It's only a few yards away."
"A few yards too many." Reaching the vacant chairs, Patience sat, dragging Angela down beside her. Edmond slid into the chair on Patience's left; rather than sit beside his sister, Henry opted to sit behind Patience. As the performers appeared to polite applause, Henry shuffled his chair forward, hissing sotto voce to Angela to move aside.
Disapproving glances were cast their way. Patience turned her head and glared. Henry desisted.
With an inward sigh of relief, Patience settled in her chair and prepared to give her attention to the music.
Henry leaned forward and hissed in her ear: "Quite a smart gathering, isn't it? Daresay this is how foraush ladies spend most of their evenings."
Before Patience could react, the pianist laid her fingers on the keys and commenced a prelude, one of Patience's favorites. Inwardly sighing, she prepared to sink into the comfort of the familiar strains.
"Bach." Edmond leaned closer, head nodding with the beat. "A neat little piece. Designed to convey the joys of spring. Odd choice for this time of year."
Patience closed her eyes and clamped her lips shut. And heard Henry shift behind her shoulder.
"The harp sounds like spring rains, don't you think?"
Patience gritted her teeth.
Edmond's voice reached her. "My dear Miss Debbington, are you feeling quite the thing? You look rather pale."
Her hands tightly clasped in her lap against the urge to box a few ears, Patience opened her eyes. "I fear," she murmured, "that I might be developing a headache."
"Oh."
"Ah."
Blessed silence reigned-for all of half a minute.
"Perhaps if…"