Lady Crawford elbowed her husband sharply.
Peter imagined the nudge was supposed to be discreet, but he did not miss it, nor did he fail to see the Baron’s reaction to being jabbed. He winced away from his wife, then gave her a long, searching look. Her eyes flicked back and forth.
He was mildly fascinated by their silent conversation, but when the silence stretched a beat too long for his comfort, he finally spoke.
“My mother and sister have told me a great deal about you, too, Lord Crawford.” The Baron and Baroness turned to face him once more. “I understand that you have a fine collection of armor.”
“Oh, yes,” Lord Crawford enthused. His eyes lit up with genuine pride. “I have suits of armor that were forged in the Middle Ages. There are others that were worn into battle by great heroes.” He clapped his hands delightedly. “You must let me show you the house, Your Grace.”
“Very well.” Peter nodded his assent. “I should like very much to see your treasures.”
Lord Crawford gestured to the doorway, and Peter made to follow him, when a bell chimed.
“What was that?” Peter asked.
Lady Crawford giggled girlishly. “It is time for dinner.”
“Perhaps we may postpone our trip to the Iron Tower, where I keep the armory,” Lord Crawford suggested.
“That is probably for the best.” Peter smiled at him. “My family and I truly do not want to keep your guests waiting.”
A flurry of noises enveloped them then as people rushed from everywhere. Those who had been seated in the drawing room rose and made their way to the dining room.
From where he was standing, Peter could hear the rustle of skirts and the tap of boot heels as the guests made their way to what was sure to be a sumptuous meal.
“My dear…” Lord Crawford offered his arm to his wife, prompting Peter to hold out both arms to his sister and mother. “Shall we go in?”
“Oh, yes.” Lady Crawford lifted her hand, making the bangles on her wrists jingle. “I am so looking forward to tonight’s meal.” She turned her head slightly so she could look over her shoulder at them. “Cook prepared a little of everyone’s favorite dish. She made the potatoes just the way Ambrose likes them.” She paused and patted her husband’s arm. “And there is a bit of trout for me because the fish course tends to be what I like the best. Then, I believe we will have a spread of fresh fruit for dessert. Our daughter Lavinia loves blackberries, strawberries, gooseberries…” She stopped rattling her list and giggled again. “She really likes berries of all kinds.”
“And where is Lavinia?” Madeline interjected. “I have not seen her.”
“Is she not here?” Lord Crawford asked as they stepped into the dining room and were surrounded by other members of the ton.
“I told you,” Lady Crawford replied, loudly enough for all and sundry to hear, “Lavinia was not feeling well and chose to retire early.”
Thank you.
Peter sent up a quick prayer of gratitude to the heavens for saving him from encountering Miss Lavinia Fitzroy. While his sister did not want him anywhere near her friend, he knew his mother would likely press the issue. He had already imagined being seated next to her at the dining table.
For now, I can breathe easily.
He knew he could not escape making the acquaintance of Miss Fitzroy, but it was nice to know that he would enjoy his dinner in peace.
Dinner soon began, and Peter was not at all dismayed when he turned to his left and found the seat empty. He picked up the place card and read the tiny but neat calligraphy.
Just as I expected. Miss Lavinia Fitzroy.
While he was less than surprised to see that he had been seated next to Lord and Lady Crawford’s daughter, he was curious why she had failed to come down for dinner.
Is she truly ill?
He glanced around the crowded room.
It seems an awfully inconvenient time to feel unwell.
His eyes swept over the throng. He could not be sure who or what he was looking for, but he searched each face, wondering if the others thought it odd that Miss Fitzroy was absent.
He did not ponder the notion for long because there were other treats for his eyes to behold. The opulent dining room was aspectacle.
