“It should do for dinner,” Eva said.
Padua thought it would do for a ball. It was the most beautiful dress she had ever worn.
She lifted the looking glass off her dressing table and stared at herself. At Eva’s instructions, her maid had dressed her hair differently. The curls did not appear disheveled the way they normally did, but instead piled artistically on her crown. Her eyes looked very big, butshe suspected that was because she could not quite believe what she saw.
Eva came over. Her hands rose. “You will wear these.” She attached an earbob to Padua’s right ear, then moved to do the same to the left.
Padua felt the bobs. Small red jewels, their weight swung merrily when she moved her head. “You are spoiling me, Eva.”
“I think you deserve a bit of spoiling. There are not many women who could even hope to bring Lord Ywain Hemingford to his knees. I confess I am enjoying the show.”
“He is hardly on his knees.”
“He has forgotten himself. Gareth is fascinated.”
“Probably because I am the least likely woman to cause his brother to behave out of the ordinary.”
“You do not give yourself enough credit. I know how that is. I was the least likely woman to attract Gareth. It took me months to realize that was the reason I did. He had grown jaded. In light of that, apparently I was actually interesting.”
Padua did not think it had been so simple. Gareth doted on Eva. His love for her showed in his eyes. He did not merely find her interesting.
“I must go and see to my own dress,” Eva said. “You look stunning, Padua. I cannot wait to see Ives’s reaction.”
After Eva left, Padua walked about to get used to the dress. She did not want to be stiff like a puppet. The raw silk of the underdress made elegant littleswishes when she moved, but it fell like water around her legs.
She laughed at herself, and forced herself to sit at the writing desk in her bedchamber. She opened one of the letters that had arrived. Jennie wrote demanding to know where she had gone after sending the ambiguous note that she would leave Langley House and London for a few days. She added that Mrs. Ludlow had hired a replacement to teach mathematics. Jennie suspected the woman lacked the ability to complete even mid-level arithmetic ciphers.
Padua took no pleasure in reading that. It saddened her to know that if there were a student in the school who possessed the interest and ability to learn more, the opportunity would never be afforded her.
She lifted the other letter. This one came from Mr. Notley. Her reaction on reading it after breakfast had been confusing. It should have brought her joy. While it did, that emotion had been tempered with another. Even now as she read the few lines jotted by his clerk, a wistfulness claimed her.
He expected to have news soon about her father’s inheritance, he wrote. He would contact her through Langley House, as she had instructed. As for her father, he still refused to see Mr. Notley, so the lawyer’s hands remained tied.
He mentioned nothing about arranging that food be brought to the prison. Having taken on the charge, Mr. Notley did not find any need to reassure her he executed it. She did not doubt he did.
Time to go below soon. She sat, waiting. She faced the bed. Would Ives come here tonight? Probably so. They both knew their time was limited, even if they did not speak of it.A magical place, far away. A different world.Not her world. Not even his anymore.
***
“Who decided I wanted a proper dinner party?” Lance indicated his opinion of the decision with the way he pulled on his cravat’s wrapping fabric. He kept sticking a finger between it and his neck, as if the binding interfered with his breathing.
“Eva,” Gareth said.
“I do not know why servants immediately defer to a woman once one enters the house. I was not even consulted.”
“She commanded they not bother you with such minor things.”
“That is because she knew I would countermand her orders.”
Ives did not join in the bickering. He watched from the chair in which he lounged in the drawing room. Most of his mind dwelled on Padua, and their time on the hill during the afternoon.
“Stop complaining like a peevish boy,” Gareth said. “You have grown too comfortable with living alone, Lance. It breeds a disdain for the least formality. The butler said that sometimes you forgo a proper dinner entirely, and call for bread and cheese. If we had dalliedon the Continent, we would have found a barbarian when we finally returned.”
“I am not objecting to decent food. I am complaining about this damned cravat. It gave my valet unseemly pleasure to garrote me with it, and he objected adamantly when I wanted one less formal. He overdid the starch in this collar too. I will probably cut myself on it.”
Gareth looked to Ives for help. Ives shrugged.
“If you must know,” Gareth said. He hesitated.
