“You know how they all are,” Roger said with a full-body, helpless sort of shrug.“Everything turns into a laugh.”He sighed.“Or worse, something indecent.”Color crept across his cheeks as he adjusted his spectacles.“I mentioned my idea to Torquil before we all left London at the end of the Season, and they suggested that aprivateparty would make Wyn happier.”
“Is this not a private party?”Sage asked.“Forty people you are both well acquainted with is hardly a public affair.”
“A different sort of party,” Roger strained.“You know.Alone.”
Sage made a face.“What’s so special about that?”
“That’s what I said!”The man huffed and slapped his hands against the outside of his thighs in exasperation.“This is supposed to be an opportunity foreveryonewho loves Wyn to come together and celebrate.”
“And you’ve nearly done it,” Sage said, surprising himself with how reassuring it had come out.Roger sounded like he could really use it, though.“We both know he’s going to appreciate all the work you’ve put into this.Even if it is too dark to see.”
Roger laughed and nodded his agreement.“I know you’re right.”
They both turned when Roger’s man Notley appeared.
“Sir, there seems to be an issue in the kitchen.”
“Oh dear.”Roger hurried over to him.“What is it now?”
“It is in regard to the ice cream.”Notley put a special emphasis on the last two words; Sage couldn’t decide if it was because he was unaccustomed to saying them or if he was indicating yetanotherproblem.Roger’s groan of frustration was answer enough.Without a glance, he left with Notley.Sage shook his head after them with a faint grin and took the long way back to the house as to not let them be seen returning from the same direction.
