Of Noble Family (31 page)

Vincent slid a piece of that same turbot across his plate. He had been artfully arranging his meal and lifting his fork at correct intervals, but Jane was not certain he had taken more than three mouthfuls all evening. “Everything really is quite wonderful. In general, I must say that I have been very impressed with how the great house has been run.”

“But not the rest of the estate?” Lord Verbury raised his brow.

“I can hardly compliment Miss Sarah on the rest of the estate, and I thought that some of the credit for the house belonged to her.” Vincent reached for his glass of claret. “Speaking of compliments … your cellar, sir, is everything I recalled it to be. Some excellent vintages. Truly.”

The side of Lord Verbury's mouth twisted into a half smile, as if he was acknowledging the successful change in subject rather than the compliment. He lifted his own glass and offered a toast in return. “I have always believed in proper management of barrels. However, the credit for this vintage belongs in part to your grandfather, who had the foresight to lay down wine for me.” He swirled the glass, watching the deep, sanguine liquid legs drip back down the crystal. “I have endeavoured to do the same for the next generation. You should … you should feel free to add to it.”

“Thank you.” Vincent regarded his father before lifting the glass to him. “I shall.”

Jane let out a slow, careful breath. Though the conversation had, on the surface, appeared to be about wine, in a very real sense what they had been discussing was dynasty. It was a very small part of the negotiation that this dinner represented, but Jane nevertheless felt a great deal of relief to have any agreement between the two men.

The conversation continued on the topic of food and wine for some time, with Lord Verbury even sharing an amusing story of a dinner with an ambassador from the Ottoman Empire and a blunder his lordship had made when young, involving an embarrassing mistake in translation. That he was willing to share a story and invite them to laugh at him, Jane marked as a great victory. She still did not trust him, but she acknowledged that he could be a charming conversationist when it suited.

Vincent's countenance began to open, and he shared a story about his first experience with an Italian pasta dish called
vermicelli
, which was a flour paste drawn out in long threads. “You would think that, as a glamourist, I would be able to handle multiple strands, but no matter how I twisted my fork, it would all slip off and then splash in the sauce, which was a shocking red. My cravat looked as if I had been shot.”

Lord Verbury wiped his eyes, laughing. “Oh … my first encounter with it when I took my Grand Tour went much the same way. Except that it was a sauce made from squid ink. Delicious, but very black. You could have mistaken me for an apprentice clerk who was soon to be let go for wasting ink.” He turned to Jane. “Did you have the opportunity to try
vermicelli
in Venice?”

“No, the local cuisine largely favours a dish called
polenta
, which is a sort of porridge made from corn meal and cream. It is buttery, delightful, and eaten with a spoon.”

Miss Sarah sat back in her chair as Zachary cleared the first course and prepared to turn the table. “Oh, yes—tell us more about Venice. Mrs. Whitten lent me a copy of Lord Byron's
Childe Harold
, and I was enchanted by his descriptions of the canals.”

“To be honest, we did not spend much time playing the tourist.” Partly because they had been there to work, and Jane did not wish to open a discussion with Lord Verbury of either glamour or of their business with the glassmakers in Murano.

As Zachary laid the clean cloth on the table, Vincent shifted in his seat and directed the conversation back to his father. “Did you make it to Venice on your tour? It must have been astonishing before the fall of the Republic.”

“Alas, no. I chose to go to Cyprus instead.” Lord Verbury cleared his throat. “Speaking of Venice, Pridmore tells me that you dissuaded his wife from a glamural of Venice for the charity ball.”

“I—yes.” Vincent's shoulders tightened ever so slightly.

Jane sat forward to draw Lord Verbury's attention away from Vincent. “We are doing an homage to the Northwest Passage expedition. Have you read anything about it?”

Miss Sarah smiled. “Oh yes. I saw that in the newspaper. Ah—here is Zeus with the second course.”

As Zachary carried in the dishes for that course and set them on the table, the conversation turned again to the quantity and quality of the food and gave them safe ground for some time.

Miss Sarah sent the dish of sliced pineapple around to Jane. “Please have more. It is accounted to be excellent for an expectant mother.”

Discussing her expectant condition openly in mixed company caused Jane's cheeks to warm. At home a woman's state was only ever alluded to as being “in a family way.”

Jane lowered her gaze as if more embarrassed than she was but silently thanked Miss Sarah for reminding his lordship of Jane's state. The blush could only make the topic seem more artless. This was the first time that Jane had ever had the occasion to thank her transparent complexion.

It was interesting to see that she and Miss Sarah had a mutual goal. “We have not wished you joy, yet.” Lord Verbury lifted his glass. “To your health.”

The glasses flashed in the candlelight as each member of their small dinner party joined in the toast. Jane blushed again, in more earnest, and murmured, “Thank you.”

Setting his glass down, Lord Verbury turned to his son. “Have you thought of names?”

“Some.… Nothing we have settled upon.”

“I should like to make the request again that you consider Frederick.” He held up his hand to forestall any protest. “It was my father's name as well, so he need not be named for me.”

“I will take that under consideration.”

“You do not need to decline so quickly.”

“I merely said that we would consider it.”

“Recall who taught you how to say ‘no' without using the word.”

Jane laughed, trying to lighten the moment. “I do not think we shall be able to name the child until we meet him. My own father was originally to be a Gilbert, but upon his birth my grandparents decided that the name did not suit and chose Charles instead.”

Lord Verbury snorted. “If all children were named in that manner, they would all have the names of drunken old men, for I have never seen a baby yet who did not appear thus.”

Vincent inclined his head. “You may have something there.”

“Children grow into their names. Your first mark of shaping them is by your choice of names.” He nodded to Vincent. “Vincent Daniel St. Lawrence Erasmus Hamilton. It has a balance and masculine rhythm to it, but you see how I had to offset the weakness of the first name with the latter ones?”

“I have always liked the name Vincent.” Jane applied herself to the asparagus in front of her. She had expected to spend the evening helping Vincent govern his temper, but her own was in danger of expressing itself. “I thought it was lovely that you chose to honour his maternal grandparents by using their surname in that manner.”

“His mother expressed such a wish for it that I could not do otherwise.” Lord Verbury smiled and for once looked the very picture of a proud father. “And he has certainly grown into it.”

One might almost miss the cut and mistake it for a mark of affection, but Jane could not overlook the fact that he had so recently expressed an opinion that the name “Vincent” was weak.

Her husband replied, “I shall have to write to my Latin professor to let him know that he was incorrect about the definition
vincere
. I had been taught my name had the root ‘to conquer,' but now I find it means ‘weakness.' Of course, I should not be surprised, since ‘Erasmus' means beloved.”

Verbury cocked his head in acknowledgement. “Looking at the root of a word is much like looking at the roots of a tree. The foundation is important, but even a tree with a strong root can still bear sickly fruit if it is subject to mismanagement.”

Jane looked across the table hoping to catch Vincent's eye. “The naming of children is such an
inscrutable
thing.”

Vincent had been giving his plate an intense scrutiny, but now lifted his gaze to meet hers. The corners of his mouth tightened in the slightest hint of a smile. “It does seem so. Besides … it may be a girl, and then all this consideration of boys' names will be for nothing.”

Lord Verbury waved for Zachary to clear his plate. “For now, perhaps, but this will hardly be your only child since you have given up glamour.”

Vincent stopped, fork half raised and set it down again. “I beg your pardon?”

“It cannot have escaped your notice.” Lord Verbury sat back in his chair in frank astonishment. “Good lord. It has.”

“Your meaning is obscure.”

“Surely, you can consult a calendar as well as the next man. You were travelling and not working when your wife conceived. There is a reason glamour is considered a ‘womanly' art, after all.”

The muscle in the corner of Vincent's jaw bunched. He swallowed and turned his attention to Miss Sarah. “Speaking of glamour, I must thank you for training Louisa. She has been a great help to my wife.”

“There it is…” Lord Verbury shook his head and sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing…” He leaned towards Jane and lowered his voice as if he were confiding in her. “I forget that he is a tender soul, and I have made the mistake of pushing too hard in the past. It is unnatural for a father to not want his son to excel, but I must remember that he does not like difficult conversations and respect that.”

Vincent tilted his head and gave a short smile. “I have not avoided them while here.”

“No … I suppose not.” Lord Verbury rested one finger along his cheek and regarded his son. “Shall we excuse the ladies, so that we can drink our port and discuss your concerns?”

“Perhaps that is best, as we are starting to move that way already.” Vincent laid his serviette carefully on the table and slid his chair back. He rose to help Miss Sarah, while Zachary came around to assist Jane with her chair. She rather wished it had been Vincent, but given the nature of the dinner she could not expect it.

If she felt half the strain that Vincent did, she did not know how he managed. Her heart stammered against her ribs and she had to keep one hand on the table to steady herself while the grey spots clouded the edges of her vision. She would not faint. Not here. Not in front of his father. Jane smiled. “I shall be glad of an opportunity to better acquaint myself with Miss Sarah.”

“Yes, the evening has been so pleasant. Do not keep yourselves from us too long, gentlemen.” Miss Sarah put a hand gently on Vincent's arm and said, “I hope you will oblige us with a
tableau vivant
this evening. Your father speaks so highly of your work.”

“You will have me take you for a flatterer.” Vincent bowed over her hand with the fluidity of a courtier.

“Ah … but I do praise you.” Lord Verbury lifted his chin. “I may not have wanted you to pursue glamour, but you have always been good at it.”

Vincent's face stilled with a casual smile etched upon it. He stood with his chin tucked into his collar and his hands clasped behind his back. “I appreciate your consideration in saying so.
Now.
”

That conversation was not going to end well. Jane walked to the end of the table in order to break Vincent's gaze on his father. Affecting a light tone, she said, “You gentlemen are speaking too much of the ineffable art of glamour! You must leave some of the conversation for us.”

“Yes, Frederick.” Miss Sarah shook her finger at him with a little smile. “Promise me that you will not discuss glamour without us.”

Both men made the same sort of little inhale, as if they had been called back into themselves. The similarity of movement made the hair on the nape of Jane's neck stand on end.

Vincent ducked his head—not a tucking of the chin, but a gesture of submission—as he reached into his coat and pulled a set of papers from the interior pocket. “Rest assured, we shall only discuss men's business.”

Across the room, Lord Verbury inclined his head towards Miss Sarah in a similar gesture. “I promise, Sarah. No discussion of glamour without you.”

Jane followed Miss Sarah into the parlour, very much wishing that she were staying in the room with Vincent. Never had the proprieties of being a lady been more vexing than now, with the necessity of retiring to the parlour. Nothing of note ever happened there.

 

Twenty-two

Constant Vigilance

No sooner had Zachary shut the door behind them than Miss Sarah turned to Jane. The easy smile she had worn throughout dinner dropped and she reached for Jane's hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much for freeing my son.” The exquisite modulation that had marked her conversation vanished in a tremor. “I could not mention the subject during dinner, but you must imagine my profound gratitude.”

“Of course. We could do no less.”

Miss Sarah gave a bitter laugh. “I know for a fact that is not true.” She glanced at the clock upon the sideboard. “Shall we sit and pretend to be at our leisure? We have perhaps twenty minutes before one of them suffers a defect of temper, and there is much that we should discuss.”

“Twenty? You may be more hopeful than I.”

Laughing, Miss Sarah wiped her eyes. “Only because I know that Frederick is trying.” She gestured to the small sofa set near the window. “Vincent is astonishingly like his father.”

“They seem very different to me.”

“Given the conditions in which you have met Frederick, I am not surprised.” With a sigh, Miss Sarah sat and arranged her dress around her. “I will grant that their interests are very different, but their headstrong nature and temper bear the same stamp.”