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.”