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.”