behalf of the gracious Lady Whitmore, who has made this day possible.”
Sarah glanced around, but as usual among visitors, her ladyship was nowhere to be seen.
“To be honest,” the duke said humorously, “I always meant to announce that it was my pleasure to open this exhibition. But I did not expect to mean it to quite this degree. You will find, as I did, an astonishing array of fresh talent, beauty, and skill in this room, so please, take the time to truly look at the work on display. You will find it well worth your time—and money, though I shall do my best to outbid you! I give you a toast—to the art of Whitmore.”
His speech surprised Sarah by its simplicity and appreciation. There was no effort to show off among his fine friends or to detract from the artists by his own wit. And what His Grace had endorsed, the rest were eager to view.
Sarah, examining a delightful sculpture between Hammy and Miss Smith, knew a flutter of anticipation as she saw Vexen making his way slowly but inexorably toward them. The fashionable lady she had already noticed drew his attention to the painting she was examining. He smiled and said a few words, but kept walking. Hastily. Sarah returned her attention to the sculpture of a child with a mischievous smile.
“I imagine you were exactly like that,” Miss Smith remarked.
“She was,” Hammy confirmed.
“She was what?” the duke asked mildly. “Good afternoon, ladies.
“A mischievous child,” Miss Smith explained when the introductions had been made. “Exactly like this charming sculpture.”
Vexen regarded it critically and then looked Sarah over in much the same manner, a half-smile lurking on his lips. “They are both charming, certainly, though Miss Sarah has the advantage in beauty, and I cannot imagine she was ever as naughty as this child.”
“Hah!” Hammy exclaimed.
“Why,” the duke continued, returning his attention to the sculpture, “this child looks as if he could get up to anything, even throw fruit at one’s back in passing, just to test his aim. Acquit Miss Sarah of such imprudence.”
“Of course, I acquit her of it now,” Hammy said.
“In that case, I feel brave enough to offer my escort,” the duke replied, smiling.
Sarah smiled back in polite acceptance, but his words inspired a twinge of unease. Why would he think of throwing fruit at someone?
Because it had happened to him…
And now that she thought of it, in the strange interlude after Arcadi’s invasion and her song, had he not mentioned apple tarts?
Yes, but there were apple tarts, and she was being silly, examining everything through her own guilt.
Even though I am not guilty. He is…
Tea was served in the music room, where chairs and tables had been set out. Inevitably, as people mingled and Sarah was joined by old Whitmore friends, Vexen and she were separated. Although she was eager to look around and see if he watched her, she controlled herself, and in time was rewarded by his return, along with the fashionable lady and the gentleman who had called her beautiful.
Vexen performed the introductions. The newcomers were a Mr. Shaddleton and his sister Lady Loxley, who looked thoroughly amused by the names presented to her.
However, to Sarah’s surprise, Miss Loxley sat down next to her and smiled. “So, have you lived for long in Whitmore?”
“A little over a year.”
“And is one of those charming paintings yours, perhaps?”
“Oh, no,” Sarah replied. “I am not nearly good enough for such recognition.”
“No? But you do study accomplishments here? What is your favorite?”
“Singing.”
“Ah.” Lady Loxley smiled. “Perhaps you are involved in tonight’s musical evening?”
“I do have that honor,” Saraah admitted, and could have sworn an expression of annoyed surprise flashed through the other woman’s eyes.
However, at least she held her smile. “Then I can see why His Grace wishes to stay longer. He is devoted to music. Which is one reason he and I suit so well.”
Sarah hid the pained catching of her breath. “And does your husband also enjoy music?”
“He did when he was alive,” Lady Loxley drawled.
“Forgive me, I did not know,” Sarah said awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I caused you pain.”
Lady Loxley waved a careless hand. “Not at all. I have grown used to the advantages of widowhood.” She smiled, her gaze flitting to the duke.
So, was Sarah meant to understand that Vexen and Lady Loxley were engaged? Or merely lovers? Either made no difference. That the older woman was subtly warning her off was in fact a triumph for Sarah, because Lady