“It was very fine weather today, wasn’t it?” she said.
He set down his flatware and dabbed at both corners of his mouth with his napkin before replying. “Yes, quite fine.”
Encouraged, Pandora asked, “What kind of clouds do you like better—cumulus or stratocumulus?”
He regarded her with a slight frown. After a long pause, he asked, “What is the difference?”
“Well, cumulus are the fluffier, rounder clouds, like this heap of potatoes on my plate.” Using her fork, Pandora spread, swirled, and dabbed the potatoes. “Stratocumulus are flatter and can form lines or waves—like this—and can either form a large mass or break into smaller pieces.”
He was expressionless as he watched her. “I prefer flat clouds that look like a blanket.”
“Altostratus?” Pandora asked in surprise, setting down her fork. “But those are the boring clouds. Why do you like them?”
“They usually mean it’s going to rain. I like rain.”
This showed promise of actually turning into a conversation. “I like to walk in the rain too,” Pandora exclaimed.
“No, I don’t like to walk in it. I like to stay in the house.” After casting a disapproving glance at her plate, the man returned his attention to eating.
Chastened, Pandora let out a noiseless sigh. Picking up her fork, she tried to inconspicuously push her potatoes into a proper heap again.
Fact #64 Never sculpt your food to illustrate a point during small talk. Men don’t like it.
As Pandora looked up, she discovered Phoebe’s gaze on her. She braced inwardly for a sarcastic remark.
But Phoebe’s voice was gentle as she spoke. “Henry and I once saw a cloud over the English Channel that was shaped in a perfect cylinder. It went on as far as the eye could see. Like someone had rolled up a great white carpet and set it in the sky.”
It was the first time Pandora had ever heard Phoebe mention her late husband’s name. Tentatively she asked, “Did you and he ever try to find shapes in the clouds?”
“Oh, all the time. Henry was very clever—he could find dolphins, ships, elephants, and roosters. I could never see a shape until he pointed it out. But then it would appear as if by magic.” Phoebe’s gray eyes turned crystalline with infinite variations of tenderness and wistfulness.
Although Pandora had experienced grief before, having lost both parents and a brother, she understood that this was a different kind of loss, a heavier weight of pain. Filled with compassion and sympathy, she dared to say, “He . . . he sounds like a lovely man.”
Phoebe smiled faintly, their gazes meeting in a moment of warm connection. “He was,” she said. “Someday I’ll tell you about him.”
And finally Pandora understood where a little small talk about the weather might lead.
After dinner, instead of the customary separation of the sexes, the assemblage retired together to the second floor family room, a spacious area arranged with clusters of seating and tables. Like the downstairs summer parlor, it faced the ocean with a row of screened windows to catch the breeze. A tea tray, plates of sweets, port, and brandy were brought up, and a box of cigars was set out on the shaded balcony for gentlemen who wished to indulge. Now that the formal dinner was concluded, the atmosphere was wonderfully relaxed. From time to time, someone would go to the upright piano and plunk out a tune.
Pandora went to sit in a group with Cassandra and the other young women, but she was obliged to stop as a set of warm masculine fingers closed around her wrist.
Gabriel’s voice fell gently against her ear. “What were you discussing with the prim Mr. Arterson while stirring your potatoes so industriously?”
Pandora turned and looked up at him, wishing she didn’t feel such a leap of gladness at the fact that he’d sought her out. “How did you notice what I was doing all the way from the other end of the table?”
“I nearly did myself injury, straining to see and hear you all through dinner.”
As she stared up into his smiling eyes, she felt as if her heart were opening all its windows. “I was demonstrating cloud formations with my potatoes,” she said. “I don’t think Mr. Arterson appreciated my stratocumulus.”
“I’m afraid we’re all a bit too frivolous for him.”
“No, one can’t blame him. I knew better than to play with my food, and I’ve resolved never to do it again.”
Mischief flickered in his eyes. “What a pity. I was about to show you the one thing carrots are good for.”
“What is it?” she asked, her interest piqued.
“Come with me.”
Pandora followed him to the other side of the room. Their progress was briefly interrupted as a half-dozen children crossed in front of them to pilfer sweets from the sideboard.
“Don’t take the carrot,” Gabriel told them, as a multitude of small hands snatched almond and currant cakes, sticky squares of quince paste, crisp snow-white meringues, and tiny chocolate biscuits.
Ivo turned and replied with a chocolate biscuit making a bulge in his cheek. “No one is even thinking of taking the carrot,” he told his older brother. “It’s the safest carrot in the world.”
“Not for long,” Gabriel said, reaching over the herd of feasting children to retrieve a single raw carrot from the side of a dessert tray.
“Oh, you’re going to do that,” Ivo said. “May we stay and watch?”
“Be my guest.”
“What is he going to do?” Pandora asked Ivo, wildly curious, but Ivo was prevented from answering as a matron approached to shoo the marauders away from the plates of sweets.
“Off with you, now!” the vexed mother exclaimed. “Begone! Those sweets are too rich for you, which is why you were all given plain sponge cake at the end of your dinner.”
“But sponge cake is just air,” one of the children grumbled, while pocketing an almond cake.
Suppressing a smile, Gabriel addressed his younger brother in a quiet undertone. “Ivo, weren’t you put in charge of managing this lot? It’s time to demonstrate some leadership.”
“This is leadership,” Ivo informed him. “I’m the one who led them in here.”
Pandora exchanged a laughing glance with Gabriel. “No one likes dry sponge cake,” she said in Ivo’s defense. “One may as well eat a sponge.”
“I’ll take them out in a minute,” Ivo promised. “But first I want to fetch Lord Trenear—he’ll want to see the carrot trick.” He dashed off before anyone could reply. The boy had taken a liking to Devon, whose straightforward masculine character and ready sense of humor appealed to him.
After settling the matron’s ruffled feathers, and cautioning the children not to take all the sweets, Gabriel led Pandora toward a narrow pier table in the corner of the room.
“Now, what is that for?” she asked, watching as he took out a pocket knife and pared the end of the carrot.
“It’s part of a card trick.” Casually Gabriel set the carrot into a silver candleholder on the pier table. “In the absence of an honest talent such as singing or playing piano, I’ve had to develop what few skills I possess. Especially since for the greater part of my youth”—he had raised his voice just enough that his father, who sat at a nearby table playing whist with the other gentlemen, could hear—“I was abandoned to the unwholesome companionship of the sharpers and criminals who frequented my father’s club.”
The duke glanced over his shoulder with an arched brow. “I thought it would benefit you to learn about worldly vice firsthand, so you would know what to avoid in the future.”
Gabriel turned back to Pandora with a glint of self-mocking amusement in his eyes. “Now I’ll never know if I could have earned a misspent youth on my own, instead of having it handed to me on a silver platter.”
“What are you going to do to the carrot?” she demanded.
“Patience,” he cautioned, retrieving a fresh deck of cards from a stack on a nearby tray table. He opened the box and set it aside. Not above showing off, he
shuffled the cards in midair, executing a riffle and bridge cascade.
Pandora’s eyes widened. “How do you do that without a table?” she asked.
“It’s all in how you hold the deck.” With one hand, he divided the deck in half and flipped both halves onto the back of his hand. With breathtaking dexterity, he tossed the two packets of cards into the air so that they spun around completely and landed in perfect reverse order in his palm. He continued with a rapid succession of flourishes, making the cards fly from one hand to the other in a fluid stream, then blossom into a pair of circular fans that snapped shut. All of it was magically graceful and quick.
Devon, who had come with Ivo to watch the proceedings, gave a low whistle of admiration. “Remind me never to play cards with him,” he told Ivo. “I would lose my entire estate within minutes.”
“I’m a mediocre player at best,” Gabriel said, spinning a single card on his fingertip as if it were a pinwheel. “My talent with cards is limited to pointless entertainment.”
Leaning close to Pandora, Devon counseled as if imparting a great secret, “Every card sharp begins by lulling you into a false sense of superiority.”
Pandora was so mesmerized by Gabriel’s card manipulations that she barely heard the advice.
“I may not be able to do this straight off,” Gabriel warned. “Usually I need some practice first.” He retreated to a distance of approximately fifteen feet from the table, and the nearby whist game paused temporarily as the gentlemen watched the proceedings.
Holding the corner of a single card between his index and middle fingers, Gabriel drew his arm back as if for an overhand throw. He focused on the carrot with narrowed eyes. His arm moved in a fast forward pitch, finishing with a flick of his wrist, and the card shot through the air. An inch-long section of the carrot was instantly severed. Lightning-fast, Gabriel threw a second card, and the rest of the carrot was divided in half.
Laughter and a smattering of applause came from around the room, and the children at the sideboard exclaimed in delight.
“Impressive,” Devon said to Gabriel with a grin. “If I could do that in a tavern, I’d never have to pay for a drink. How much practice did it take?”
“Regrettably, bushels of innocent carrots were sacrificed over a period of years.”
“Well worth it, I’d say.” Devon glanced at Pandora, his eyes twinkling. “With your permission, I’ll rejoin the whist game before they boot me out of it.”
“Of course,” she said.
Ivo observed the group of children still at the sideboard, and heaved a sigh. “They’re out of control,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to do something about it.” He executed a precise bow in Pandora’s direction. “You look very pretty tonight, Lady Pandora.”
“Thank you, Ivo,” she said demurely, and grinned as Ivo hurried away to herd his charges from the room. “What a little rogue,” she said.
“I think our grandfather—his namesake—would have doted on him,” Gabriel replied. “There’s more Jenner than Challon in Ivo, which is to say more fire than ice.”
“The Ravenels are rather too fiery,” Pandora said ruefully.
“So I’ve heard.” Gabriel looked amused. “Does that include you?”
“Yes, but I’m not angry all that often, it’s more that I’m . . . excitable.”
“I enjoy a woman with a lively nature.”
“That’s a very nice way to put it, but I’m not just lively.”
“Yes, you’re also beautiful.”
“No”—Pandora swallowed back an uncomfortable laugh—“no compliments, remember. I didn’t say ‘I’m not just lively’ to imply that I have other qualities, I meant that I’m extremely, inconveniently lively in a way that makes me terribly difficult to live with.”
“Not for me.”
She glanced at him uncertainly. Something in his voice caused a flutter in her stomach, like flower tendrils delicately searching for places to adhere.
“Would you like to play a game of whist?” he asked.
“Just the two of us?”
“At the small table near the window.” As she hesitated, he pointed out, “We’re in the company of at least two dozen people.”
There could be no harm in that. “Yes, but you should be warned: My cousin West taught me whist, and I’m very good at it.”
He smiled. “I’ll expect a fleecing, then.”
After Gabriel had obtained a sealed deck of cards, they went to the screened windows. He seated Pandora at a small marquetry table inlaid with precious woods that depicted a Japanese bonsai tree and a pagoda hung with tiny mother-of-pearl lanterns.
Gabriel opened the cards, shuffled them expertly and dealt thirteen apiece. He set the rest of the deck facedown on the table and turned the top card faceup. Whist was a trick-taking game with two stages: In the first stage, players tried to collect the best cards for themselves, and in the second, they competed to win the most tricks.
To Pandora’s satisfaction, she had acquired an exceptionally good hand with numerous trumps and high cards. She enjoyed herself immensely, taking risks whereas Gabriel was, predictably, more careful and conservative. As they talked, he entertained her with stories about his family’s gaming club. Pandora was especially amused by one about a card cheat, who had always ordered a plate of sandwiches during the game. It turned out that he had been slipping unwanted cards into his sandwiches. The scheme had been discovered when another player tried to eat a ham and potted cheese on rye, and ended up with a two of spades caught between his teeth.
Pandora had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. “Gaming is illegal, isn’t it? Are there ever raids on your club?”
“Usually the respectable West End clubs are left alone. Especially Jenner’s, since half the legislators in England are members. However, we’ve taken precautions in the event that a raid occurs.”
“Such as?”
“Such as installing metal-plated doors that can be bolted shut until the evidence is disposed of. And there are escape tunnels for club members who can’t afford to be seen. Also, I regularly grease a few palms in the police force to ensure that we have adequate warning before a raid.”
“You bribe the police?” Pandora whispered in surprise, mindful of being overheard.
“It’s a common practice.”
The information wasn’t at all appropriate for a young lady’s ears, which of course made it all the more fascinating. It was a glimpse of a side of life that was utterly foreign to her.
“Thank you for being so frank with me,” she said spontaneously. “It’s nice to be treated like an adult.” With a quick, awkward laugh, she added, “Even if I don’t always behave like one.”
“Being imaginative and playful doesn’t make you any less of an adult,” Gabriel said gently. “It only makes you a more interesting one.”
No one had ever said anything like that to her before, praising her faults as if they were virtues. Did he mean it? Blushing and perplexed, Pandora lowered her gaze to her cards.
Gabriel paused. “While we’re on the subject of Jenner’s,” he said slowly, “there’s something I want to tell you. It’s nothing of import, but I feel I should mention it.” Faced with her quizzical silence, he explained, “I met your brother a few years ago.”
Thunderstruck by the revelation, Pandora could only stare at him. She tried to imagine Theo in the company of this man. They had been similar in the most obvious ways, both tall, wellborn, handsome, but they couldn’t have been more different beneath the surface.
“He visited the club with a friend,” Gabriel continued, “and decided to apply for membership. The manager referred him to me.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “I’m afraid we had to refuse him.”
“Because of his credit?” Pandora faltered. “Or was it his temperament?” At his long hesitation before replying, she said anxiously, “Both. Oh, dear. Theo didn’t take it well, did he? Was there an argument?”
“Somethi
ng like that.”
Which meant that her volatile brother must have behaved very badly indeed.
Her face heated with shame. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Theo was always crossing swords with people he couldn’t intimidate. And you’re the kind of man he was always pretending to be.”
“I didn’t tell you to make you uncomfortable.” Gabriel used the pretext of reaching for a card to inconspicuously stroke the back of her hand. “God knows his behavior was no reflection on you.”
“I think he felt like a fraud inside,” she said pensively, “and that made him angry. He was an earl, but the estate was a shambles and in terrible debt, and he knew practically nothing about how to manage it.”
“Did he ever discuss it with you?”
Pandora smiled without humor. “No, Theo never discussed anything with me, or with Cassandra and Helen. My family wasn’t like yours at all. We were like . . .” She hesitated thoughtfully. “Well, there was something I once read . . .”
“Tell me,” Gabriel said softly.
“It was an astronomy book that said in most of the constellations, the stars don’t actually belong together. They only appear to. They look to us as if they’re close to each other, but some of them exist in another part of the galaxy altogether. That’s how my family was. We seemed to belong to the same group, but we were all very far apart. Except for me and Cassandra, of course.”
“What about Lady Helen?”
“She’s always been very loving and kind, but she lived in her own world. We’re much closer now, actually.” Pandora paused, staring at him fixedly and thinking she could try for hours to describe her family, and she still wouldn’t be able to convey the truth of it. The way her parents’ love for each other had been conducted like warfare. The glittering beauty of her untouchable mother, who would disappear to London for long stretches of time. Her father, with his unpredictable mixture of violence and indifference. Helen, who had appeared only rarely, like a visiting wraith, and Theo, with his occasional moments of careless kindness.
“Your life at Eversby Priory was very secluded,” Gabriel commented.