"Someone had cleared off a section of the flags. There's an iron ring set in a stone-an old hatch. But the hatch hasn't been opened recently." Vane caught Patience's gaze. "Devil and I lifted it years ago-the cellar beneath was filled in. There's nothing beneath that stone, not even a hole in which something might be hidden. So it doesn't explain anything, least of all why Gerrard was struck down."
"Hmm." Patience frowned. "I'll ask him if he's remembered anything more about what he saw before he was hit."
Vane nodded absently. "Unfortunately, none of that sheds any light on our mystery. The puzzle of where the stolen goods, including Minnie's pearls, have gone darkens with every passing day."
Patience grimaced and briefly tightened her hold on his arm-simply because it seemed the right thing to do, to comfort and sympathize. "We'll just have to remain vigilant. On our guard. Something will happen." She looked up and met Vane's eyes. "It has to."
There was no arguing with that. Vane slid his free hand over her fingers, anchoring her hand on his sleeve.
They walked for some minutes in silence, then Vane glanced at Patience's face. "Are you excited by the prospect of Honoria's ball?"
"Indeed." Patience glanced fleetingly up at him. "I understand it
's an honor to be invited. As you saw, Mrs. Chadwick and Angela are in alt. I can only hope awe is sufficient to overcome Henry. Edmond, however, will remain unimpressed. I'm sure he'll come.ibut I doubt even a ducal ball has sufficient weight to puncture his self-assurance."
Vane made a mental note to mention that to Honoria.
Patience glanced up at him, a frown in her eyes. "Will you be there?"
Vane raised his brows. "When Honoria issues a summons, we all fall in."
"You do?"
"She's Devil's duchess." When Patience's puzzled frown persisted; Vane elaborated: "He's the head of the family."
Looking ahead, Patience mouthed an "Oh." She was clearly still puzzled.
Vane's lips twisted wryly.
"There were two other ladies in the carriage with Honoria when she stopped to invite us." Patience looked at Vane. "I think they were Cynsters, too."
Vane kept his expression impassive. "What did they look like?"
"They were older. One was dark and spoke with a French accent. She was introduced as the Dowager."
"Helena, Dowager Duchess of St. Ives-Devil's mother." His other godmother.
Patience nodded. "The other was brown-haired, tall, and stately-a Lady Horatia Cynster."
Vane's expression turned grim. "My mother."
"Oh." Patience glanced his way. "Both your mother and the Dowager were… very kind." She looked ahead. "I didn't realize. All three-Honoria and the other two ladies-seemed very close."
"They are." Resignation rang in Vane's tone. "Very close. The whole family's very close."
Mouthing another "Oh," Patience looked ahead again.
Glancing sidelong, Vane studied her profile, and wondered what she'd made of his mother-and what his mother had made of her. Not that he anticipated any resistance on that front. His mother would welcome his chosen bride with open arms. And a great deal of otherwise classified information and far-too-insightful advice. Within the Cynster clan, that was the way things were done.
A deep requirement, a need, for commitment to family, formed, he was now sure, part of Patience's bulwark, one part of the hurdle that stood between her and marriage. That was one element of her problem he barely needed to take aim at-all he needed to do was introduce her to his family to blow that part of her problem away.
Despite the sacrifices it demanded of him, St. Ives House next Tuesday night was definitely the right address to send her to. After she saw the Cynsters all together, in their natural setting, she would rest easy on that score.
She would see, and believe, that he cared about family. And then…
Unconsciously, his fingers tightened about hers; Patience looked up inquiringly.
Vane smiled-wolfishly. "Just dreaming."