Roses and Flames

Chapter 9

There was really nothing more to say. She had all but dismissed him, with her promise not to meddle in his affairs. Yet Patrick was loathe to take leave of her. When would he get a chance just to sit at her side, as they always used to? She was examining the box that held the spy glass, as though it were answer to some mystery.

And he was watching her hands carress it. Had they been so graceful when he had last seen them? But then again, the Lady of the House of Wentworth was still alive and Lord Wentworth was more miffed and worried about Anastasia than Ambrosia.

Patrick could remember the ragged nails and the stubby fingers from too much time running wild with him. Today, she had not bothered with the gloves and he could see the elegant taper that rested on each digit that rested on the wood. He could sit there happily, staring at those hands for the rest of his life.

“This is where I find you? In the garden, flirting with another. I swear, Ambrosia, you are harder to catch than a wild hare. I cannot leave you alone for a moment or you shall get away from me.”

The words came from behind them and Patrick flinched as he guessed the identity of the intruder. The voice marked the end of any privacy they might have this afternoon. Or possibly forever, assuming the duke had any brains. If Patrick, had been Ambrosia’s intended then he would have never allowed her in the presence or proximity of another man ever again. He rose and turned to greet his new found enemy face to face.

If Patrick had been called to give a professional opinion on the man approaching them, he would have proclaimed as one of the healthiest man he had ever seen. Under his expensive clothing, the Duke’s form was symmetrical. There was not one ounce of fat and no sign of that perfection was achieved under any kind of padding or cinching. His limbs and spine were straight, his muscles well developed---skin, teeth, eyes, hair, all, clean, clear, shining with vigour. Likewise there were no wrinkles on his brow, of age or care, and no evidence in expression of anything but good humour. His gaze was benevolent intelligence, his step firm and confident.

If Patrick had been forced to express an opinion of another man’s looks, he would have called this one exceptionally handsome. From the toe of his boot to the top of the head, the fellow was the perfection of English manhood.

It made Patrick even more conscious of how he must look in comparison. Lord Wentworth might think of him a threat to Ambrose’s happiness. But with his worn blue coat, thin purse and modest future, a duke would hardly notice him. Unless, Ambrosia had grown to be as foolish as she was beautiful, she would have no trouble in choosing the better man.

As if to prove his point, Ambrosia rose as well and held out her hands to the Duke. She smiled warmly and greeted him with genuine affection.” Duke of Mayburry.”

“My dear.” He took her hands and held them for a moment and Patrick felt the uncomfortable prickling of jealousy and the punishment of being forgotten. She was pulling the other man by hand, just as she had lured Patrick to sit with her in the garden. It was yet another proof that the communion had felt between them was nothing more than the warmth that she showed all living things.

Now she was smiling back at him with proper sisterly pride.” I have waited long to introduce the two of you, and now I have my opportunity. Your Grace, may I present to you, Dr. Patrick Hastings.”

“The one of whom you speak so fondly. And so often.” There was a fractional pause between the two sentences as if to indicate jealousy, or perhaps the envy of attention paid to him.

“Your Grace!” Patrick bowed, giving the peer the required amount of respect.

The Duke was watching him in silence and Patrick was sure, if they had shared something as egalitarian as a handshake, it would have become a test of strength. In it, Duke would have felt the roughness of his hand and the calluses on his hands made by a firm grip on a bone saw, then he would have been dismissed as not quite a gentleman.

“Doctor Hastings.” But it had not taken something so common as a physical contact to do that. The less than noble honorific had been enough. The duke’s frosty demeanour thawed into a handsome smile. Now that he had assured him of Patrick’s inferiority. Then the Duke gave Ambrosia another fond smile. “ I have been quite looking forwards to meeting this paragon you have been describing to me. I swear your face fairly lights up when you speak of him.”

“Because he is my oldest and dearest friend,” Ambrosia said dutifully.” We were raised together.”

As brother and sister. Why would she never say it? It would make life so much easier if she would understand the significance of that.

“We spent very little time apart until he went to the university,” she added.

“To be a leech,” said the Duke and it made Patrick feel like a parasite.

“A physician,” corrected Ambrosia, protective of his dignity.” He was ever so clever when we took lessons together. Good at maths and languages and fascinated by the workings of the body and all things natural. Pat is a born philosopher. I am sure that he is the most wonderful at a job.”

“And you have not seen him all these years,” the duke reminded her.” I shall try not to be too jealous of your obvious affection for him.” Then he stated the obvious, so that there might be no confusion.” If Dr. Hastings has not come back to sweep you up before now, the man has quite missed his chance.”

“I suppose he has,” Ambrosia answered. She sounded unconcerned, but Patrick suspected the words were a goad to action.

“Suppose?” the Duke laughed again, willing to pretend that she has been joking.” Hat is not clearly as confident as I wish you to be. Do you expect us to duel for you? I will call him out and we will see who is the better.”

This too was more joke than threat.

“Do not talk nonsense,” Ambrosia said hurriedly.” I would think you both are very foolish if you fought over me.”

“If it displeases you, then I shall not attempt it. He is a military man after all. It would be even worse should Dr. Hastings prove skilled enough to defeat me with a pistol.” The duke smiled at Patrick, as though inviting him to join in the fun and prove that he had no feelings for her at all.

“With my luck I would end with a ball in my shoulder that would have to be removed by the man who put it there. He would be doubly the hero and I would lose you twice as fast.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Ambrosia repeated.

“Nor do you,” said the Duke as he reminded her softly and kissed her on the forehead.

There was no passion in it. It was delivered almost as a benediction. But Patrick saw it for what it was. Even if there had been no public announcement, the woman between them was spoken for. In response, Patrick gave the Duke the slightest nod to prove that the message was understood.

Ambrosia paid no more attention to the kiss than she would have to any other salute. But she was staring at the duke with the same teasing affection that she had shown to Patrick only moments before.

“I see you have arrived empty handed again.”

Rather than chide her for her greediness, Samuel the duke, laughed as though it was another old joke between then. “ I know better than that my dear. I know that you would definitely send me packing if I came to visit you without any sort of gift.”

Once again, Patrick cursed himself for not being able to say those words to her himself. But it might ease his jealousy if the duke had brought something for his Ambrose which was completely unsuitable to her.

It appeared that it was not to be the case. The bulging pocket of his coat trembled slightly, though the duke did not move an inch.

“What is it?” Ambrosia asked, eyeing the lump suspiciously with curiosity.” Give it to me this instant. It does not appear to be very happy where is it.”

“And that is why I brought it to you. I am sure that it will be much happier, in your care.” He reached two fingers into his coat and withdrew a sniffling ginger kitten, placing it gently in Ambrose’s lap.

“Oh Samuel.” Instantly captivated, she set Patrick’s spyglass aside and scooped the little thing so she could look at it eye to eye. It blinked back at her, before letting out a nervous mewl and settling down into the hollow of her hand. She stroked its head and nuzzled its cheek, smiling.” It is too perfect.”

And Patrick had to admit that like the telescope, it held her attention in a way that a necklace never could. But unlike Patrick’s good luck in finding something suitable in his pocket, the duke had already learned the preferences and planned in advance for this surprise.

She rewarded him with a smile so warm that Patrick could swear that he saw the duke colour with humble pleasure. It was sickening.

Could not this interloper had behaved like the peer he was, pompous and demanding, blustering into the sacred space and defiling it so that Patrick might hate him in good conscience? Could he have been slightlu less imposing physical specimen, with the beginnings of a paunch or some spot, or blemish?

Instead he continued to be perfect. And he was looking down at Ambrosia and the kitten as though he had never seen a lovelier sight.

“What shall I call you, little one?” She held it up again, staring into the grave green eyes.” Something to suit your nature, for I am sure that you shall be a great hunter when you are old enough. Orion, perhaps.”

The duke cleared his throat and then said,” I suppose that Diana would be more appropriate.”

He was educated as well? A cursory knowledge of mythology and feline anatomy was not the indication of a genius but it at least proved that he was not some kind of inbred dolt.

Ambrosia turned the kitten in her hands and then gave the underside a second look.” I think you are right.’ Then she turned up and kissed it upon the head by the way of a christening.” Diana it is. And you shall have a run of the garden, a bowl of cream, and when you have lost your milk teeth, you shall have all the mice that you can eat.”

“You will spoil it horribly,” Patrick said, trying to be the gruff and grumbling older brother.

Ambrosia gave him a disgusting look.” It is not possible to spoil a thing by giving it too much affection. If I coddle her a bit, I am sure that she will only do her job better. You could learn by that and not neglect your family for years at a time.”

Then she smiled again at the kitten and the man who had given it to her.