ReinReunion

From IMiA

It is perhaps midway through the ball, after she has danced with her brother, the Duke of Karm, Delia's fiance and perhaps three or four others, that Patrice sees Lord Rein across the ballroom. Perhaps he had arrived late; perhaps her friends had conspired to keep them apart. But now she has caught sight of him, standing by Flora's lovely champagne fountain, and finds her feet inexorably leading her that way.

To Rein's eyes, Patrice has changed very little since the days of their youth. She still favors the deep burgundy that sets off the color of her skin and eyes and her dark hair. She still prefers simple styles in clothing and jewelry, even if she's less daring in the cut--or perhaps that's her couturier. And she's still wearing the small, simple gold locket, although it's been restrung as a bracelet charm that would look out of place on a fashionable young miss and but only looks like herself on her.

When she gets close enough for him to hear her over the music and the chatter, she says a single word in a voice that probably surprises Rein with its softness and uncertainty and surprises its owner with its strength. "Tom?"

Rein turns and the surprise is evident in his eyes. "Patrice! I had no idea you were here. Gods, but it's good to see you." His smile is warm and friendly.

"I came back in for Carnival. A sort of last-minute thing. I'm staying with Phillip and his wife--you know her of course--of course, you know everyone now, I heard about it when Oberon appointed you--and my friend Delia Heacroix is staying there too, she's about to marry Petucio Chantris--" And Patrice snaps her mouth shut.

"I'm babbling. Let's try this again. I'm so glad to see you, Tom." She extends both hands to him.

Rein starts to take Patrice's hands in his and instead hugs her. "The hell with formality," he whispers. "You have been missed."

Then, he pulls back and studies her. "You are as lovely as ever. I'm glad you are here."

Patrice is grinning and her eyes are bright. Her lashes are webbed with happy tears. "I'm so glad to be here, Tom. And look at you! I'd ask how you've been, but it's obvious that Court suits you."

"Thank you. The Court has suffered in your absence you know. Hopefully, that absence is now ended and you will remain."

"I plan to. Phillip has been trying to lure me to the city since our father died, and it just hasn't come together until now. The estate has required a lot of attention, beyond what Paulus can offer. It's taken all this time to settle things for Mother." Patrice blinks, and a fat tear rolls down her cheek. She catches it with a gloved finger.

Rein doesn't have to read very far between the lines to understand that Patrice doesn't just mean the finances, nor how difficult the last two years have been.

Rein reaches out and takes her hands in his own and gives them a gentle comforting squeeze.

She squeezes back and changes the subject. "I'm opening a gallery to display the works of some of the artists I've been shepherding. I'll be sending round the formal invitations in a day or two, but a number of people have said they'll come already. I hope you will too."

After a moment, she adds, "The Duke will be there." [Karm, not Phillip.]

"You have but to ask a thing of me, milady, and you know it will be done," Rein says with a smile. "Of course, I shall be there."

Rein looks in the direction of Karm. "I am certain the Duke is glad you are here. He has missed you too, you know."

"I know. I've missed him too. He's a dear man." Patrice's gaze follows Rein's, and she smiles fondly at the Duke. "I'm commissioning a storybook for Edith's little boy. An adventure tale. I had thought to commission the art, but I haven't asked anyone yet. I was waiting until I found someone to write it." She looks back at Rein and gives him the old I-have-a-plan grin.

"Have you found anyone yet?" Rein asks innocently.

Patrice matches his tone. "Oh, I reckon I could lay a hand on a good candidate."

"I am certain you could," he smiles, "for who could deny you anything?"

Patrice laughs. "You'd be surprised. But I only know a few published authors and some of them don't write suitable fare for five-year-olds. The Duke warned me against Oisenmouth's idea of suitable literary virtue--not that *I've* read _Two Gentlemen_" she mock-protests, pressing one hand to her breastbone "--but I wouldn't want to corrupt the poor lad."

"The future Duke is a bit young," Rein agrees with a smile.

As they talk, Rein procures drinks and offers one to Patrice.

Patrice unbuttons the mousquetaire wrist opening of her opera-length glove and slips her hand out before she takes the drink.

"If you wish, i can give the matter some thought. You know, of course, that any thing i can do for you is yours for the asking."

Her smile fades. "Oh, Tom, be careful what you say. Working together on a storybook for the Duke's grandson is one thing, but--do you see it? What's happening? When the Duke and I spoke at Phil's wife's dinner party, Eric and Bleys were watching like vultures over a wounded fox. They want to know where he's going to fall when he finally comes off the fence. You and Edith and I are the last ones left that he might listen to. Don't let your gallantry get you in too much trouble. Promise me that."

"I can only promise to try, m'lady," he says with a slight bow. 'I am uncertain what my council would be worth though. My loyalties were known of old, but no longer matter. Now, I serve the King and avoid squabbles among his children as best I can."

"None of us at court can avoid that any longer. With Oberon away, it's only a matter of time until the factions come to more or less open blows. Do you remember when Osbert and, and, your brother and I faced down Lord Lovat and his cronies and Dickie damn well near cut off Lovat's hand? I saw Lovat earlier this evening." Patrice stops speaking for a moment and looks around for Lovat. Not catching sight of him on a quick scan around the room, she turns her attention back to Rein. "He looked at me and I could tell he hasn't forgotten. He'll stand high in Eric's favor now.

"It's going to be like that again, Tom. Blood's going to run in the street before this is over, and it takes no oneiromancy or cartomancy to see it."

Rein nods. "Then let us hope that it is but brief strife and that we and all we love avoid the knife."

He sips his drink then and smiles again. 'Enough of this. I would not have you fret over such dark matters on such a festive occasion as Her Highness' Carnival Ball and the reunion of such as we. What must i do to make you smile and laugh again, m'lady?"

Patrice wrestles her expression back under control. "I'm easy to please. Say you'll write Edith's little lad's book, and I'll paint the pictures, and I'll smile for you, Tom."

Rein smiles. "How soon would you like it, m'lady? And would you like me to write it and then deliver it to you or would you prefer to collaborate throughout the process?"

Patrice considers her answer. "Let's work on it together."

"I shall enjoy that."

After a moment, she adds, "I need to find a townhouse of my own: I'm staying with Phillip for Carnival, but I can't stay there indefinitely, especially not if I want a studio. And I do. I have the gallery, but that's for displaying other people's works, not for me to paint. Now that I've decided to get my hands dirty with this book project, I need to do that sooner rather than later."

"I am certain your brother's wife will have plenty of advice on that subject. Should you desire a respite from that, I would be glad to help you with that project as well."

"It could be worse. It could be--" Patrice decides not to finish that sentence, and instead takes a sip of her wine.

"I think you and Phillip have a better idea of my taste than my good-sister. If you have the time ... let us say that we'll have recitals the way we used to, and that I need your advice to find a room with excellent acoustics." She grins.

"I shall be happy to assist on your noble quest, m'lady."

"And I shall be very glad to have your assistance."

-- Main.GingerStampley - 22 Apr 2005