Lord Blackwood's Valentine Ball: An Authentic Regency Romance by Arabella Sheraton

she was a bluestocking? Or was it because he could think of nothing else that would interest her?
    “Not many people know how much the park has to offer.” He waved one hand in front to indicate a sweeping vista. “It’s so large that it would take a person several days to explore.”
    She bent her head over her sketch, half-annoyed that he continued giving her a history lesson on the park and half-relieved he had picked a safe and neutral topic of conversation. Despite Lorna’s remark about him viewing her with admiration and respect, Patience wondered why he bothered to sit with her and engage in a conversation that must be intensely boring. He must be used to far more sparkling and light-hearted banter from the ladies in his social circle. Perhaps he was being kind and attentive because of his affection for Lorna.
    He indicated Lorna and Sophie laughing as they strolled with Viscount Birdwell and Captain Lyndon. “I think the viscount has developed an admiration for Miss Sutcliffe.”
    Patience glanced at Sophie’s mama, still sleeping peacefully. “It appears so. Mrs. Sutcliffe would possibly approve, but Mr. Capshaw won’t be too pleased.”
    Lord Blackwood put a hand up to shade his eyes as he stared in another direction. “Hmm. I’m not so sure about that. Mr. Capshaw appears to have found another muse. Look!”
    Patience followed the direction of his gaze. Mr. Capshaw’s gloomy expression had disappeared and he was engaged in an animated discussion with Miss Wicklow, who seemed to be as enchanted as he was by the conversation. He waved his arms in the air as if describing the proportions or mechanics of something. Nodding as he spoke, she clasped a small posy of daisies, which no doubt Mr. Capshaw had picked for her.
    Patience could not help smiling at the sudden change in affections. “My goodness. I hope they will suit.”
    “Mr. Capshaw is a very intelligent young man who can be quite likeable but for a tendency to take himself and life too seriously. He is either in the heights of ecstasy or the depths of gloom.” He sighed. “Such are the vagaries and moods of young people in love.”
    Love. Patience prayed with all her might that he would not ask her opinion on love.
    “What do you think of love, Miss Cherwell?”
    Patience felt herself go scarlet from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “I…er—” she squawked in confusion.
    “I know your dedicated care of your departed mama has sheltered you from life,” he said, “but you must have formed an opinion. Perhaps from books and poetry?”
    He cocked his head to one side, waiting to hear it. Patience quickly reassembled her scattered thoughts. He was not asking what she thought about love because he was interested in her opinion. This had something to do with Lorna, but she was not sure where the conversation was leading. Lorna had asked her to get to know him better. So what did it matter if she said the wrong thing? It did not matter at all what she said. This was about Lorna, not her.
    “I believe most fervently in love and the power of love,” she said in a firm voice. Mrs. Sutcliffe grunted, moved her arms as if she felt restless, and then sank back into sleep.
    “I mean,” said Patience in a lower tone, “that I believe love is the greatest goal for any person to aspire towards. To love and be loved in return.”
    His dazzling smile left her breathless. “Miss Cherwell, I am delighted and relieved to hear you express such a…a profound opinion on the subject.”
    Patience felt a sense of boldness creeping over her. No matter what she truly felt, she had his attention and she must do everything in her power to convince him that loving Lorna was the best thing for him. Of course, she must exercise utmost caution and tact so as not to tarnish Lorna’s reputation or discredit her in any way.
    “So you believe in love, sir?”
    He sighed. “Absolutely. I cannot conceive of any worthier goal for a man than to find and