Constance Carwick, the 'lady in blue' in question, had not yet noticed Kentamin or his gaze. Constance was busy feeling anxious. Wondering if Dwight would come back. Wondering what she would tell him, how she might be able to persuade him to leave. She was not, very intentionally, thinking about what she still had to do tonight.
But someone else had noticed Kentamin and his gaze.
The plump ( and 'plump' was quite the generous word for her) old woman clucked delightedly to herself. Nothing like young love! Well, she thought, looking twice at the young man in question. Maybe not love, not for a priest! But surely even a priest couldn't be faulted for the affections of his youth! There was no real harm in that. So she elbowed the lady next to her, of similar age but opposite appearance: she was tallish and thin and frail as a rail. A moments of whispering transpired between them before, quite pleased with themselves, they bobbed over to poor, unsuspecting Kentamin.
"All alone tonight, young lord?" the plump lady asked, barely able to contain her self-satisfied smile.
"How sad!" the thin woman agreed, "to be a handsome young man like yourself without even a partner for a dance!"
"Very sad!" the plump lady agreed. They were narrowing in on him now. Encircling him. There'd be no escape for poor Kentamin Dhelsbar! "Oh but look!" the plump lady exclaimed as if she were only just now noticing, "there is poor Lady Bryony! Also all alone, too!"
"Oh, now that's sad," thin lady said with a shake of her bird-like head, "with all the tragedy that's befallen her family, too. What a sad, sad thing for her to be left all alone. Who knows what glum thoughts she must be left with."
"Oh, I know!" said plump woman in a voice painfully staged. If they had any interest in Kentamin talking, they certainly didn't show it! "You should make her acquaintance! Surely a handsome young priest like yourself, and from a good family, surely that's just the company poor young Bryony needs!"
"Oh, what I a good idea!" thin lady agreed quickly. "I'll go get here!"
And just like that, she was off. In case Kentamin had any ideas of taking off himself, plump lady gripped vice-like onto his arm and busily told him over and over just how handsome he was! And it wasn't a moment before, like a rare flower or a prize mare or something else meant to be silent and looked over, Constance Carwick was presented to Kentamin, looking a bit startled herself at the forceful manner she'd been brought there.
And who was she being presented to! Constance's green eyes - which, with the dress and in the lighting, might pass for her cousin's blue - widened just a little when she saw Kentamin. A strange combination of anger and amusement coursed through her. Of course, they should meet like this! But Constance wasn't going to give herself away in front of the old meddling women. And maybe the templar wouldn't recognize the clean, made-up and finely-dressed young lady before him as the dirty rebel in the cave. It seemed like a stretch, but he'd proven pretty stupid so far.
So when the thin lady introduced her as Lady Bryony, Constance bobbed a curtsy and, casting her eyes shyly to the ground, said a dutiful, "M'lord."