Ford looked back down at his breakfast, but his lips twitched towards a subtle smile at the comment about Grace. Lestrange had made a good impression on her, that much was true. Ford had recognized it, too. If only the night hadn't been sullied by Noble passing out before they reached dessert. A successful dinner party where Grace had actually participated would have done wonders for her confidence... and maybe even with the way things had ended up, it had still been good for her to have that experience. Ford briefly considered that perhaps he ought to thank Lestrange for it, but that would involve telling the other man how insecure Grace was most of the time, which seemed like something he ought not to go telling people outside the family. There was no danger that Lestrange would say anything about it to anyone else, Ford thought — after last night, Ford could probably confide literally anything in him and his secrets would be safe. Cash had enough on his mind at the moment, though, without having to keep track of the collective Greengrass family anxieties.

And in a roundabout way, Grace had already repaid him for the kindness, Ford reflected. Ford had been thinking about Grace laughing at Lestrange's joke when he'd cast the patronus, and without the patronus Cash would probably have been dead by now (or if not by now, by the end of the week at least). So he supposed they were all even.

"She did," he agreed. "Maybe we can get him to come to her ball this month. It would probably do her a lot of good to have someone else she feels comfortable with there," he mused, wondering if Cash had the mental capacity to attend parties at the moment. As far as parties went, though, it was a benign one — Ford would be there, and there were no particular expectations for Lestrange. Presumably he'd been going to worse parties while feeling this way for months, and he'd managed it without incident — just with Witch Weekly picking up and commenting on his macabre sense of humor.