“Yes,” said Fletcher. “But you ended that a year ago.”
“There was the Countess of Lefcourt,” said Lark.
Owen waved his hand. “That was only a night or two. Lady Lefcourt does not bed a man more than twice.”
“Do you say this from experience?” asked Fletcher.
Owen shrugged, which Hugh interpreted to mean he had.
“I suppose what I’m asking,” said Hugh, “is thatwereI to marry, imaginatively speaking, would I worry much over the future duchess’s reputation.”
“You might,” said Lark. “Your mother would care more.”
“Do I worry over my mother’s opinions?”
“Yes,” all three of Hugh’s friends said in unison.
“It’s curious that this should be the case when I can scarcely remember what she looks like.”
“Your mother dominates British society these days,” said Lark. “Her influence can destroy and rehabilitate reputations, and she exercises that power with skill and precision. But she is very particular about who she helps and who she puts out of favor, and her orders are generally followed, even by you, despite the fact you are twice her weight and a powerful man in your own right.”
“She scares me,” said Owen.
Lark laughed. “She can be intimidating, that is true. She tried to come with us this morning, but I wanted to be able to candidly answer your questions without her here. There are some things a mother does not need to know.”
“I should like to see her soon,” Hugh said.
In the distance he heard someone wrap on the front door and the creak of Wilton opening it. He wondered where Adele had gone off to. The men continued to speak, mostly about their families, and then all at once, Adele returned with Cook and several trays of refreshments and Wilton escorted in Dr. Willis.
“I am glad to see you, doctor,” said Adele. “Thank you for coming. I hope you can help us come up with a plan for reintroducing His Grace to society.”
“Yes, I got your letter. The Duke of Swynford. I never would have guessed.”
Lark stood and introduced himself to the doctor. “I was concerned about taking him home because it is now publicly known that he is missing, and I worried the horde would descend once it became known he was back home. That would be overwhelming.”
“It would, yes,” said Dr. Willis. “But I also read about a case like Swynford’s in which a woman was reintroduced to her bedroom and her memory returned quite swiftly. So I think it behooves us to get His Grace home.”
“Perhaps we can sneak him into the house,” said Adele.
“Or,” said Fletcher, “we could let it be known that Hugh was ill and recovering at his country home and had merely been a careless aristocrat and failed to inform his family and friends.”
“That’s good,” said Lark. “I like it.”
Hugh glanced at Adele, who looked troubled. He understood why. Perhaps in his former life he would not have grown so attached to a woman, but he hated to leave this one now. He said, “That is a clever idea, but there is still one other issue. We still do not know who hit me on the head to begin with. He may still be lurking about in Mayfair.”
Lark frowned. “Perhaps you can hire a body man.”
Hugh groaned. “Just what I need is a guard to interfere with my privacy all day long.”
“You can’t hide here forever,” said Fletcher.
“I think it advisable for you to return home,” said Dr. Willis.
“We can help,” said Lark.
Hugh turned to Adele and was about to ask her thoughts when she said, “If it will help you recover your memories, I think it is the best course of action.” She turned to Lark. “He does not have much in the way of possessions. Really just the clothing he came here with. If he had anything else on his person when you last saw him, whoever abducted him has stolen it.”
Lark nodded. “His signet ring, of course. Hugh sometimes carries a silver money clip his father gave him. I do not know if he had it on him the night of the Rutherford ball.”
