“What did she say?”Anna leaned forward.
“She said, if there’s a scandal, everyone will assume.It’s a sort of protection for our family.”
Anna blinked.“That’s rather diabolical.”
“That’s my mother,” Pere replied dryly.
“Well…” Anna bit her lip.“He is a well-known rake.”
“Of the worst sort.”
“But honorable in the sense that he’s not one to go after debutantes.”
“Just anything else in a skirt.”
“Fair.But your mother wouldn’t see you as a risk, so I suppose I can see her reasoning…”
“You’re giving her more credit than I am.I think she’s daft.What’s dafter is that he accepted.He was one of the first to do so.”She shook her head in confusion.
“I… don’t know what to say.”
“Nor do I, other than this will be interesting.”
“I didn’t once think it wouldn’t be!Wow.Lord Hawthorne.Heisrather dashing, in that dangerous,this is not going to end wellway,” Anna speculated.
“Yes, that’s certainly true.I think Edwin is friends, or at least acquaintances, with him—they spent time at Eton together.”
“Interesting,” Anna mused, uncertain what to make of that.Lord Hawthorne wasn’t the type to have friends who didn’t share his sentiments, and that gave her an odd sensation in her belly.
“There are several othereligiblegentlemen too.”Pere emphasized the word.
“Wonderful.A full week is a long time for a house party—it’s very generous of your family.”
“My mother is trying to tie up loose ends, as she puts it.”She sighed.“You’re one of them, so be aware.”
“A loose end?”Anna questioned, taking another biscuit.
“Oh, yes.You’re the only lady Edwin has pursued, and since my brother announced his intention to marry, you’re the prime candidate.So, she’s not going to miss the opportunity to make it stick.”Pere raised her teacup.“Not only have you captivated my brother, but you managed something no other woman has.”
Anna arched a brow and waited.
“You made my mother an ally in your quest.Brava!”Pere lifted her teacup.
Anna giggled and raised her cup as well, then they both took a sip.Yet the amusement faded to tension.Matchmaking was an art, full of allurements and snares.But what good was it to orchestrate a perfect way to secure Lord Devon’s promise if it was out of obligation or a perfect lure?Would that hold his affection?Would it even require him to have affection at all?More importantly, did that matter to her?Was owning his name enough, or did she want something more?
What good was his name if she lacked the one thing she wanted?His heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Henley tugged onhis jacket as he descended the stairs to the parlor where all the guests waited for dinner to be announced.The house was oppressively stuffy, but what irritated him more was the earlier conversation with his brother.Refusing to dwell on it, he focused his attention on the guests slowly gathering in the parlor.He was, after all, a host.His mother would murder him if he was anything less than welcoming and hospitable.So, with effort, he forced a passable smile onto his face and nodded to the assembling company as they awaited dinner.
“Lord Milford.”He offered a bow, then began mentally cataloguing the men in attendance—all carefully selected by his mother for Pere’s sake.However, as Henley scanned the room, his eyes landed on one face in particular, and his brow rose in curiosity.Whatever his mother had been thinking, inviting him was surprising.The Earl of Hawthorne met his gaze and lifted his glass in greeting.Henley nodded, then turned to another guest, his mind still churning with curiosity.
“Lord Dawson,” Henley greeted, appraising the gentleman near his age.A good candidate for Pere, he decided.
“Evening to you,” Dawson returned the greeting, leaning in slightly.“Dinner will be served soon, will it not?I arrived late, and I’m famished,” he confided.
Henley chuckled.“Not soon enough, but for your sake, I hope it’s quick approaching.”
