“The new mats are to be delivered to the warehouse today. And two more boys have expressed interest in joining up.”
“Excellent.” Cornell often seemed as invested in the dock project as Mantis was. In fact, if Mantis and Felicity spent the summer at Tissinton Towers, he was going to have to hire himself a new valet.
Mantis struggled with one boot while Cornell assisted him with the other.
“Have the betrothal notices been sent to all the papers?”
“Delivered them myself.”
All that was left now was his meeting downstairs this morning. Mantis tugged at his cravat.
“I’ll only have to retie it,” Cornell’s voice halted him from loosening the knot altogether.
“Pigeon-liver’d loon.” Mantis dropped his hand. “Wish me luck.” He grimaced.
“Luck.” Cornell pinched back a smile. “You loathsome boil.” His valet was well-aware of the earl’s animosity toward Mantis.
“Addlepated pizzle.”
Cornell bit back a grin, and Mantis shook his head. Might as well get this over with.
He usually avoided the morning room this time of day, but it was as good a place as any to deliver his news.
He was marrying Lady Felicity Brightley.
Felicity.
The thought alone was enough to puff out his chest.
And yet another good sign when he nearly ran into his sister at the landing.
“My, but you look fine today. Don’t tell me you’re joining us this morning.” She leaned forward and bussed him on the cheek.
“I am.” He gestured for her to precede him down the stairs.
“I do wish you were around more often. I think Louisa might be softening him.”
Even Louisa didn’t have that kind of influence. “I don’t know how you do it, Cordy.” Only, he did. Because although their father wasn’t thrilled that his daughter towered over him, he didn’t hate her like he did his heir. “You’re looking fetching yourself.”
Mantis smiled at the pink creeping up the back of her neck. And yet, she wasn’t so easily distracted. “What’s the occasion? And don’t tell me there isn’t one because I know you better than that.” Cordelia had always had the ability to read him. And since he would be telling them all anyway, he might as well practice on her.
“I’m engaged,” he muttered.
“To be married?” She halted midway down the stairs to turn and gape at him.
“That’s what the term usually implies, yes.” But he couldn’t help smiling at her because she appeared surprised, yes, almost stunned, but also happy for him.
“Who?” She whispered and glanced around. “No doubt someone whose father is unacquainted with Crestwood.”
Even Cordelia new? “What the devil is that about anyway?”
They resumed their descent until Cordelia pulled him aside at the landing. “I only became aware a few days ago.”
Mantis scowled. “From who?”
“Father has mentioned his concerns to Miss Faraday. She’s met you, of course, so she knew them to be patently untrue. She questioned me, though, in case you had set your sights on Greystone’s younger cousin—the bouncy, curly one.”
Mantis tensed and then relaxed his shoulders. His father’s indiscretions wouldn’t affect him much longer. And whatever his reasons were would be rendered moot by his and Felicity’s engagement.
