“If he weren’t so efficient and easy on the eye, I’d advise you to sack him and hire a more biddable butler, Greystone,” Iris said.
Greys bit back a grin. “Best butler I’ve ever had.”
“Your future Marchioness might beg to differ.” Iris pursed her lips. “Which brings me around to inform you that you’ll have an opportunity to pay your addresses to Lady Isabella this evening. Such a lovely young woman.”
“Posy will have plenty of company her age then,” Greys responded without committing to initiating anything with Lady Isabella that night. He should never have informed his aunt of his intentions—not, at least, until he was prepared to act on them.
Forty minutes later, Greys wondered if he ought to have feigned a megrim himself.
Not a minute after Iris, Violet, Posy, and he were ushered into Chaswick’s front drawing room, Lord and Lady Huntly pounced with Lady Isabella dutifully in tow. Greys required all his diplomatic efforts to extricate himself to offer the guests of honor his congratulations.
Stone Spencer, the second son of the Earl of Ravensdale, had surprised every member of theTonby marrying Lady Chaswick’s younger sister: a young woman who’d been utterly transparent at the onset of the Season that she would only marry a duke.
But damned if the two of them didn’t appeared utterly delighted with the unexpected turn of events.
“We’re only in town for a few days,” Spencer was quick to inform him. “My bride and I have decided to extend our honeymoon throughout the summer. So, after my mother’s ball next week, we’ll be heading down to Brighten to see how Peter’s doing and then perhaps travel along the coast.”
“Was this Mrs. Spencer’s idea?” Such levels of besottedness mystified Greys. He’d never expected any of these men to fall so completely in love with the women they married. And despite his cynicism, he couldn’t help but believe their unions would be happy ones.
He hoped, anyhow, for all their sakes.
“Not Mrs. Spencer.” Spencer shook his head. “I might think you were referring to my mother. My wife isLadyTabetha Spencer.”
“But not a duchess,” Greys pointed out.
“Thank God.” Spencer laughed, but then his expression softened when he caught his wife’s gaze from across the room even as a few other familiar faces approached to offer the newly hitched gentleman their congratulations. Greys greeted the newcomer and then excused himself.
What with Westerley, Chase, Stone, and even Mantis caught up in wedded bliss, Greys ought to feel perfectly comfortable in his own decision to marry.
And yet, he didn’t.
Nor was he in any hurry to.
Greys glanced across the room to where Miss Diana, Miss Jones, Posy, and Lady Isabella clustered around one another giggling, and he felt a tightening in his chest.
As though sensing his regard, Miss Diana cast her gaze in his direction and caught him staring. The upward tilt of her mouth had him remembering the moment she’d asked him if ducks could fly, and for no reason at all, his chest loosened.
If not for the shuffling at the door, he might even have found himself grinning back at her foolishly.
The new arrivals, all dressed in military colors, were welcomed by their host and hostess and, after graciously accepting drinks, with far less subtlety than Greystone, turned to also observe the group of unmarried ladies.
Most notably, Miss Diana.
She blinked in confusion, and Greys recalled his duty to assist her in her husband-hunting endeavor.
If she forgot what they’d discussed and she threw herself at Captain Edgeworth tonight, she’d undo all their good work from earlier that afternoon.
Before she could muck her prospects up, Greys set his drink aside and crossed the room. As he interrupted the feminine gathering, Lady Isabella curtseyed with a simper, Posy rolled her eyes, and the elder Miss Jones sent her younger sister a curious stare.
He greeted each of them appropriately and then turned to address the lady for whom he’d promised to feign affection. “A moment of your time, Miss Diana?”
Four sets of finely arched brows rose simultaneously, and then those same ladies shared furtive glances. Greys fingered the lace at his wrists as he awaited Miss Diana’s response. He hated that Lady Isabella looked hurt by his request, but… He would offset her displeasure in due time—after he ensured Chaswick’s sister was settled with her military gent.
He couldn’t very well court one lady while pretending to court another, could he? Curses on his Aunt Iris.
“Certainly, my lord.” A pink flushed her cheeks, and for no identifiable reason, Greys enjoyed the effect.
He offered his elbow and led her to the far corner of the room. She craned her neck in the soldier’s direction. “Don’t stare after him,” Greys whispered near her ear as he escorted her away from the door.
