“He meant Lady Gardenia,” Reed said.
“But he only said the Duke of Crossings’ daughter. Do you think he’ll honor his agreement so long as you give him a good story?”
Helton, an earl, likely would. “It wouldn’t be honorable on my part,” Reed pointed out. “There has to be some other way.”
Caroline leaned back, squeezing her knees nearly to her chin. “Unless Lady Gardenia makes an unlikely appearance, Reed, we’re stumped.”
“There has to be something,” he insisted.
“Well,” Caroline held his gaze. “It’s not as though any of us have bosom buddies here in Mayfair who can tell us where Lady Gardenia is. Even if we did, we’re supposed to be in mourning. And the rumor needs squashed. West and that publisher fellow don’t seem the sort to exaggerate something like this. They’ve spent far more time in town than any of us, and no doubt understand better how these matters play out.”
Reed huffed. He hated when his sister made sense.
“And,” Caroline continued. “With plan ‘A’ having failed, plan ‘B’ is your only choice. I don’t want to see you in Newgate, brother.” Her sad smile tugged at Reed's heart.
“Plan ‘B,’ I take it, being Lady Marigold?” He couldn’t believe he was contemplating this. “You really think she’ll be willing to help me?”
“More than that, I think she’ll be thrilled to marry you. Simply ask her. With Lady Gardenia on the marriage mart again this spring, and a father like the Duke of Crossings, the poor girl lacks options.”
Reed frowned as he considered the young woman he’d met with earlier that morning. She’d been sweet and pretty and…
Lush.
“I don’t know why you’d say she lacks options.”
“She’s pretty enough,” Caroline conceded. “But on all other counts, she pales in comparison to her sister.”
“How so?” Women baffled him at times.
“She’s the second daughter. And lacking her sister’s beauty and refinement, I’d wager a year’s allowance that all her future holds is a lifetime catering to her mother.” Caroline cocked a brow. “You do remember the duchess, don’t you?”
Reed did, in fact, recall how demanding the woman was.
“Poor Lady Marigold simply isn’t… marriage material. I like her. She’s intelligent. But she is just not at all a typical debutante.”
Which, Reed thought, was the highest of compliments.
Damn, Caroline could almost convince him that he’d be doing the poor girl a favor.
“If I can’t get information on Lady Gardenia’s whereabouts, I’ll run the idea past West,” he said. “Tomorrow.”
“It’s not as though you have many other options, Reed.” Caroline shrugged. “Or much time. Besides, it’ll be easy. Trust me.”
Monday
After a restless night’s sleep, with the sun not quite yet risen, Reed knew the best place to find his friend would be on Rotten Row. He was not disappointed.
By the time he arrived at the park, familiar faces, along with a handful of other gents, were already racing up and down the Row. West was on the largest stallion of them all.
After sprinting past Reed on his giant of a horse, West then pulled the powerful animal to a halt and turned to walk back.
Reed waved as his old friend approached. “Where’d you find this extraordinary animal?” Reed studied Westcliff’s mount, who stood at least two hands higher than his own. “Impressive,” he said.
“This is Bard, one of the latest from Winterhope’s stables.”
“If the marquess has others like this one, his stables must be as good as they’re rumored to be.”
Reed appreciated discussing something—anything—other than his current troubles. But he only allowed himself a few minutes.
