Grey all but stopped breathing. So. She knew. The woman’s eyes were sharp as sheared glass. He felt a noose tighten around his throat. The question was, did the girl know? If her blank expression was any indication, he suspected not. Which meant the real question was, should he bring it up now? Get it right out in the open to see her reaction.
He simply wasn’t sure he had the courage. He was beginning to respect the Termagant for trying to help this poor, wan girl. Priscilla Mayhew would be indescribably beautiful for the right man, all innocent, golden English beauty. But he knew without a doubt she would never bloom for him.
And yet, he couldn’t imagine a way to give her the freedom to marry that boy she loved.
“How delightful,” he responded when the mother paused for breath. “And of course you enjoy dancing, Miss Mayhew?” he asked, just to shut the woman up. “You will, of course, be at the Halverson ball tomorrow. Might I reserve a dance?”
Given a chance, he suspected she would have told him exactly what she thought of that idea. One quick, panicked glance at her mother had her nodding her head. “Yes, my lord.”
Grey shot a desperate glance at the mantel clock to see that for the moment he was rescued. He had reached the obligatory fifteen minutes. Setting the cup and the cake back on the piecrust table at his elbow, he rose to his feet.
“I thank you for your hospitality,” he said.
The mother was on her feet. “But my lord. Don’t you wish to spend a few minutes with our Priss?”
What was it with the royalwe’slately, Grey wondered. Had he just never noticed them before? All he knew was that right now they annoyed him nearly into mayhem. He needed to getout of here before the woman standing before him had her hair pulled out.
“I fear not,” he said, casting Miss Mayhew an apologetic smile. “Responsibilities at the House of Lords, you know.”
A bit of a stretch, since he hadn’t even been invested. Instead, he very much feared he would be forced to feed Sophie and Amelia’s grandmother. Which might end up being worse than dancing with Priscilla or withstanding her mother’s siege, but Grey couldn’t leave that particular field of battle to the old harpy.
Not even old, really. Definitely a harpy.
“Thank you again,” he said with the pro forma bow, not sure whether he was relieved or newly aggrieved that his fiancée looked so relieved at his going.
It didn’t matter for the moment. The butler was waiting with his coat and hat, and the door was right there.
“Do you like dogs?” he asked suddenly, unsure why.
Both women stopped as if struck.
“Of course, she does,” the mother trilled. “Such a comfort to have a sweet companion to sit in your lap.”
His grin was genuine. “Not this one,” he said as the butler helped him into his coat. “Irish wolfhound. Comes up to my waist.”
Oh, blast. The chit was blanching again. For a moment he thought he’d have to toss hat and coat back at the butler so he could catch her. But she rallied just enough to cast her mother a terrified look.
“Of course,” her mother said, not even looking the girl’s way. “A beast like that would be kept in the stables, I’m sure.”
His smile was unpardonably satisfied. “The breakfast room. And the salon. Oh, and the kitchen, come to think of it.” Popping his hat on his head, he gave it a tap. “Ate an entire roast yesterday. Just grabbed it from the counter and ran off like a pickpocket in St. Giles.”
Now the mother blanched. The butler was manfully fighting a grin.
Grey just smiled, gave another bow, and left.
He was just beginning to feel better when he climbed into his carriage to find Braxton waiting inside for him. “For the love of all that is holy, Braxton. Do I not get a minute without you?”
“We thought you should know, my lord. The young relations’ grandmother has been delayed. Her carriage suffered a mishap to a wheel, we believe. However, Lord Drake is expecting you.”
Grey stopped. “Drake? Why? I saw Lord Finch yesterday.”
“There is new information, and possibly a need for you to leave sooner.”
“Sooner?! Good God, they already have me on my way by the end of June.”
“Our man in Paris came up missing.”
Grey shut his eyes. “Gracechurch? How?”
