The brothers stared at their mother, then Mark slowly tilted his head to peer more closely at her. “Do you want to explain that comment?”
“I saw it last night!” She glared at Mark, gesturing at him with one hand. “The two of you. Flirting as if no one else was in the room. As if no one could see how... how inappropriate the two of you were.”
Matthew’s eyebrows arched as he looked at Mark. “What exactly did the two of you do during that quadrille?”
“The last dance was a cotillion.” Mark gave a long, weary sigh and leaned back in the chair. “Isthatwhy you took ill? To get me away from her?”
Phyllida looked at the ceiling, as if appealing to heaven for help with her clueless sons.
Matthew cleared his throat and tried to smother a grin with one hand.
“Bloody hell, Mother, I have told you I have no interest in marrying, but that does not mean I do not enjoy the company of women. I always have and I suspect I always will. I am not a monk. And given how many men the lady danced with last night, I suspect she is of the same mind. Gower kept stroking her back as if she were his favorite horse, for pity’s sake. Sculthorpe introduced us—”
“Sculthorpe? The earl?” Matthew’s expression turned curious.
“Yes. Her stepson. We have done business together, and he thought I would enjoy dancing with her. And I did. I evenlikedher, which is more than I can say about my other partners for the evening.” Mark waved his arms in front of him. “They felt completely skeletal in my arms and their heads are full of wisps. Lady Sculthorpe is a fine dancer and can converse about things other than new frocks and whether the sun will shine tomorrow. We had a pleasant evening. That is all.”
“And if she had asked you to her bedroom?” His mother’s clipped words were a clear challenge.
A challenge he gladly accepted. “I would have gone. As I said, she is an excellent dancer.”
“I see.”
He knew he should not continue, but—“With fine, strong legs and a superb round arse.” He made a cupping motion with his hands.
“Mark!”
Matthew burst out laughing, and Phyllida swatted him.
Mark stood. “I suspect it is my turn to visit White’s.”
“Mark!”
“Matthew can take you the park.”
His brother snorted. “When pigs fly.”
Mark ignored them both, leaving the receiving room and heading for the entrance hall. Near the front door, their butler Stephens waited with a chapeau and a light cloak. Mark paused, then reached for them. “Expecting rain later, are we?”
Stephens nodded. “So they say. And it is still cool.”
“You heard everything, or just expected us to head to the park?”
“The duchess does have a way about her.”
Mark coughed. “So she does.” He pulled the chapeau onto his head and draped the cloak over his arm before heading out the door. He paused briefly on the pavement, then turned toward White’s, the brisk air and his long strides easing some of the tension from his back and neck, tension that had been there throughout the night, since Edmund had insisted he meet Lady Sculthorpe. Tension that had escalated when Mark had realized his mother’s ploy to get him away from the ball had been due to his enjoyment of the short time with the dowager countess.
What was it about this woman?Edmund, whom he had met at a boxing salon years ago, before Mark had gone to war and Edmund had become an earl, seemed determined to put him in front of his stepmother, whereas Mark’s own mother seemed driven to keep him away from her.
Edmund. Matthew’s inquisitive look returned to his mind—his brother obviously thought the introduction as odd as he did. Mark again mulled over possible reasons for Edmund’s insistence on introducing his stepmother, none of which made any sense. He did know one thing—when he checked the wager book at White’s, that bet would be in Edmund’s handwriting. Handwriting that Mark knew well from the vowels he had often carried for the man. Because Edmund, for all his placid nature and upstanding moral appearance, could not resist an odd bet, the odder the better. And he frequently lost. A lot.
Sometimes more than a lot.
Could it be that simple?
Possibly.
But in this moment, Mark would lay out the stack vowels he carried from men all over the city that there was more buried in the motive behind this introduction. And the only way to eliminate the mystery entirely would be to follow his mother’s advice and stay away from Lady Sculthorpe.
