“Perhaps you might tell me what it is you do de—”
She glared through the branches. “Did you truly push my son into bankruptcy?”
Mark stared, blinking at her. Definitely not the greeting he had expected. Especially after their last encounter at the theater. “I do not think that—”
“It is a rather simple question, my lord. A yes or no should do nicely.”
Mark studied her a moment, then allowed his tone to match her own. “May we speak without the bloody tree between us?”
Her chin rose and those emerald eyes flashed. Then she set the lemonade down in the tree’s pot, stepped from behind it, and faced him. “Is this to your satisfaction, my lord?”
Mark shifted, trying to ease some of the discomfort in his chest, and winced. Judith’s face mirrored the wince fora moment, then hardened again, even as her voice softened. “Would it not be better for you to sit?”
“In a moment. For me to sit next to you would create more difficulties for me than the pain is.”
Her mouth jerked. “Your mother still has no fondness for me?”
“A generous way of putting it, but you are correct.”
“Then we should conclude this as rapidly as possible so you can return to her side. Please answer my question. Are you the one pushing my family toward the brink of ruin? It is what I have been told.”
Mark hesitated, his mind roiling through a half dozen answers, all of which would lead to more questions than could be answered on a dance floor. “I suspect Edmund has also led you to believe the situation is more simplistic than it actually is.”
“Is that a yes?”
“No. It is not. The only person truly responsible for the current predicament is Edmund himself. But there are others involved whose advice to him has been less than well intentioned.”
“Does that include you?”
“Not precisely. What did Lord Blackwell tell you?”
“That I should speak with you. However little good that is doing at the moment.”
“Does that not convince you that this is not a simple situation?”
Judith let out a long sigh and clutched her hands together in front of her, as if she were trying to avoid hitting him. “Not since you are talking in circles.”
“May I call on you?”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“A lot of elements are at play, more than I can detail on a Society dance floor, some of which I only discovered recentlymyself. And I greatly desire that you understand everything fully. May I call on you at a time when Edmund will not be in the house?”
Recognition seemed to register in her eyes, and Judith glanced around. Yet another young man approached from the far side of the room, and Mark resisted emitting a low snarl.
She straightened her shoulders. “I would suggest neutral territory.”
Probably a good idea, especially if she truly wishes to hit me.“Any suggestions?”
She looked him up and down as if evaluating a lame horse. “I suspect you are not up for a stroll in the park.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Hardly.”
“Storey’s Gate. St. James.”
“Still a park.”
Her mouth twisted. “Meet me there. There is a tearoom down the street, suitable for women but without the gossipy crowds of Gunter’s. They have some private alcoves for quieter discussions.”
