“I’m afraid you do, and I’m afraid I should mention that your jacket wouldn’t be any less bright if it was actually orange.” Cornelia straightened and shook her head. “I keep hoping Asher’s formidable fashion sense will eventually rub off on you. But since that hope is beginning to dim, you might want to consider reaching out to your friend andacceptinghis assistance. A well-dressed gentleman is far more appealing to ladies than an unusually dressed one, and you must remember that I would enjoy being presented with a few grandchildren before I’m at my last prayers.”
“You’re nowhere near to being at your last prayers, Mother. And to address your suggestion about seeking fashion advice from Asher, according to reliable sources, society ladies have recently gotten me into their matrimonial sights, unusual fashion sense or not. They, apparently, don’t seem to be bothered by pink jackets paired with ... er ... flowered trousers, so there’s no need for me to bother Asher.”
In a blink of an eye, Cornelia turned from an indulgent mother to a highly indignant one. “Society ladies are casting their attention your way?”
Harrison refused a wince. “That does seem to be the talk around the city.”
“There’stalkof you around the city, and not simply business talk?”
“How was your trip to see your sister?” Harrison asked as he took his mother’s arm and ushered her as quickly as possible across the room to where two battered chairs flanked an old wooden table. Waiting until she took a seat, not that he was allowing her much choice in the matter since he’d delivered her directly in front of the chair and helped her into it, Harrison strode over to the pot of coffee he always kept in his office and poured his mother a cup. Walking back to her, he handed over the cup and smiled expectantly.
Taking a sip, and then proving she was the best kind of mother because Harrison knew the coffee was lukewarm at best and yet she took another sip before setting the cup on the table, Cornelia raised her head.
“I won’t be distracted by your charming manners.”
“Forgive me, Mother, but I don’t believe you’re capable of becoming distracted when you’ve got something on your mind,” he said, lowing himself into the other battered chair.
“But that doesn’t stop you from trying,” Cornelia pointed out. “However, since you are a charming scamp, and I have missed you while I’ve been away, allow me to simply say that my visit with my sister was aggravating to say the least. That is why I’ve returned to the city sooner than expected.”
“Is Aunt Beatrice still of the belief you should abandon your interest in the family business and spend your days attending one social event after another?”
“Of course, but that’s not the reason I found her so taxing this visit. It was her many and vocal opinions regarding my darling girls that set my teeth on edge. She’s convinced all three of them are going to become confirmed spinsters, and she’s laying the blame for that squarely on my shoulders.”
“In all likelihood, she was just making polite conversation,” Harrison said. “You know you and your sister don’t share many interests. I imagine she believes you enjoy speaking about your daughters, which is why she must bring them into your conversations so often.”
“She believes I’m a horrible mother and have ruined all chances my daughters have of making formidable matches by not presenting them to society.” Cornelia shuddered. “One would think that after what happened to Margaret and her experience with two fortune-hunters, my sister would be more sympathetic to my desire to keep my girls firmly out of that cesspool known as the socially elite.”
“Not all society gentlemen are fortune-hunters, nor are all the ladies only interested in landing a gentleman of wealth.”
Cornelia quirked a brow. “This from a man who just admitted he’s become interesting to eligible society ladies, none of whom seem to have an issue with the fact that you possess not even a smidgen of style, but ... you do possess a far too intriguing fortune.”
Harrison raised a hand to his heart. “Now, that hurts.”
“I highly doubt that,” Cornelia said with a roll of her eyes. “But returning to the reason I’m here, it’s about—”
“Edwina,” Harrison finished for her, knowing it would be best all around if he simply owned up to the idea that he’d lost all control over the situation with his younger sister.
Unfortunately, it soon became clear his mother was not aware of that particular situation because she abandoned the cup of coffee she’d picked up again, sat forward on the chair, and pinned him with a glare that was downright terrifying.
“What about Edwina?” she demanded.
“You haven’t seen her since you’ve returned?” Harrison countered, the only plausible question that sprang to mind while his thoughts began sorting through any and all explanations that might not find him the victim of his mother’s wrath.
“You’re stalling. Out with it. What has she done now, and why, pray tell, weren’t you there to stop her?”
Harrison’s forehead furrowed. “Perhaps you have me confused with your other son, Mother. If I need remind you, I’ve never been able to stop my sisters with any of the mad schemes they’ve contemplated over the years.”
“Very funny as I don’t have another son, but ... what mad scheme is Edwina contemplating?”
“I’m afraid she’s traveled past the contemplation phase and embraced a plan of action.”
When his mother began tapping a shoe against the floor, Harrison knew there was nothing left to do but disclose all, no matter the trouble that it was certain to bring him, as well as Edwina.
“She may have decided to give society a whirl, and because she’s a most resourceful lady, a lovely trait she inherited from you...” He tossed a smile his mother’s way, not reassured when her lips pressed into a thin line and her toe-tapping increased.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, you see, she’s become acquainted with Miss Permilia Griswold, Asher’s fiancée, a lovely young woman I know you’ll adore since you adore Asher. Add in the idea that Permilia seems to be the love of Asher’s life...”
“No distractions if you please. Edwina ... society ... her resourcefulness.”
