Meredith reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. It was one of the many things she loved about Clare. She was fabulous and fearless, the bravest woman Meredith knew. Clareshouldhave been at the Cranberrys’ ball. Sheshouldbe married and the mother of several adorable children by now. But Clare had been involved in a huge scandal the year she and Meredith had debuted. It was the reason she’d been given that awful nickname by the more horrid members of theton. The scandal—and the nickname—had even made it to the papers.
And now Clare was a twenty-seven-year-old self-proclaimed spinster, who no longer attended any Society events. Instead, Clare was stuck with her elderly mother, who, even after all these years, sniped at her only child constantly for ruining her chances. Meredith could barely stand to think of it. Her friend’s fate had been so utterly unfair. The man who’d ruined her had not faced any consequences whatsoever.
Clare and her mother were in town for a short visit. They never stayed for the entire Season. They simply did some shopping, endured gossip from those who saw them on the streets, and returned to their little enclave in the country. But Meredith looked forward to Clare’s visits. Meredith used them as an opportunity to try to persuade Clare to make an appearance in Society, which her friend always graciously declined. Of course, Meredith understood Clare’s reticence. Society was a cruel, cold place for a woman who had dared break its rules.
At least Meredith was able to see her good friend upon occasion. Meredith loved her and the two had remained steadfast friends all these years. Meredith had been Clare’s only remaining friend after her name had been tarnished.Clare was blond, with intelligent dark-brown eyes and a mischievous smile. Despite what she’d been through, Clare was still quick to laugh, and her positive demeanor was one of the many things Meredith loved about her. That and her quick wit.
Clare had left her mother at home this morning, thank heavens, and had only brought her maid along as a chaperone. The maid was down in the kitchens visiting with the other servants while the ladies talked. Which suited Meredith’s purposes just fine. There was something she wanted to tell her closest friend. The something she’d been thinking about for several weeks now. The something she dared not write in a letter.
Clare’s hearty laugh filled the room. “I’m so pleased to hear that Gemma didn’t let that awful girl ruin her evening. What else did I miss at this Season’s opening ball?” Clare asked as she took a sip from the teacup Meredith had just handed her.
Meredith waggled her eyebrows at her friend. She’d been waiting for this particular question all morning. “You’ll never believe it, butGriffinhas agreed to finally choose a bride this Season. Or I suppose I should say he’s already chosen her.”
“Pardon?” Clare’s brows shot up. “Griffin? Chose a bride? Youmustbe jesting.”
Meredith took a sip from her teacup. “I reminded him that he promised his mother that he would marry the year he turns thirty.”
“And here I was assuming that was merely something one tells one’s mother when one is not yet thirty,” Clare replied, grinning.
“Yes, well, it seems he was quite serious. And you could have knocked me over with a feather, but he told me he’s already decided who he intends to ask to marry him.”
“Who?” Clare nearly shouted as she leaned forward,obviously on tenterhooks to hear more. She popped a grape into her mouth.
“That’s just it. He refuses to tell me who she is. He is, however, allowing me to guess. Though I’ve already used my first guess and I was wrong.”
Clare’s brows drew together. “Guess? Whatever do you mean?”
Another sip of tea. “He’s given me seven chances to guess the identity of the lady of his choosing.”
Clare laughed. “Only seven? That doesn’t seem terribly wise of him. He has to know that if you fail to guess correctly, you’ll never stop nagging him about it.”
Meredith laughed. “That is true, but I should hope by the time I use up all my guesses, he’ll be properly courting this woman, and her identity shall become obvious.”
“That is curious.” Clare pursed her lips and tapped them with her fingertip. “Who do you think she is?”
“I’ve no idea, but I know she’snotAmelia Barnstaple because I guessed her name at the Cranberrys’ ball. Which means I have six guesses left.”
Clare scowled and shook her head. “I cannot picture Griffin with Amelia Barnstaple. Far too simple for him.”
“Perhaps,” Meredith allowed.
“How long has this been going on? Why hasn’t Griffin already told you about her?” Clare wanted to know.
Meredith began nodding. “Precisely what I thought when he first mentioned it. Honestly. How could he keep such news from me?”
Clare continued to tap her fingertip against her bottom lip. “Whoisshe?”
Meredith cocked her head to the side and considered the mystery lady’s identity for the thousandth time. “I honestly don’t know. In fact, I had no idea he fancied anyone. Who doyousee him with?”
A sly smile curved Clare’s lips as she picked up her teacup. “Honestly?”
Meredith blinked at her friend, studying her face. “Of course.”
Clare lifted one shoulder in the semblance of a shrug. “I’ve always pictured him withyou, Mere.”
Meredith nearly dropped her teacup into her lap. She fumbled with placing it on the tabletop in front of her. “Me?”
Clare sipped her tea. “You two are together all the time. Thick as thieves.”
