“And don’t think I don’t know you’re simply trying to change the subject,” Meredith continued, still smiling at him.
“Me?” He pointed at his chest. “Never.” She knew him too well.
Meredith laughed, and the sound rolled over him like sunlight glancing off the top of a pond on a bright morning. Meredith’s laugh was the best sound in the world. The memory of it had kept him sane during some dark, dark days.
“Yes, well, the fact is that your incorrigible little sister has apparently decided to become the de facto leader of the wallflowers against a particularly nasty chit named Lady Mary Costner. Seems she’s more interested in that at the moment than husband-hunting.”
While Griffin frowned, Meredith briefly recapped what Gemma had told her.
“Let me see if I have the right of it. Lady Mary threatened them with…spreading rumors?” Griffin asked after Meredith finished.
“Apparently.” Meredith sighed.
“And Gemma has vowed not to stand for it?” Griffincontinued as he grabbed two champagne flutes off the tray of a passing footman. He handed one to Meredith.
“Yes.”
“Well done, Gemma.” Griffin proudly lifted his champagne glass in the semblance of a toast to his sister. “Of course, Gemma’s not intimidated by that girl. She’s a Southbury.”
Meredith took a sip from her flute. “I’m worried she’ll do something impetuous.”
“Like we did when we were her age?” Griffin drawled, catching Meredith’s eyes and holding her gaze.
“Precisely like we did when we were her age,” Meredith replied, lifting her brows and returning Griffin’s gaze with a sly smile.
Griffin shook his head. “I’m not worried. Gemma is clever. She won’t do anything to ruin her reputation. Though I must say, it all sounds like a lot of dramatic nonsense to me, but what do I know about the marriage mart?” He sighed.
“Precisely,” Meredith replied with that firm nod. “Which is why I intend to help you find a suitable bride.”
“Must you?” Griffin asked smoothly as he brought his champagne glass to his lips again. He knew Meredith well enough to know that she would not take no for an answer. Not easily at least. Which is why he had a plan.
Meredith took charge of things like a general on a battlefield. There was only one way to handle her. By catching her off guard. The element of surprise was required. Fortunately, Griffin had had several days to contemplate his strategy. He was fully prepared.
“Of course I must.” Meredith was already surveying the large group of supposed wallflowers, obviously in an attempt to find the best of the Season’s young ladies.
“Lady Hannah Hartley is lovely,” Meredith began, liftingher chin toward a petite blonde young woman wrapped in a mess of pink chiffon.
“Mmm,” was Griffin’s only reply as he took another sip from his glass.
“Miss Eagerton is quite accomplished. But I fear her name is too accurate, as she seems to be staring at you already.”
“Hmm,” Griffin replied with long-practiced nonchalance. He didn’t return Miss Eagerton’s stare.
“Miss Barton is very pretty, and I’ve heard she’s a quick wit. A good choice for you.”
“I do like a woman with a quick wit,” Griffin replied, the edge of his mouth quirking up.
“And I should like it too. We don’t want anyone who isn’t witty.”
“We?” He drew out the word, arching a brow.
“Yes. You don’t expect me to stop being your friend just because you marry. I must ensure your bride is someone I will enjoy spending time with as well.”
Griffin nearly laughed aloud at that, while Meredith continued her narrow-eyed assessment of the ballroom’s female occupants.
“You’re wasting your time, Mere,” he finally said, scrubbing his hand through the back of his hair.
“I am not. This is the perfect place to find your duchess and you know it.” Meredith lifted on her tiptoes as if to get a better look at the debutantes. “Lady Mary Costner is obviously not to be considered.”
