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He looked over at the spot where the lady in question had been standing when he burst into the room; the only one standing, in truth.
“You say William liked her?”
Harriet smiled. “He seemed to.”
“Does she have a name?”
The old woman hesitated. “She just said her name was Marina.”
“Pardon?” Anthony raised an eyebrow.
“Admittedly, it was uncouth, but I assume she was nervous,” Harriet said quickly. “I can certainly find out who she is by the invitation list. It is an uncommon enough name.”
Anthony considered the notion. “Are we sure she is of nobility?”
“She would not have been in attendance if she was not.” Harriet gave a quiet harrumph, letting it be known she was insulted by the idea that she might allow a commoner into the selection.
Low standing, perhaps. That is of no great import. Anthony mulled over the prospect, thinking of those intense, faintly disapproving eyes. He was nothing if not curious.
And if she has few options, as my grandmother suggests, then she may well accept a marriage of convenience.
That idea pleased him very much. His son would have someone to watch him and tend to him and ‘guide him emotionally’, while Anthony’s own life would not have to change much. As with all good business, it was important to know when to delegate.
Maybe, this Marina lady could be a useful asset, an associate to the running of the family with the courtesy title of ‘wife’.
“It would not hurt to meet her properly,” he said, at last. “There is a garden party at Huntfield next Saturday. If you can furnish me with the address of this mysterious Marina, I shall request her presence.”
Whether she attends or not shall be up to her.
He did not mind either way. If she failed to appear, he would be able to fend off his grandmother’s nuptial attacks for a while longer. If she was there, then perhaps an agreement could be reached, and he would never have to worry about his son and his grandmother conspiring in such a mortifying way again.
Besides, he was curious to see those remarkable blue eyes again, if only to figure out if they had been mocking him or not.
CHAPTER THREE
“Like I told ye, I’m afraid I daenae ken her.”
Anthony leveled a perplexed stare at his good friend Malcolm Gale, the Duke of Highcastle. “How can you not know who is in your home?”
“That’s me wife’s realm of expertise,” Malcolm replied with a low chuckle. “I can fetch her for ye… if I can find her and coax her away from her friends. I cannae make any promises, though. With us being at Highcastle these past months, she’ll be loathed to step away from them.”
Malcolm and his wife, Octavia, split their time between their English country manor of Huntfield House and the estate of Highcastle in Scotland, a place blessed with the finest hunting. As such, they were often away for long stretches, depending on the season.
“Never mind,” Anthony sighed. “I shall just have to find her myself. She is memorable enough.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “I hope that’s nae what ye’re going to lead with?”
“This is not some matter of romance, Malcolm,” Anthony reminded him. “It is about getting my grandmother to leave me well alone. Trust me, if there was an easier way, I would have thought of it already.”
“And ye’re sure she’ll be here somewhere?”
Anthony shrugged. “Honestly, Malcolm, I do not have the faintest idea. But I have to at least pretend to try and find her, to propose an arrangement, or my grandmother will sense the deceit a mile away. My good man, I cannot have my house filled with eager ladies again. You would not believe the stack of complaints I have on my desk at Knotgill, though I daresay reading them again shall entertain me on a quiet night when I have nothing better to do.”
He waved a farewell to his friend and wandered off across the terrace, a glass of punch in hand, looking across the sea of guests for any sign of Miss Marina Longman. At the very least, thanks to his grandmother, he had her name now.
Maybe I should just shout for her? See if I cannot find her that way…
The thought amused him as he let his gaze travel toward an open sort of piazza, a short distance from the terrace. An orchestra played some lively music, a handful of courageous dancers taking to the floor though it was broad daylight and the temperature was rising.
