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“She would not,” Sebastian agreed. “It could also put her in danger. I discovered that her long-time lady’s maid is dead. Mother said Harleen was ill, but…” He shook his head. “It could be coincidence. It might not be.”

“My suggestion is that at the end of the house party, we send someone to the Grange to speak with the doctor and anyone else who might know what happened with Harleen and to find out if she died of natural causes or not,” Drake said, taking the reins of the conversation again. The Grange was the farthest property from London that Sebastian owned, as well as being the smallest, and his mother’s least favorite. “The rest of us will return to London. Sebastian will locate Aaron Heywood in his household, and then we will decide how to handle things from there.”

“I can go to the Grange,” Christian offered. “It’s not as if I have anything to rush back to in London.”

“I can go with you.” Zachary sighed at the reactions of surprise and concern that his statement elicited. “My mother, Lady Annabelle, and her mother have everything well in hand for the wedding. They do not need me to plan it.”

And he could use a break from all of it—those were the words that hung in the air unspoken, eliciting sympathy from everyone present. He looked away, out the window, and Monkey Sinclair tugged on the top of his ear, making him wince.

“I would appreciate the company,” Christian said formally.

The room fell into a somewhat tense silence, but only for a moment.

“Well, good, then that’s settled.” Gregory, of course, was the one to break the tension. He was incapable of sitting in the quiet for more than a second or two. “Is there anything else? Other than Sebastian’s desire to marry the matchmaker that is.”

The room exploded with sound as several of their friends exclaimed loudly, while the others’ jaws dropped in silent shock. Gregory grinned, apparently pleased with the sensation he’d just created.

Bloody hell.

Sebastian was going to murder his best friend.

29

Mei

The departure of the dukes was not showy, but it made for an invariable shift in the room. Also, a lessening of tension from the corner where Rose and the Duke of Montagu had been exchanging fierce words. Rose had moved over to sit beside Johanna and Astrid, her chin in the air but with a calm demeanor as if she had not just been arguing with a duke of the realm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mei saw Tiffany begin to head toward her, and panic erupted in her stomach. Although they were friends, Mei had no idea what Tiffany might think of a liaison between herself and Tiffany’s brother. Especially after Mei had been the one to suggest the ladies to invite.

Did Tiffany suspect something?

Would she want to talk to Mei about the debutantes and if Bolton had a preference?

Blast, Mei had been so distracted by the duke himself, she had not thought through the inevitable conversations with his sister over the next few days. Though Tiffany could not ask too much if Mei were not alone, could she?

“Did it get quieter in here?” Mr. Fenley asked, turning his head. “The room seems a bit emptier.”

“I believe some of the gentlemen, the dukes, have stepped out,” Mei replied, relaxing a bit as Lady MarcyAnne waylaid Tiffany, pulling her into conversation and halting the duchess’ progress across the room.

“Ah, yes, they are gone, aren’t they?” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “I suppose they must have something serious to discuss. It makes me glad I am the third son of a third son. Me, a marquess… can you imagine?” He shuddered, and Mei could not help but laugh.

“I am sure you would not be as bad at it as all that.”

“Thankfully, we will never have to find out.” He chuckled again. “I would much rather experience life, you know? Having to attend house parties, balls, Parliament… some of it is quite enjoyable, especially in the right company.” He smiled at her. “There is so much more to the world than that, though.”

“Then you wish to travel?”

“Travel is delightful but not necessary. I want to experience. Even in London, there are so many things to do that our set ignores. My grandfather and uncles and father and cousins and brothers all go to the club, but they eschew the coffee shops. But the coffee shops are where the most interesting people are.” Now that Mr. Fenley was speaking on something he was passionate about, it lit up his entire face with enthusiasm. “You can learn so much there. Business, engineering, inventions… the men who are doing things, creating things. They have knowledge of the world rather than just living atop it without a clue of what is happening beneath their cheekbones.”

“That is… very progressive of you.”

“Ah, well, as the third son of a third son, I need to be thinking of my future as well.”

Despite his youthful naivete, there was a core of common sense beneath it. Though his family was wealthy enough to support the whole of it, things could always change. His grandfather was generous; when his uncle inherited, he might be less so. Mei rather admired him for his forward thinking, in multiple ways.

It also explained why he was so comfortable speaking with her as an equal, if he had been frequenting the coffee shops and conversing with the businessmen there.

“I think that is very wise,” Mei said, smiling. Blast. It looked as though Tiffany’s conversation with Lady MarcyAnne was coming to a close. She glanced around. Lady Annabelle was currently only a few feet away, with no one to speak with, and was frowning at the door the dukes had left through. “Oh dear, it looks as though Lady Annabelle has been abandoned. Do you think we should join her?”