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“Of course!” Mr. Fenley’s gaze was guileless. “It would not do to leave a lady sitting on her own.”

And that was how, by the time Tiffany joined them, Mei had already seated herself beside Lady Annabelle on the couch, with a cup of tea in her hand and was deep in conversation about the upcoming production of All’s Well that Ends Well at the Globe. Mei tensed, wondering if Tiffany meant to try to pull her aside, but instead, Tiffany sat down as well and joined in the conversation.

It did not take Mei long to realize that Tiffany, rather than biding her time to speak with Mei privately, was using it to learn more about Lady Annabelle. The conversation was interspersed with Mr. Fenley’s rather unpolished but enthusiastic remarks, which made it highly entertaining. Especially when the topic turned to Monkey Sinclair.

“Do you ever get to feed the monkey?” he asked, leaning forward.

Lady Annabelle laughed. “Unfortunately, no. He tolerates me, but preferably from a distance. As a gentleman, you would have a far better chance of tempting him with a treat than I do.”

“It is true,” Tiffany agreed sadly. “I have been trying to feed him for ages. The only ladies he seems to actually like are Baroness Ashfield and the Duke of Hereford’s younger sister, Fiona.”

“Fiona does have a way with animals.” Mei reached out to pat Tiffany’s hand. “As they are the only exceptions, at least you know it is not personal to you.”

“Yes, but I would like to be an exception as well.” Tiffany pouted at her.

“As would I,” Lady Annabelle chimed in with a mock-mournful expression, making them all laugh as she smiled. Of course, it could not be comfortable knowing that you were soon to marry and live with a man whose constant companion barely tolerated you. Especially when it had such a fondness for his ex-mistress.

Poor Lady Annabelle. Yet, here she was, jesting and smiling and seemingly not at all put out. Mei rather liked the young lady and, speaking to her, liked her even more. It was too bad the marriage mart and Society’s expectations had made such a hash of her life.

Once again, Mei was glad she was in the position to be able to make her own decisions about her own life. There were enviable benefits to being part of the ton, but there were considerable downsides as well.

Sebastian

“Gregory!” It was all Sebastian could do not to actually shout at the man. Blurting out his intentions for Mei was not how he’d wanted to tell his friends, if he’d planned to tell them at all before the end of the house party. But of course, Gregory could not just leave well enough alone. He was all impulse and action. Which is how he’d ended up married to Sebastian’s sister, for that matter.

He should have known better than to ask Gregory.

“Congratulations!” Matthew said, leaning over with his hand out to shake Sebastian’s.

“She has not actually said yes yet,” Christian pointed out, his tone a touch caustic. He was still pouting. Miss Belle truly had put him in a terrible mood.

“You cannot do that!” Zachary sputtered, shaking his head as if shaking off the way he’d just frozen. “She’s a matchmaker.”

“Is she? I had mistaken her for a chair,” Gregory replied drily. “Whyever can he not? If he wants her for his wife, which he does—he’s had his eye on her ever since they were introduced—then he should marry her.”

“What? I have not.” Sebastian frowned. “I did not consider her for my bride until… well…” He cast his mind back, trying to remember the exact moment that his thoughts for the matchmaker had started to change. Of course, he’d been attracted to her almost immediately. She was an attractive young lady. But…

“See?” Gregory pointed at him. “As I said.”

“Well, that explains why you were so against having her arrange a match for you,” Nathanial said.

“No, in fact, I hired her before the house party to help me find a match,” Sebastian argued.

“Why would you do that if you want to marry her?” Matthew frowned at him.

“Because I had not planned to marry her yet.” Sebastian threw his hands in the air. This was what telling Gregory things led to, every time, yet, for some reason, he did it, anyway. Perhaps there was a part of him that was relieved it was all now out in the open. Had some part of him hoped Gregory would do exactly this, so he did not have to?

Huh.

A knock at the door made all of them freeze, then Drake spun around and reached the door in three strides. Unlocking it with a quick motion, he opened it.

Northumberland stood on the other side, fist still raised where he’d been about to knock again, a small smile on his face.

“Ah, hello,” he said cheerfully, his gaze darting past Drake’s broad shoulders to those he could see in the rest of the room—Sebastian, Nathanial, and Gregory. Christian and Matthew would be out of his sight, which meant they were the only ones free to make a face of disgust when they heard Northumberland’s voice.

Sebastian felt his jaw set, maintaining an expression of calm disinterest. He hoped. It was not Northumberland’s fault that he was Sinclair’s heir. Of course, he wanted to connect with his fellow dukes.

It just always felt like an intrusion.