“It washerplan. And it should have worked. We were careful.”
“Too many cooks spoil the broth, brother. Too many people knew.” She gestured toward the foolscap on the desk. “Including that bloody vicar!”
“I should have shot him when I had the chance.”
“You would have hanged.”
“Parliament would not hang a duke over one reprobate vicar.”
Mary glared at him.
“Are you two quite finished?”
They both looked at Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Mary nodded.
“I must say, your family dinners must be remarkably entertaining.”
“And you have not even met our mother,” Kit grumbled.
Mary smirked.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon did not. “According to my sources, however, the vicar is not the only motivator behind the rumors. There are also concerns, Lady Mary, about your own behavior in the park toward the child”—she glanced down—“that you call Mina, instead of Lady Catherine, as one would the daughter of a duke. That your attitude toward her has been far too familiar than that of aunt to niece.”
Because she is my child.Mary chewed her lower lip again. “I have found it difficult—”
“No doubt. But the rumors have spread like the Great Fire through London. Thus your concerns about your upcoming season—”
“Our mother, the dowager duchess, or my mother-in-law, the Duchess of Kennet, would have presented her—”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon interrupted him. “And there is the matter of your appointment to India, so that you and your wife will be leaving shortly—”
“Lady Mary will be in the care of either my mother or my in-laws, who—”
“But she has received no invitations, not even a notice from the queen—”
“We had hoped—”
“Kit!” Mary’s temper flared again. “Would you shut it? You are merely repeating what she already knows. Can we move on to whatever reason it is you brought me here? If you think my reputation is flinders now, wait till one of the dragons spy me coming out of this place!”
Silence descended. Kit clutched his hands together, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His face had paled, the bouncing stopped.
Mary leaned toward him and grasped his forearm. “I know you think this is all your fault and you are desperate to fix it. But some things may never be reparable. Perhaps I was never meant to have a season, no matter how much either of us wanted it.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon cleared her throat. “Lady Mary, your brother contacted me precisely because he believes I can help. So do I.”
Mary straightened. “How?”
“A successful season has many goals, including establishing your place among the Beau Monde. But the primary goal is and always has been a betrothal to a reputable family. I can arrange that.” She opened a drawer and pulled out several sheets of paper. “I have three gentlemen who would be suitable prospects. All from good families, reasonable men of good nature and form, whom you could meet in confidence. Once a courtship is arranged and a suit begun, the rumors will dissipate when it is clear the facts would not be an impediment to a beneficial match. You and your suitor can then move through thetonwith relative ease.”
“And why would any of these gentlemen agree to meet with someone whose reputation has been besmirched? To meet with me?”
“All three are in substantial debt to me, and all three have agreed to the resolution of that debt through a marriage of my choice.”
Mary’s stomach tightened. “A barter. With my brother paying you and covering the debts.”
“An exchange, not unlike that which occurs in many arranged marriages.”
The room suddenly turned hot, her head light. Mary glared at Kit. “You mean to sell me. Sell me to the highest bidder. To a man you do not know and have never heard of.”
