Roswell lifted his brow. “That is an odd pastime to have.”
“It isn’t just a pastime,” Charles defended. “I own a percentage in a company that buys and sells antiquities, and it has been quite lucrative.”
Before Roswell could reply, his mother walked into the room with a solemn look on her face. She closed the door before she spoke. “I wanted to speak to you for a moment before the dinner bell rings,” she said.
Charles shifted in his chair to face her. “Is everything all right?”
Her mother bobbed her head. “It is, but Miss Bentley arrived a short time ago.”
Roswell groaned. “I hadn’t expected her so soon.”
“Neither did I, but I am pleased she is here.”
“Are you?” Roswell asked.
His mother smiled. “I am,” she replied. “I am looking forward to getting to know her better, and I daresay she looks just like her mother.”
“I have no intention of spending time with this country bumpkin,” Roswell pressed.
“That is terribly unfair of you to say,” his mother chided. “I have no doubt she is an accomplished young woman.”
Roswell frowned. “You will eventually come to see that this was a mistake,” he warned. “Miss Bentley has no place in our home.”
“I disagree,” his mother defended. “Besides, it will do us all some good to look past ourselves and help another.”
“She is a young woman with no dowry,” Roswell said. “I contend that no sensible gentleman will give her any heed.”
His mother gave him a displeased look. “I’m not asking you to befriend the girl, but will you not at least be civil to her?”
Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Roswell nodded. “I will be civil, but nothing more.”
“Thank you, Roswell.” She turned her gaze towards Charles. “Can I count on you to be civil, as well?”
Charles smiled. “You need not fear on that account.”
His mother gave him an approving nod. “Thank you,” she said. “That is a pleasure to hear.”
The dinner bell rang in the distance, beckoning them to the drawing room.
Roswell rose from his chair. “I suppose it is best to get this over with,” he muttered.
“Miss Bentley is a charming young woman,” his mother asserted. “I hope you will find her agreeable.”
“She is not worthy of my notice,” Roswell commented as he came around his desk.
Rising, Charles stated, “That is rather harsh of you to say.”
“I don’t believe it is,” Roswell remarked. “She intends to live off our good graces for the rest of the Season as if she were a poor relation.”
His mother gave him a stern look. “I want you to behave,” she instructed firmly. “Remember that Miss Bentley is a guest in our home and should be treated with respect.”
Roswell put his hand up in front of him. “As you wish, Mother.”
“I shall see you both in the drawing room,” their mother said, opening the door. “Do not dillydally.”
Roswell watched her depart. “Mother is far too trusting.”
“How so?” Charles asked.
