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“Lied to protect himself.” Phyllida nodded to each of them. “We have all known such men, who care only for their own reputations.”
The three fell silent, and Sarah was wondering if they were considering such men in their own lives. Or if they believed Phyllida to be the one casting lies.
Lady Jersey looked pointedly at the right side of Sarah’s face. “I heard you usually wear a veil. That”—she gestured with one hand—“is quite gruesome.”
“I do, but—”
“We believe the veil adds to the false rumors.” Phyllida squeezed Sarah’s fingers. “Giving credence to the claim that her injuries were not severe. My son finds her lovely, as do I. I believe people should see her strength as well.”
Silence. Then Lady Jersey glanced at Lady Cowper, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Lady Jersey’s lips pursed. “What you ask is quite irregular.”
Phyllida’s regal posture emphasized her presence and rank. “But you can understand our dilemma.”
Lady Jersey sniffed. “Quite irregular. But I will send over a voucher”—she looked up at Matthew even as she spoke to Phyllida. “To His Grace, on the occasion of his recent investiture and status as an unmarried duke, and to you, as Duchess. You may transfer the voucher to Lady Crewood as your intended daughter-in-law. I will inform Mr. Willis. No other exceptions, Your Grace. And never ask this of us again.” Her bright eyes focused on Sarah again. “I hope you enjoy your afternoon in the park.”
And with that, the three turned and sauntered away.
Matthew turned to Phyllida. “What just happened?”
Sarah fought to catch her breath, which she had not realized she was holding. “Did you arrange this?”
Phyllida looked like a cream-sated cat. “Of course I did. Do you have a suitable gown that your maid can work her miracles on?”
“Perhaps. I”—Sarah struggled to find the words—“I could—an older. Your Grace! Almack’s!”
Matthew growled. “Almack’s. What the devil did you—”
Phyllida tapped his arm with the fan she carried. “We are just flanking their first salvo, my dear.”
“I am not going to Almack’s.”
His mother gave Sarah a sly grin. “Men know so little about how these things work. Now we must stroll. It is ill manners to loiter. Mark!”
Sarah jerked around, unaware that Matthew’s brother had joined the party. He moved away from the carriage where he had been lurking. “Mother.”
“Walk with me.”
Dutifully, Mark held out his arm and Phyllida slipped her hand inside his elbow. They headed down a path leading deeper into the park, walking at a rather quick pace. Matthew squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “I am still shaking.” She took a deep breath, trying to quell her trembling knees. “I cannot believe your mother arranged to meet two of the patronesses of Almack’s here. She must have known exactly when they would be strolling.”
He folded her hand inside his arm, covering it with his other one. “Mark likens her to a hurricane. He survived one while on a journey to America. He said he had not realized that nature could be almost as powerful as our mother.” Sarah snickered, and Matthew smiled. “Ah, that’s better. Can you walk now? We will take a much slower pace than Mother.”
“I suspect she could walk the Serpentine and back before we could catch up.”
Matthew chuckled. “My father used to insist they take the landau to the park so she would not leave him breathless trying to keep abreast with her.”
“Do you miss him?”
His gaze grew a bit distant. “Every day.”
“I thought you had been gone from home a long time.”
“I have. But it is different, knowing that someone is there, even if you do not see them often, and them being gone forever. Do you not miss your father?”
“I do. Like you. Every day. I am always thinking of something I want to say or ask him.” She looked at the path beneath them. “Mostly ask him. He gave great advice, even if he did not always take it.”
“Advice is always easier to give than to take. Even for the wisest of men.”
