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“I suppose that is a mother’s duty, and the dowager baroness is always a stickler for that,” the valet murmured.

“I can see you smiling, Wallace,” came Andrew’s muffled complaint as the shirt slid over his head.

“Me, sir? Never, sir,” Wallace calmly replied, taking up the black stockings and trousers from the bed. “Please, sit, sir.”

Andrew did as he was bid, watching Wallace’s face intently as the valet deftly drew the stockings over his master’s feet and secured them with garters.

“I can see the corners of your mouth twitching,” Andrew admonished, frowning. At that point, Wallace’s smile got the better of him,and both men started laughing.

“I’m so glad to be able to provide you with some amusement, Wallace,” Andrew said when they had recovered themselves somewhat. He stood up to step into his clean trousers.

“Sorry, sir,” the valet replied, clearly struggling to regain his composure as he tucked in the shirt, fastened the buttons, and tightened the back.

“Don’t suppose you fancy taking my place at dinner, do you?” Andrew asked, brows raised speculatively.

“I’d be only too delighted, sir, but I think the guests would object. It is the baron himself they come to dine with, not his valet.”

“I suppose you’re right. Damn shame, though,” Andrew sighed, shrugging into the richly embroidered satin waistcoat Wallace held out to him.

“I won’t even be able to get drunk,” he added mournfully, his breath catching as Wallace tightened the waistcoat strings and tied them off. “I’ll have to make stupid small talk the whole time.” He paused to pull at the new outfit and briefly admired himself in the looking glass. “Hmm, not bad.”

He sat down on a stool by his dressing table, and Wallace deftly worked with a comb to bring some order to his master’s somewhat unruly light-brown hair. Then, the valet helped him into his patent leather shoes. Like an automaton, Andrew rose yet again, and suffered while Wallace tied his cravat in a tight, complicated knot, complaining the man was ‘trying to strangle’ him.

Andrew stood patiently while Wallace added a few dabs of gentleman’s sandalwood and lemon cologne strategically about his person, then helped his master into his favorite midnight-blue velvet coat.

Andrew smirked at his reflection as Wallace brushed him down, and he imagined the expression on his mother’s face when she saw him. She couldn’t say he hadn’t made an effort. And she should just be happy that he was attending her dinner at all.

His mother was coming from her bedchambers just as he emerged from his own. Her satin gown was elegant, but he had to smile at her high, single feather headdress—currently all the rage— as it bobbed along with her every step. Her face was flushed, revealing her excitement at the coming dinner, but when she saw Andrew, she paused to inspect him from head to toe.

“It will do, I suppose,” she said, frowning, “but you could have tried a little bit harder to be fashionable.”

“Are we ready?” he asked, ignoring her comments and offering his arm. His mother gave her infamous huff before taking it, and they set off down the hallway towards the staircase.

“Well, I certainly am,” she said. “Please, try to make our guests feel welcome.”

Andrew gave his mother a wide, fake grin.

“I live to serve,” he said.

They waited but a few minutes in the drawing room before hearing their guests arrive. The butler entered shortly afterwards and announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Kinswood and Lady Violet. As they were shown in, the dowager rose to greet her friends, followed by Andrew, and she made the usual tedious, formal introductions propriety demanded.

Andrew vaguely recognized the older couple. The earl was tall and spare with luxurious whiskers, his wife plump and pink-cheeked, and sporting a feather headdress similar to his mother’s. Lady Viola turned out to be quite pretty, with pale-blonde hair, light-green eyes, and a dimple in her cheek. But when he greeted her, he could not see a spark of intelligence in her eyes. Moreover, she seemed quite unable to take her eyes off him, which made him squirm inside.

“Welcome to our home, my lord, my ladies,” he declared once the formal introductions were over, his voice oozing a warmth he didn’t feel. “My mother and I are honored to have you join us for dinner, which should be served at any moment.” The earl and countess nodded gracefully, all smiles, as they made small talk with his mother. Andrew pretended to be listening, but he was really trying to avoid meeting Lady Violet’s eyes, which were still fixed upon him.

To his enormous relief the butler came to announce dinner, and thank the Lord, he wasn’t required to escort Lady Violet into the dining room; the two ladies went in arm in arm, chattering gaily, and the earl escorted his daughter, with Andrew following up the rear. Andrew took his place at the head of the table and waited while everyone settled in, with Lady Viola to his immediate right. His mother’s doing, obviously. Then, he signaled for service, the wine was poured, and the meal began.

During the soup course, his mother and Lady Kinswood immediately began a lively discussion of the Season, while the earl ate in silence.

“It is lovely weather we have been having lately, is it not?” Lady Viola said, stirring her soup with her spoon, but drinking not a mouthful that he could see. Andrew mustered another smile and nodded, again not looking directly at her.

“It is, indeed,” he said.As is to be expected for late spring,he added silently.

Andrew was preparing to engage the earl in business talk in the hopes of discouraging any further conversation from Lady Viola. But he had forgotten the whole reason for his mother holding the dinner. She spoke directly to Lady Viola, the purpose in her voice loud and clear—to spark a conversation between the singletons.

“I am sure you have many lovely new dresses for the Season, my dear,” she said. “The one you are wearing now is a wonderful shade of green. It suits you perfectly. Do you not agree, Son?”

Andrew clenched his jaw. Now he would be expected to compliment the young woman, which would serve as further encouragement. He vowed to make his mother regret trying to force her onto him if it was the last thing he did.

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