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“Yes, my lady.” Stephens vanished.
“Mother?”
“We are going to see Lady Crewood.”
“Now?”
“Now. I suggest you send a hall boy with a message immediately. It will take a few moments for the horses to be arranged.”
Mark pushed away from the mantel. “I will do it,” he said on his way out of the room.
Matthew shook his head. “It is far too early to make a call. Especially an unexpected one.”
“If she is as industrious as you claim, it will not unsettle her.”
“It is rude.”
“I am a duchess. It is not rude for me to pay a call. Ever.”
“Mother—”
“Is she attractive? You have said nothing about her appearance.”
An image of Sarah suddenly appeared in Matthew’s mind, the way she looked as he had tilted her chin up, the sweet emotion in those brown eyes. “She”—he swallowed—“has the loveliest eyes, the kindest spirit. One of her first concerns was that her household staff be cared for—not turned out after we marry. She is intelligent and understands how an estate runs. She oversaw some significant repairs to the Crewood manor house—”
“And the scar?”
Matthew paused, brows furrowed. “Inconsequential. Exactly how many inquiries have you made?”
“Inconsequential? Her husband pushed her into a fire. She wears a veil. Have you even seen her without it?”
“Yes. Answer my question.”
His mother’s maid appeared in the doorway with a pelisse, reticule, and gloves, and Phyllida stood. “Did I mention that the woman is notorious? She is not unknown among the women of theton,Matthew.” She crossed and allowed the maid to drape the pelisse over her shoulders, then she took the gloves and reticule. “If you had thought once to ask me about her—”
Matthew rose as well. “You would have steered me clear of her.”
“Indeed. But what is done is done. Let us go see the lady and establish what will happen next.”
“I know what will happen—”
“You have planned a Society wedding, have you?”
“I do not want a Society wedding.”
Phyllida sniffed and looked up at him. “You are a duke. It will be a Society wedding, whether you—and Lady Crewood—like it or not. Now I want to meet the woman who has so unexpectedly enchanted my son.” With that she turned and headed toward the front door, which Stephens opened promptly.
Matthew stared after her.Enchanted? She thought he was enchanted? What the devil—
“Come along, Matthew. Do not dawdle.”
Chapter Five
Monday, 25 July 1814
Lady Crewood’s home
Noon
