stress her dictate.
“Don’t fret, Mama.” Lady Ellen kissed her mother’s cheek. “For your sake, I won’t speak to Vane about it this evening. I will meet up with you later.” To Grace, she said, “Best of luck with the lions!”
Grace contemplated the woman’s parting words as she observed her greeting Lady Child and her son in a friendly manner. Or was the gentleman the lady’s nephew?
“What did she mean about the lions?” She looked at the marchioness when she did not respond right away.
“Nothing. My youngest has an odd sense of humor,” Lady Netherley said, taking her by the arm and leading her in the opposite direction. “In truth, my son suffers from the same affliction so you have my permission to ignore him, too. Heaven knows if I had listened to half the things he said, I would have never bothered introducing him to his wife.”
“I see.” Grace was uncertain how to respond. It appeared the entire family comprised odd fellows. Perhaps her faith in Lady Netherley had been misplaced?
“Come along, my dear,” the marchioness said, her wizened face brightening as she recognized several people in the distance. “This has all the promise of an intriguing evening!”
* * *
Hunter had less charitable thoughts about his evening.
Earlier in the afternoon, he had received troubling news from the messenger he had sent to Frethwell Hall. His intention had been to alert the household of his upcoming visit so preparations could be made in advance. Instead, he learned that Lady Grace was not in residence. According to the butler, his mistress had taken residence in London since she was in the market for a husband.
A husband. Had the silly chit forgotten that she was betrothed to him ?
He could not decide which upset him more—the notion that Lady Grace was ignoring rules he had established for her protection, or her determination to find another gentleman to take his place.
Lady Grace had placed herself in peril by traveling to London on her own. Not only were there brigands and scoundrels to contend with, but she did not have a single friend in town who might offer her shelter. A wealthy lady drew all sorts of unsavory attention, and for that alone he could quietly strangle her with his bare hands.
The chit was a lamb in a town of wolves.
Working feverishly to pick up her trail, it had taken Hunter’s men three hours to deduce that Lady Grace was not without resources or friends. He should have guessed that Lady Netherley would embrace the lost little lamb.
The marchioness was also the one lady who had a certain reputation as a matchmaker. Had Lady Grace asked the elderly woman for assistance in securing a husband this season?
And what would have been Lady Netherley’s response to such a request? Vane’s mother was too kindhearted to turn away a lady in need. Of course she would help her. There was no doubt that Lady Grace viewed him with a jaundiced eye, and the marchioness had likely heard rumors of Hunter’s conquests while she resided in town.
Saint and Catherine had been visiting when Hunter had received the news of his errant bride-to-be. His first inclination was to confront Lady Netherley immediately, and scold her for her part in this mischief. Saint advised against this. The marchioness was Vane’s mother, and he did not take kindly to anyone upsetting her. Catherine also recommended caution when handling his reluctant betrothed. If Lady Grace was preparing to contest the arranged marriage, she might flee, and this time she might not find herself among friends. Saint concurred.
Outnumbered, Hunter had not rushed over to the Netherleys’ town house to demand Lady Grace’s whereabouts. Saint vowed that he and Catherine would call on the marchioness on his behalf.
A messenger arrived at the door an hour later with a note from his friend. Lady Netherley had not been at home, but Saint assured him that he would send word after he spoke to the lady.
Hunter was still
“Don’t fret, Mama.” Lady Ellen kissed her mother’s cheek. “For your sake, I won’t speak to Vane about it this evening. I will meet up with you later.” To Grace, she said, “Best of luck with the lions!”
Grace contemplated the woman’s parting words as she observed her greeting Lady Child and her son in a friendly manner. Or was the gentleman the lady’s nephew?
“What did she mean about the lions?” She looked at the marchioness when she did not respond right away.
“Nothing. My youngest has an odd sense of humor,” Lady Netherley said, taking her by the arm and leading her in the opposite direction. “In truth, my son suffers from the same affliction so you have my permission to ignore him, too. Heaven knows if I had listened to half the things he said, I would have never bothered introducing him to his wife.”
“I see.” Grace was uncertain how to respond. It appeared the entire family comprised odd fellows. Perhaps her faith in Lady Netherley had been misplaced?
“Come along, my dear,” the marchioness said, her wizened face brightening as she recognized several people in the distance. “This has all the promise of an intriguing evening!”
* * *
Hunter had less charitable thoughts about his evening.
Earlier in the afternoon, he had received troubling news from the messenger he had sent to Frethwell Hall. His intention had been to alert the household of his upcoming visit so preparations could be made in advance. Instead, he learned that Lady Grace was not in residence. According to the butler, his mistress had taken residence in London since she was in the market for a husband.
A husband. Had the silly chit forgotten that she was betrothed to him ?
He could not decide which upset him more—the notion that Lady Grace was ignoring rules he had established for her protection, or her determination to find another gentleman to take his place.
Lady Grace had placed herself in peril by traveling to London on her own. Not only were there brigands and scoundrels to contend with, but she did not have a single friend in town who might offer her shelter. A wealthy lady drew all sorts of unsavory attention, and for that alone he could quietly strangle her with his bare hands.
The chit was a lamb in a town of wolves.
Working feverishly to pick up her trail, it had taken Hunter’s men three hours to deduce that Lady Grace was not without resources or friends. He should have guessed that Lady Netherley would embrace the lost little lamb.
The marchioness was also the one lady who had a certain reputation as a matchmaker. Had Lady Grace asked the elderly woman for assistance in securing a husband this season?
And what would have been Lady Netherley’s response to such a request? Vane’s mother was too kindhearted to turn away a lady in need. Of course she would help her. There was no doubt that Lady Grace viewed him with a jaundiced eye, and the marchioness had likely heard rumors of Hunter’s conquests while she resided in town.
Saint and Catherine had been visiting when Hunter had received the news of his errant bride-to-be. His first inclination was to confront Lady Netherley immediately, and scold her for her part in this mischief. Saint advised against this. The marchioness was Vane’s mother, and he did not take kindly to anyone upsetting her. Catherine also recommended caution when handling his reluctant betrothed. If Lady Grace was preparing to contest the arranged marriage, she might flee, and this time she might not find herself among friends. Saint concurred.
Outnumbered, Hunter had not rushed over to the Netherleys’ town house to demand Lady Grace’s whereabouts. Saint vowed that he and Catherine would call on the marchioness on his behalf.
A messenger arrived at the door an hour later with a note from his friend. Lady Netherley had not been at home, but Saint assured him that he would send word after he spoke to the lady.
Hunter was still
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