eavesdropping for some odd reason.
“My lord.” David greeted the baron, but Amelia’s father only shook his head and waved him onward. Why in the world the older man was lurking about instead of joining them was uncertain. The butler only lifted a finger to his lips and beckoned for David to join the ladies inside.
The parlor was a cozy room with creamy wallpaper and long green drapes to frame the large windows. He bowed to the ladies, greeting Lady Lanfordshire first. “I trust you had a good journey from Scotland?”
“It was wretched, as always.” She smiled, gesturing for him to sit. “Thank you for coming to tea with Amelia and me.”
He took a seat across from them and saw the gleam of strategy in the young woman’s face. Amelia was clearly plotting something, and he wasn’t certain what that was. “It was my pleasure.”
Lady Lanfordshire began with a banal conversation about the weather and travel conditions, but all of his concentration was on Amelia. She was wearing a deep blue gown, and her blond hair was pulled back into a chignon, though several strands were artfully arranged about her face.
There was no denying her beauty. Her green eyes held mischief, as if she knew a secret he didn’t.
Too young , his brain warned. Even so, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. David forced himself to reply to Lady Lanfordshire’s questions, but Amelia withdrew a scrap of paper from behind a cushion, letting him silently know that she’d received his list. Her eyes shone with amusement, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
Do you really think I’ll pay any heed to this list? her eyes seemed to say.
It’s for your own good , he responded silently.
When Lady Lanfordshire offered him a piece of cake, he declined politely, keeping to his tea. Amelia, however, closed her eyes when she took a bite, savoring the taste. She appeared lost in a moment of reverence, while she enjoyed the moist cake with currants.
He’d seen that look on a woman’s face before, and it reminded him of how many years it had been since he’d shared his wife’s bed. It was unnerving to find himself so intrigued by Amelia’s response.
“If I may, Mother,” Amelia began, “I wanted you to meet Lord Castledon because I believe he would make an excellent husband for Margaret.”
Lady Lanfordshire nearly spewed her tea across the saucer. Instead, she coughed, raising a handkerchief to her lips. “Goodness, Amelia, you needn’t be so forward. Lord Castledon certainly has no need of your matchmaking.”
Miss Andrews ignored her mother. “He is five-and-thirty, and—”
“Three-and-thirty,” he corrected. He didn’t need her adding years to his age.
“Yes, well, he’s not too old for her yet. He’s a nice gentleman, and I believe they would get on quite well.”
Lady Lanfordshire closed her eyes as if seeking patience from a higher power. “Amelia, dearest, this is not the way a young woman should behave in front of an earl.” She sent him an embarrassed smile. “I understand you have a daughter, am I right, Lord Castledon?”
It was a blatant tactic to change the conversation topic.
“I do.” Clearly Lady Lanfordshire had no idea that he and Amelia had already conversed about potential wives. Steering the conversation back, he added, “And it is Christine’s fondest wish that I remarry and give her a mother.”
The matron’s expression softened. “How old is your daughter?”
“Eleven years old,” he admitted. “I should have remarried long before now, since I do need an heir. And yet, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do so.” He saw the sympathetic dismay on Lady Lanfordshire’s face. “Miss Andrews offered to help me find some suitable candidates.”
The older woman sighed. “Amelia ought to mind her own affairs instead of meddling with others.”
“I’m very good at meddling,” Amelia interjected. “And I do get results.”
That she did. David raised an eyebrow at her, and she sent back a
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