A Wedding In Springtime(18)
“Oh, that is exactly what I need. Who is this lady?”
“I cannot say, for her identity is a closely guarded secret. Please do not repeat this to anyone.”
“No, of course not.” Lady Bremerton lowered her voice and leaned forward.
“She has a written ledger of eligible bachelors,” said the dowager in hushed tones. “Their worth, their connections and proclivities, it is all written in her secret book. She is an expert in marriage and how to extricate damsels from difficult situations.”
Lady Bremerton’s eyes were wide. Genie’s were likewise afflicted. Pen was alarmed that the dowager was speaking about her annotated version of Debrett’s and tried in vain to catch the dowager’s eye.
“Antonia, please, you must tell me how I can contact this lady. She is precisely the miracle I have hoped for.”
“I do not wish to disappoint you, but her fees are rather high. I would even call them extravagant.”
“Price is of no concern.”
“What would you be willing to pay?” asked the dowager, her blue eyes gleaming.
“Anything!” said Lady Bremerton recklessly.
The tea cart arrived and Pen made a point of rattling the china to disturb the conversation as much as possible with the hope of shaking the dowager off the topic. Pen could not feel comfortable with what the dowager was proposing.
“I might be willing to contact Madam X if you can tell me what you would be willing to spend to see your niece married before the end of the season,” said the dowager, undeterred by Pen’s clattering teacups.
Lady Bremerton’s eyelids fluttered and she glanced around wildly. “If Eugenia could be married before the end of the season, oh, that would be something. I would… I would match her dowry!”
“Aunt Cora!” exclaimed Genie. “You could not possibly.”
“Hold your tongue, child!” exclaimed Lady Bremerton. “’Tis nothing but a trifle in comparison to having my reputation tarnished.”
“Certainly,” said the dowager evenly, “a wise investment to be sure. I shall be in touch with Madam X and let you know her answer.”
Pen stifled a gasp. The dowager was auctioning off Pen’s questionable services in the marriage mart for a shocking amount. Pen clinked her teacup down on her saucer, trying to get the dowager’s attention but in vain.
“Your Grace—” began Penelope, determined to end this farce, but the dowager interrupted her.
“Marchford? Is that you dearest?” called the duchess.
A rustle from the corridor was silenced. Penelope could imagine the duke judging whether he needed to respond or if he would best make a run for it. At length, he came to the open doorway.
“Yes, Grandmother?”
“Marchford, may I present to you Miss Talbot? She is the cousin of Lady Louisa and is lately come to London.”
“Ah, yes. Louisa’s cousin.” The duke gave Miss Talbot a discerning look. “I have heard of her arrival.” His wry smile was not shared by Lady Bremerton.
“Please be a dear and show the young people a tour of the house,” continued the dowager. “I have a few things I need to discuss with Lady Bremerton. You were not on your way out, were you? You are always so considerate, so obliging, that’s a dear.”
Marchford, wearing a midnight blue, double-breasted, cutaway riding coat over suede breeches and top boots, was almost certainly going out for a ride. He gave a perfunctory smile and spun the riding crop in his hand. “I would be pleased to take the young ladies on a short tour of the house.” He bowed politely and even though he said and acted as he ought, Pen had no question that he was displeased with this turn of events.
Pen and Genie walked toward the door to begin their tour; indeed, they had no other choice. Pen glanced back at the dowager, sure she had found a way to get the dissenting voices out of the room so the dowager could plot more efficiently with Lady Bremerton. She had a nagging suspicion she should not leave poor Lady Bremerton undefended, but there was nothing to do but follow the duke out the door.
Marchford led the two ladies through the house, showing them the briefest glance at the drawing rooms, the salon, and the library. The library appeared extensive and Pen was drawn into the room, admiring his collection. She was roused back to order by the duke standing at the door, watch in hand. She barely made it out of the room before he strode off again, rapidly commenting on fluted moldings and ionic columns.