“My mother, the Duchess of Santiava,” he said. “Mami, allow me to introduce Miss Woodchurch, who has proven invaluable to me here in London. She is my scribe.”
“Yourscribe?” his mother said, without acknowledging Hattie. “I thought you’d have some old gentleman like Mr. Callum. Really, why is itnotMr. Callum?”
“I think you meant to welcome Miss Woodchurch?”
His mother looked at Hattie, but her gaze glossed over her. “A pleasure, Miss Woodchurch.” She turned back to her plate.
“The pleasure is mine, madam,” Hattie said.
His mother did not respond. Mateo was greatly irritated by her behavior—she could be so condescending and superior at times. He wanted to remind her they were all God’s creatures and she was not, by virtue of some bloody title, better than anyone else in this room. He could feel the stiffness in Hattie, could sense the desire to be anywhere but here. He touched her elbow. “I’ll join you in the study shortly. My mother has only just arrived from Paris.”
She nodded and quickly disappeared.
Mateo reluctantly returned to the tea. He could feel Lady Aleksander’s eyes on him, but that was nothing new. He could feel his mother’s indifference to anything that wasn’t of interest to her, and that was also nothing new. He tried to make small talk—he asked if there was any news from Roberto. When Sofia expected her third child. He listened to her recount all that she’d bought in Paris, and wondered if the list was intended as a boast before Lady Aleksander. Frankly, her talk made him a little ill—his mother had a habit of treating the duchy as a bottomless well of funds.
Lady Aleksander must have also grown bored of the recitation of purchases, because in the slender moment his mother took a breath, she said, “I haven’t had the chance to speak with you since the tea, my lord. What did you think of Lady Mabel Stanhope?”
Dios mío.He hated these interviews, hated the whole idea of being matched. He hated everything about this room, this tea, about London. “A bit too young.”
“Oh?” Lady Aleksander seemed surprised, probably because he’d actually responded to her question. “And Miss Raney? You spoke to her at some length at the garden tea.”
“Miss Raney is the same as she was the last time you asked, madam. Perfectly fine.”
Lady Aleksander put down her cup and saucer with a clank. “Do you think that Miss Raney might be the perfect match for you? I only ask because you don’t seem to enjoy the process, and you’ve had an opportunity to assess compatibility with her.”
His mother’s gaze turned sharp as a hawk and fixed on him. He didn’t answer straightaway. Miss Raney was a good match for him, in theory. And yet...he couldn’t agree to it. “It is possible.”
He expected Lady Aleksander to do some cartwheels or clap her hands with delight, but she nodded and said, “If I may tell your mother a little about her?”
He nodded, then listened impassively as Lady Aleksander ran through Miss Raney’s list of attributes—she was pretty. Her family rich. Her father well-connected.
His mother’s eyes kept darting between him and Lady Aleksander as the latter exalted Miss Raney.
When Lady Aleksander had finished, his mother cocked her head coyly to one side. “Well, darling? How do you feel about Miss Raney?”
“It is impossible to know how Ifeelabout anyone after a few short, superficial conversations.”
“Then did you find anything to put you off of her after your one or two conversations?”
Mateo laughed sourly. He was beginning to feel a bit like a trapped animal. “I haven’t found anything objectionable about anyone. They have all been pleasant, pretty women.”
Her gaze narrowed and she leaned forward like she would when he was a boy to scold him. “Why do I feel you’re not sharing your true feelings?”
Oh, perhaps because he’d been berated for sharing his opinions all his life. But there was no point in denying it. He was not one to dissemble. Or to charm his way out of this conversation. “I have no objection to Miss Raney. And neither do I have any esteem for her. I don’t know her well enough to know if I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”
“Teo.”His mother sighed.
Mateo stood up. “Would you like me to marry for the mere sake of it, Mami?”
“Well...yes,” she said. “That is the point of this endeavor.”
“I am notpropiedad,” he bit out, losing some of his English in the moment to his anger.
“You’re not the duchy’s property, if that’s what you mean.” His mother stood up and stepped forward, forcing him to look at her. “But you are the duke of a duchy with no heir. You really have no time for a long courtship or the development of feelings,mi amor. Your parliament is anxious to secure a succession because we all know what can happen when there is no heir. The clock is ticking.”
Mateo fisted one hand to control himself from exploding and saying something he would sorely regret.
“I have an idea,” she continued. “We’ll have a ball here and invite all the ladies on Lila’s list.”
