“Your lady is leaving you,” Constance said.
Blast. She and her father were indeed walking away. “Good day,” he called over his shoulder. By the time he caught up with Madelaine and Lord Stratmore, his head was not only foggy from last night’s drinks, it was pounding. Curse Gravenhurst and Pearson.
“Lady Madelaine.”
She faced him, her gaze frigid as a frozen lake. “Lord Grey. What a pleasant surprise. I’d thought you’d gone along with your friend.”
There was a lot he could say to that, but not in front of her father. Instead, he smiled, his face tight with the effort. “As you can see, I haven’t gone anywhere.” He waited, hoping she would give in and introduce him to her father, but from her mutinous airs, he suspected death would come quicker than Madelaine’s caving in would.
Her father coughed and when that failed to bring her to snuff on proper etiquette, the duke said, “Who might we have here?”
“Oh very well.” Madelaine scowled at Grey. She looked so kissable with her lips pressed together and her eyes sparkling with irritation. “Father, this is Lord Grey, the Duke of Ashdon’s son. And, Lord Grey—” Her eyebrows drew up into a haughty arch. “—this is my father, the Duke of Stratmore.”
“A pleasure to see you again, Duke.”
“Likewise, Lord Grey. I didn’t recognize you. You’ve at least doubled your height since last I met you. And a growth of beard as well.”
“I’m afraid I don’t recall the last meeting.”
“I should think not. It’s been a good fifteen years. Have you and Madelaine become friends at Court?”
“I’d like to think so.” Grey looked to Madelaine for some slight give in her anger. She glared in return.
“We’ve only just recently sp—sp—spo.” She gave her head a little shake. “Spoken.”
“Madelaine.” Her father narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”
Grey wanted to intervene on her behalf, but if Madelaine was anything like he was interference would only make her discomfort worse.
“N—noth—nothing, Father.”
“You’re stuttering, and we both know what that means.”
Grey didn’t know what it meant. He hoped she didn’t stutter when distraught because he’d definitely feel to blame. It was hard to imagine he could feel worse than he already did.
“Please, Father. Not now. It’s—” she audibly swallowed. “It. Is. Nothing.”
Stratmore’s gaze flicked to Grey. “Since my daughter refuses to tell me the truth, maybe you will? What is the meaning of her stuttering lies? What have you done to her?”
Stuttering lies? So Madelaine stuttered when she lied? This was a totally different matter. Grey almost smiled in relief. This could be a true blessing if their courtship proceeded to marriage. “I’m afraid I’ve attempted to begin a courtship of your daughter, but I rather botched it.”
A dark look swept across Stratmore’s face. Grey stiffened. The man thought Grey meant something debauched. “Nothing untoward, sir, I assure you. I was to meet her in my aunt’s apartment last night, with my aunt and sister as chaperone, but I was detained. She’s quite understandably vexed with me.”
Grey was going to take a large chance. He prayed it paid off. He stared into Madelaine’s eyes. “I beg your forgiveness. It wasn’t as it seemed. After I passed my training, I was made to join in celebratory drinks that went on for hours. There was no gentlemanly way to excuse myself without causing offense. You must believe I would have very much rather been with you than sit and watch Lord Gravenhurst and the chambermaid flirt with each other.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Lord Gravenhurst likes Constance?”
Finally, a break in her anger. “I’d say he more than likes her. Ask him about last night if you wish to confirm what I’ve said.” Gravenhurst could damn well claim he adored Constance to help soothe Madelaine.
She cleared her throat and smiled. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“Don’t be. I deserve your wariness.” He’d never been so happy for a woman’s smile than in this moment.
Stratmore slapped Grey on the back. “Her mother always jumped to conclusions as well. Maddie, you should have said something about this earlier. I’m sorry for being cross with you.”
“It’s fine, Father.” It didn’t sound fine. Her voice sounded strained, and she’d shifted away from her father. “I’m pleased you’re happy.”
“Of course I’m happy. Lord Grey is from a fine family. Tell me, Lord Grey, what do you plan to do in the future? Will you take a commission as the youngest son?”
