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Eunice glanced at Mary from the mirror. When she spoke, her tone was as dry as dust. “It is a little difficult to do that when almost every Season you’ve had has been either interrupted or cancelled by someone’s illness, death, or harassment.”

“I suppose you have a point. I shall learn. I must if I am to have a Season.”

Eunice turned to face Mary. “You have a great deal of common sense. Do not allow yourself to be led astray by fanciful thoughts or desires, and all will be fine. When it comes to selecting a husband, my only advice is to follow your head as well as your heart.” Her aunt rose.

“Let us go. Mr. Doust is joining us for dinner.”

Mary linked her arm with Eunice’s. “I’m surprised you are encouraging him.”

A sly smile graced Eunice’s lips. “I think I may have been mistaken about how easily he shocks. ”

That could only mean one thing. A chill ran down Mary’s spine. Soon the whole world would know, and she’d be ruined. “You told him!”

“He realized at once that you did not recognize Mr. Featherton until I said his name. Don’t worry. He is still the rector. He’ll not tell anyone.”

This situation was untenable. Mary chewed on her bottom lip. “Entirely too many people know already.”

The more people who knew, the harder it was to keep a secret. One that would ruin her.

As Lady Mary fled down the corridor, Kit groaned. That was not well done of him. He should have known she might see him. His behavior had always been above reproach. Unlike some of his friends, young ladies hadn’t even attempted to trap him, simply because no one would believe he’d misbehaved.

Still, when Mary had stared at his chest, his partially bare chest, his body reacted as it never had before.

He’d wanted to crow when desire lurked for a moment in her lovely silver eyes.

Or had it been fear? Damn. This would not do.

Their position was untenable enough without him lusting after her.

He’d have a word with Piggott. Another post-bath chance meeting must not happen again .

. . at least not until they were married; then, he hoped, she’d consent to bathe with him.

Kit stepped into the drawing room a moment before the rector was announced and shown in. He wondered if Doust dined here on a regular basis or if he had been invited because of Kit. “Good evening. I was about to pour”—he glanced at the sideboard—“a glass of sherry. Will you join me?”

The rector inclined his head. “I’d be happy to.”

He motioned the other man to one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, taking the one across from it for himself. “Shall I take it you wish to discuss my presence?”

“I think I have already figured out the truth of it.” Doust grinned. “I won’t let the cat out of the bag, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Interesting. “Pray continue.” Kit cocked a brow. “Other than knowing Lady Mary’s grandmother is involved, I am at sixes and sevens.”

The man settled back, crossing his legs. “It all seemed a bit strange to me, at first, when the ladies arrived.” Doust took a sip of sherry. “Yet for at least a month beforehand, the servants had been talking about their arrival and the new servants who were expected. ”

Kit had to force himself not to interrupt with questions.

“The scheme,” Doust continued, “had apparently been well planned to appear completely natural, and, by the time the ladies reached Rose Hill, it did. Until to-day when you arrived, and I could see Lady Mary had no idea who you were at first, I believed what the rest of the area did.”

“And that was?” Kit sipped his sherry, wishing it were brandy.

“That you had married, there was a falling out of some sort, and you sent her to your northernmost property. As far away from London as possible.”

“Damn. No wonder the servants and townspeople are all suspicious of me.” Doust studied him as he took another sip of sherry. Kit took a much larger one. Did this house have no brandy? He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what was next. “Continue, please.”

“Once you got a look at Lady Mary, you appeared to know her.”

“Yes. I remembered her quite well. Though she did not appear to remember me much at all.” He grimaced. That had been a blow to his pride. “But considering I spent most of my time doing the pretty with other young ladies and watching her from afar, I should not be amazed.”

Doust’s eyes widened a bit. “You surprise me, sir. I have heard your address is excellent. You are the prize every hostess wants at her entertainments.”

“Ah, yes”—Kit saluted the rector with his glass—“but I have also been, shall we say, marriage shy.”

“And Lady Mary was too much temptation.”

He clung to as much dignity as he could under the man’s scrutiny and inclined his head. “In my defense, I was barely eight and twenty, but you have the right idea.”

“And now?”

He took another drink. “Now I am commanded to marry, and the only woman who has ever inspired me with the least desire to join my wedded brethren is Lady Mary. She has been on my mind a great deal of late. Though, I must admit, I did not expect to meet her here.”

That was either a blessing or a curse. He just wished he knew which.

Doust drained the glass then set it down. “Fencing with you is entertaining, but may I be blunt?”

Kit tossed off his sherry, then poured two more. “I wish you would. It would help to finish this conversation before the ladies are down.”

“I wish to marry Lady Eunice, and she will not do so until Lady Mary is settled. Do you know who the grandmother is?”

That was what he should be applying his mind to, rather than Lady Mary’s charms. “Lady Mary’s surname is Tolliver.

I cannot remember if her paternal grandmother is still living, but her maternal grandmother is the Dowager Duchess of Bridgewater”—he slammed the glass down on the small side table, sloshing the liquid.

Damnation! —“one of my Grandmother Featherton’s oldest friends, and Lady Bellamny with them! I have been played for a fool.”

“You’re not the only one. While Lady Eunice and I strolled in the gardens to-day, she finally took me into her confidence.” Doust leaned back in his chair. “Lady Mary has no idea of the scheme either.”

Being in hiding as she had been, she most likely didn’t even know of their grandmothers’ friendship. Kit was not looking forward to her finding out, and he certainly was not going to be the one to tell her. She would have to figure that out for herself.