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Reading his mind again, his mama sighed. “When was the last time you did anything daft just for the sheer joy of it, darling?”

“Er…” Guy racked his brains and came up empty. “I do plenty of things that I enjoy. I ride. I read. I…” Good grief—was he really that boring? “I love to learn and I continually expand my mind. I exercise. I relish good food and occasional good company and—”

“Listen to yourself! You sound like a man in his dotage, making do with his pipe and slippers, and not one in his prime living his life to the fullest like your father used to. There is no excitement in your life, Guy. No joie de vivre . No passion. No silliness. Not a single sparkle resides in your eyes anymore when they used to dance like his did. Every day is the same. Your routines have become so entrenched, your life so isolated and safe and predictable, I wonder how you can stand it.”

Pride made him rail against that despite knowing she had called his situation correctly.

“I’ll have you know that I indulged in a reckless and mad gallop through Hyde Park only yesterday, just for the sheer fun of it.

” Sort of. And had almost got himself killed in the process.

“It was most exhilarating.” If being thoroughly shown up and then dressed down by a harpy in breeches could be considered exhilarating.

It had been… extraordinary, however. Enough that he wasn’t fully over it yet.

Or her.

There had been so many sparks in that hellion’s exceptionally fine but condescending cornflower eyes that she had positively crackled. So bursting with joie de vivre and passion, she could barely contain it all as she had galloped off. Good grief, but he envied her that!

“When was the last time that you laughed? Danced? Took a risk? Grabbed the bull by the horns and indulged your wild side.”

“I don’t have a wild side.”

“You used to.”

As Guy really didn’t want to think about the gullible, reckless fool he had been back in the day, he rolled his eyes as if he were the disapproving parent instead. “Thankfully, like the pimples I also used to suffer from, I quickly grew out of it.”

“By withdrawing into yourself and pushing people away.”

“I do not push—”

“You have become the archetypal lion with a thorn in its paw. Unsociable and withdrawn. Intractable and ill-tempered. And when you use that volatile temper of yours, you lash out and alienate people. You are so unforgiving.” More home truths that were difficult to swallow.

He preferred to think of himself as no-nonsense but some of his behavior in Hyde Park yesterday still bothered him.

That Valkyrie might not have been using the bridle path as she was supposed to, but they had both been galloping recklessly.

Yet he’d immediately lashed out because he had been embarrassed.

He’d fallen on his arse right in front of her and the humiliation of that indignity alone had caused him to lose all sense of perspective and reason.

He could and should have handled the whole affair differently.

Been more gracious. Nobody had died and she had brought his blasted horse back, after all.

Knowing what an unpredictable handful Zeus was, at the very least he should have thanked her for risking her neck to go fetch him despite the fact that the hellion had almost broken his by knocking him off his horse.

But he hadn’t thanked her, he’d bellowed in her face, and that shamed him when his father had raised him to be a gentleman.

Which was probably why he couldn’t stop thinking about her…

“All I am asking for is the chance to throw my beloved son one little party.” His mother rubbed her chest again as if she were indeed in pain. Certainly pained enough that the actual state of her health needed some thorough investigating. “For a milestone birthday, is that really too much to ask?”

Was she really ill or manipulating him?

He suspected the latter, because experience had taught him that that was what most women did. His mother had always been adept at twisting both him and his dearly departed father around her little finger when she wanted something, but he could not bear the thought of the former being true either.

Guy knew the voice screaming at him in his head was right, but the guilt from her sudden paleness had him tied in knots. “You know I loathe London.”

“Then forget I even mentioned London, darling! Let’s agree on a compromise and hold the party here instead.”

“Well… I…” Why the blazes had he stupidly made this all about London? “There is the harvest—”

“Don’t I deserve a little happiness? I so love planning a party.

It would remind me of all the joy I had planning parties with your father.

You won’t have to lift a finger. I’ll do everything and will make sure that nothing interferes with all the important work you have to do here, I promise.

” She looked so happy and hopeful it was killing him.

“Please say yes as this is such short notice I will need to get the invitations out immediately or they won’t arrive in time for people to come! ”

It really was short notice, so hopefully that would prevent his mother’s plans from getting out of hand.

Everyone who was anyone was rusticating in their own country estates before the next season started again with a vengeance.

As those estates were dotted across the entire British Isles, it was unlikely that many would be prepared to travel all the way to Kent just for one evening.

Surely that would work in his favor? “I suppose if the guest list was small, a tiny party here wouldn’t—” He didn’t even get to finish that sentence because his mother leapt from her seat, clapping her hands, and dashed around the table to hug him and smother him in sloppy kisses.

“Thank you, Guy! Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!” She squeezed his cheeks together like she used to do when he was a boy, instantly as hale and hearty again as she had seemed yesterday. “A party here will be more than perfect!”

“A small party, Mother.” Experience told him that he had to set the strictest boundaries despite the scant three weeks’ notice.

She had the reputation for moving mountains when she set her mind to something, and he was already regretting this.

“Nothing elaborate and for no more than say…” Oh good grief, what had he done!

This was a mistake. A huge mistake. Perhaps his biggest in nine bloody years! “Twenty guests maximum.”

That earned him the look . The one that she had used when she thought he was talking gibberish. “Twenty is a dinner, darling. A party starts at forty.”

“How about we split the difference then, and agree on thirty? One guest for each of my years on this earth.” But his dear mama was now a woman on a mission and he was already talking to her back while she practically sprinted from the room.

Leaving Guy all alone with his growing indigestion, a large dollop of remorse, and an escalating feeling of dread.

What the hell had he done?