Page 43 of Miss Prim and the Duke of Wylde
Meg also noticed. “Good Lord!” she whispered. “Have they been here the whole time or just sneaked in?”
“I have no idea.” He’d been so engrossed in watching Meg handle the other guests, he hadn’t looked for anyone else.
Meg glanced at him. “No Thomas?”
Drago shook his head. “Thomas’s father was rather impecunious, and Thomas has to make his own way, so he’s a partner in a law firm in Lincoln’s Inn. At this hour, he’ll be in chambers.”
“Ah. I see.” Meg studied his face, then smiled. “There are several of my close acquaintances over there”—she pointed to a bevy of ladies of similar age to herself seated on a low stone wall—“who I would like to catch up with and who don’t need to have their tongues tied by your rakish presence.”
He grinned devilishly. “In that case, I’ll talk to George and Harry for a while.”
She laughed and flapped a hand at him, then headed for her friends.
Drago watched her go, then sauntered over to join Harry and George. “I didn’t expect to see you two here.”
“Lady Derby knows we’re friends of yours, so she sent invitations, and we thought we should come, in support as it were,” Harry explained. “But I say, it feels awfully dangerous being here.”
“Especially after the Devonshire ball.” George looked a touch grim. “The duchess insisted on introducing me to three young ladies, and”—he nodded in the direction Meg had gone—“two of them are over there.”
Drago fought to straighten his lips. “Well, you’re all the way over here, so safe enough for the moment.”
“Hmm.” George didn’t look entirely convinced, but he exchanged a meaningful look with Harry, who shrugged.
“Actually”—George turned to Drago—“as Harry said, we’re here in support, and in that vein, we thought we ought to mention…well, what we’ve observed.”
“As you might imagine,” Harry took up the explanation, “we’ve been watching you and Meg, and we’ve noticed something that you, being more caught up in the moment, might not have.”
“Oh? What’s that?” Drago didn’t need to feign interest.
“Well,” George said, “when meeting with others, you work together very well.”
“It’s almost like passing a baton back and forth,” Harry said. “One of you takes the lead, then hands the conversation on to the other.” Harry nodded across the lawn. “You were doing it before, even with your aunt.”
“The thing is,” George said, “as your friends, we feel…well, obliged to point out that Alison Melwin, lovely girl though she doubtless is, wouldn’t, simply wouldn’t have been able to…”
“Stand by your side like that.” Harry nodded in definite fashion. “Given the circles we three will be expected to join once we wed, then whoever you marry, it has to be someone like Meg.”
“Don’t forget that while, thus far, you’ve only had purely social events to contend with,” George went on, “you even more than we—at least not until we inherit the titles—will need to cope with the political sphere as well.”
“Heaven help you!” Harry muttered. “There’s always so much going on—spoken, unspoken, just simply understood, let alone subtly implied—that to manage in that arena, you will assuredly need some lady like Meg.”
Some lady like Meg.
That understanding had been coalescing in Drago’s brain over the past few days.
Along with the corollary.
Why not Meg?
Secure in the knowledge that his expression would reveal nothing of his thoughts, he slowly nodded. “You’re right.” Unbidden, his gaze shifted to the lady in the plum-colored dress who was sitting on the stone wall across the lawn. “In whatever comes, I will, absolutely and indubitably, bear that in mind.”
Unaware of Drago’s distant scrutiny, Meg had been drawn into a discussion of several charities currently in favor among the haut ton.
“You’re so lucky to be marrying a gentleman as well-heeled and also well-connected as Wylde,” Miss Stanhope earnestly told Meg. “You’ll be able to donate to any of the major foundations and, if you’re so inclined, take positions on their boards.”
Miss Cartwright nodded. “Mama is on the board of the local workhouse, but she says that without the weight of money and a noble title behind one, it’s difficult to push the administrators into improving conditions, even though the need is obvious to all.”
Miss Fitzgibbon was one to get stars in her eyes. “Just think of how much good you might be able to do!”
