Page 49 of Deceiving an Earl
Oliver shot her another look that said if she persisted he would spill her secret. She simply smiled back.
“Fascinating is not good,” Nora said. “She completely stepped out of the norms of Society after Lord Fieldhurst passed away, with her salons and the people she chooses to keep company with.”
Josie shrugged. “I like her. And she seems to have the correct temperament for Oliver.”
Nora’s eyes narrowed on her daughter. “When have you met with, let alone conversed with, Lady Fieldhurst?”
Josie looked down at her plate and concentrated on her eggs. “She has a son,” she finally said.
Oliver’s head whipped around, and he glared at her. She refused to look at him.
“Notorious, too. You don’t want a wife who already has a son and a bad one at that. I hear he’s nothing but trouble.”
Oliver felt the need to defend Philip but kept his mouth shut. How in the hell had the conversation become so derailed?
“Just the other day you mentioned her as a possibility,” he said.
“I did? I don’t remember.” She sorted through the stacks of rejections.
“In your garden. You thought her acceptable then.”
“I changed my mind.” She waved her fingers in the air. “Too many bohemians and that son is no good.”
There were times he couldn’t follow his mother’s logic, and this time he let it go. It didn’t matter why she thought Ellen was not acceptable. He had his own reasons for not pursuing her.
“Aside from Lady Fieldhurst and Lady Sylvia, who else would be appropriate?” he asked.
Nora sat back and looked into the distance, apparently sifting through all of the eligible young ladies of theton.
“I’ll make a list,” she said. “This afternoon. We’ll discuss them tomorrow. Come by at the same time and we can have breakfast again.”
Oliver felt uncomfortable making a list of eligible young women. It wasn’t as if he were purchasing livestock. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Except he knew this was how it was done in houses throughout London. And he was certain he was on a few of those lists. It was the reason he avoided these social events. But if he wanted an heir—and a wife was a requirement for an heir—then he must do what they all did to procure one.
“Very well,” he said, wishing this whole thing done.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Josie said, standing hurriedly and throwing down her napkin.
“Is this a case you’re working?” she whispered as they walked through the foyer.
“Case?” His mind was still on the list.
“Are you spying on someone? Is that why you are suddenly going to balls?”
“What? No.” He shook his head. “Really, Jose.”
“I can’t think of another reason that you would want to attend a ball. You hate them.”
She was right. He did hate them, but he didn’t know how else to meet his bride.
“It’s time for me to get a wife, and this is how one gets one.”
“It sounds very unromantic.”
He thought so, too.
“I saw the way you looked at Lady Fieldhurst.”
They were at the door and he turned to her, his heart suddenly hammering. “And how was I looking at Lady Fieldhurst?”
