Page 37 of The Duke's Carriage Window
“Do you think Felix may be taken with Meredith?” They leaned closer to talk, staring at the pair in conversation. Darius didn’t answer but merely grunted.
“I think she could be a rather lovely wife for a marquess,” Suzannah said thoughtfully, as if his grunt had been a sufficient answer to continue the conversation.
“I did not have you set as a matchmaker, my little artist,” Kit teased his wife, having eavesdropped on their whispered conversation.
Darius took a long draw from his wineglass. He did not want to imagine Meredith and Felix together, not like that. Felix was always ready to run off on any adventure. He was not the sort of man to settle down and enjoy quiet breakfasts on the back terrace or sip brandy in the evenings by the fire and read in companionable silence. No, Felix and Meredith simply wouldn’t suit each other.
“Felix is too wild for her,” Darius said to Suzannah. “And Kit is right, you do not strike me as a matchmaker.”
“No,” Suzannah agreed with a solemn look. “But Meredith needs a good match, and as her new friend, I want to see this accomplished.”
Darius did adore Suzannah’s fierce loyalty, but the thought of Meredith marrying and leaving soon left him restless. She didn’t have to marry so quickly, did she? Surely she could take a year before she had to decide.
It was a myth that women needed to marry so young, after all. Many ladies of his acquaintance waited until they were twenty-three or twenty-four before choosing a husband. Silly fears of becoming spinsters aside, most women smartly gave themselves a few years to experience life before tying themselves to a husband. Meredith deserved the same. He certainly wouldn’t force her to choose quickly… or at all if fate would allow it.
It’s not as though I have a claim to her…he admitted to himself silently.
A few stolen kisses, a few moments of joy … That was all he could have, and he shouldn’t even have had that.
“Promise you will not rush her in making a decision,” Darius said to Suzannah. “She’s bound to match poorly if she chooses in haste.”
“I won’t. Of course I won’t,” Suzannah assured him. Tactfully changing the subject, she said, “Mrs. Petersham seems quite lovely. I think we did rather well.”
“I agree. Meredith seems to blossom around her.”
Kit chuckled as he cut into his roast duck. “Blossom?”
Heat suffused Darius’s face. “You know what I mean. The woman seems to put Meredith at ease, and she’s come out of her shyness a bit as a result.”
From further down the table, Lionel asked, “I say, Darius, where’s Warren?”
“He is seeing to a personal matter for me.”
Lionel arched a brow. “What sort of personal matter?” Clearly, the word private did not apply to his friends. But he trusted them with most everything.
“Well, he?—”
He was interrupted as Mr. Chelsea stepped into the dining room. “Mr. Burville has arrived, Your Grace.”
Vincent chuckled. “Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”
“Does he wish to join us for dinner?” Darius asked.
“I believe so.” Chelsea replied.
“Show him in when he’s ready,” Darius replied.
“Well, this is all very mysterious,” Vincent mused as he and the others waited for Warren to join them.
A minute or so later, Warren entered the dining room. He made a hasty apology for his attire. It was clear that he had been riding and hadn’t had time to change. Warren glanced around at everyone before he took a seat at the table.
“Well? What did you find out?” Darius prompted.
Warren took a long drink of wine before he spoke, and Darius stared at him growing a little impatient.
Finally, Warren spoke. “Crell traveled alone to a coaching inn about an hour outside of London. He met a woman there, I thought was Mrs. Crell. I thought you said the woman was an invalid?”
“She is. She can walk, but prefers to use an invalid chair,” said Darius.
