An Experienced Mistress by Bryn Donovan Page A

kind of you.”
    Will hesitated. Then he noticed that Coventry watched him as if he sensed Will was reluctant to discuss it.
    “Yes,” he said to the lady’s father. “My congratulations on your daughter’s marriage. I’m sure she’ll be very happy.”
    “I suppose she might,” Mr. Tudbury muttered. He took off his spectacles and cleaned them with one of the cloth napkins. Will saw for the first time that his eyes were red—either from too much drink or too little sleep, or possibly both.
    Coventry smiled wryly. “You sound unconvinced, sir.”
    “What’s that?” Mr. Tudbury put his spectacles on again. “Oh, well, he’s not all bad.”
    Will wasn’t sorry to hear this less-than-ringing endorsement of Violet’s husband. Still, he wondered why Mr. Tudbury discussed it with him.
    “I should not be saying this, maybe, Will, but my wife and I always hoped—” He shook his head and took a swig of port. “Ah, never mind, it’s foolish.”
    “No, what is it?” Coventry encouraged him.
    “Well, I think we always hoped that Will might marry Violet, to be honest. He’s just the kind of young man I would like to have for a son-in-law, and I don’t mind saying it. Intelligent, strong, sensible...and now a war hero, as well! Fine moral character...would you not say so, Mr. Moore?”
    “Oh, yes,” Coventry said, as if he’d not just heard all about Will’s wanton new mistress. “But not so moral as to be dull, mind you.”
    “Yes, that’s exactly it! ‘Not so moral as to be dull...’ that’s very well put, Mr. Moore. That is exactly what I mean.”
    Now it was clear to Will that Mr. Tudbury was drunk. In a lifetime of knowing his father’s friend, he’d never seen the man have more than a glass or two.
    “Yes, Will was always a fine young man...once he outgrew throwing cherries, that is.” The man chuckled and coughed. “I do have my regrets, regarding this fellow with Vy. I know I should not say it, but you gentlemen can keep a confidence, can’t you?”
    “Of course,” Coventry said. “We are all friends here.”
    “Well, her new husband is not the brightest gas lamp on the square, if you take my meaning. But he is rich, so that’s some consolation. He’s rich beyond belief, to tell the truth.”
    “That is certainly a virtue in his favor,” Coventry commented.
    “In my daughters’ favor, more like...both of my daughters, I mean. We scarcely settled anything on Violet. Didn’t need to, this fellow didn’t care. So now Daisy will have forty thousand a year, when she marries.”
    Good God. Will’s mind went back to his idle thoughts, a few days earlier, of marrying Daisy or some proper girl just like her. Coventry looked surprised, probably both at the sum Mr. Tudbury named, and also at the fact that he’d named it.
    “Isn’t she coming out this Season?” Will asked her father. “The poor girl will be hounded to death.”
    “Indeed. She already has a couple of enterprising admirers, to tell the truth.”
    Will imagined young men paying visits, ostensibly to Mr. and Mrs. Tudbury, in hopes of getting a word or two with the daughter.
    “But enough of that,” Mr. Tudbury said. “I did not come over to discuss the likes of them.” He smashed out the last of his cigar. “Willy, Edith and I are wondering when you might like to come to dinner. This Saturday, perhaps? Very informal, don’t you know. Violet and her husband will be entertaining on their own, in Belgrave Square, but Daisy will be there.”
    Will remembered again that he might have inadvertently hurt the younger Miss Tudbury’s feelings, the day he called. If he came to dinner, he could make it clear to the girl that he hadn’t meant any offense. Even accepting the invitation would make that plain.
    “I should be delighted.”
    “Excellent,” Mr. Tudbury rasped, and then succumbed to another convulsion of coughing.
    “So shall you be taking up residence in Somerset, after the Season is over?”
    “Yes. I may