When You're Desired by Tamara Lejeune Page B

hundred thousand, someone will marry her, but it will not be anyone we know.”
    â€œFortunately, the Duke of Berkshire has no need to marry for money,” Dorian said coldly.
    â€œNo indeed,” she said. “But I did think I ought to just let her try. However, it’s clearly no good. We must cut our losses and move on.”
    Dorian stretched out in one of the chairs beside the fire. “Who is next on the list?”
    â€œLady Rowena West. Pretty girl, just seventeen, quiet and pretty-behaved. Her father is the Earl of Ambersey. Her fortune is but twenty thousand pounds, but I understand there is a grandmother who might do something for her if she marries well.”
    â€œDo you not think, Mama, that it would be better if I—if I were to choose my own wife this time?” he said.
    â€œDorian! You do not know what you are saying,” she protested. “Choose your own wife! My dear! That is how mistakes are made.”
    â€œYou chose my first wife,” he said quietly.
    She bristled. “That was not my fault. Her family concealed from me the fact that she was sickly. If I had known she enjoyed poor health—”
    Dorian held up his hand. “It’s no one’s fault, Mama. I don’t blame you. I simply want the freedom to choose my own wife in my own time. I would never marry to disoblige you, if that is what you fear. You want a daughter-in-law of large fortune and good breeding. I want delicacy of mind and sweetness of temper. I want good health and—and laughter. I want conversation. I want a companion, not—”
    â€œA moment, please,” she said, stopping him while she took out a clean sheet of paper. “You were saying?” she prompted, her pen poised over the page.
    Dorian sighed.
    She set down her pen. “You are tired, my darling. Go to bed. Tomorrow we will begin again. We’ll call on Lady Rowena, shall we? I’ll send a note to her mama in the morning to make certain she is kept home for you in the afternoon.”
    Dorian grimaced. “Seventeen? What have I to say to a child of that age? Don’t any of these girls have elder sisters?”
    The duchess recoiled. “Elder sister!” she repeated indignantly. “We need not settle for that. My dear Dorian, if a girl is not snapped up by the end of her first season, then there is something wrong with her. If you do not find someone soon, and fix your interest, all the good ones will be taken.”
    Dorian rubbed his eyes wearily.
    â€œOf course we need not call on Lady Rowena tomorrow, if you do not wish to,” she said hastily. “I can arrange for you to meet her at Lady Torcaster’s ball on Saturday, if you prefer. I am sure she has been invited. If not, I can arrange that, too.”
    He shrugged. “Frankly, I’d rather be down at Ashlands for the foaling.”
    His mother looked at him for a moment. “You are tired,” she said gently. “Perhaps we have been concentrating too hard on the business of finding you a wife. You are a bundle of raw nerves. You need to relax. A man must think of pleasure as well as duty, after all. Why don’t you ask Miss St. Lys to dine with you tomorrow night?”
    Dorian started in his chair. “Mama!” he said, blinking at her in astonishment.
    â€œWhat?” she replied, looking back at him frankly. “You have to see her tomorrow, anyway, to give her the ten pounds I promised to her for her foundlings.”
    â€œI thought I would send it.”
    â€œSend it! Don’t be silly. She expects you to bring it to her. She wants you to. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have given us her direction. Eighty-one Curzon Street.”
    â€œEight-four,” he corrected her unthinkingly.
    She smiled triumphantly. “There! I knew you liked her. Indeed, who would not like her? She is beautiful, charming, spirited . . . In a perfect world, she would be the heiress with three