Page 16 of The Lady Knows Best

“Are. You. Mad?”

For the second time that day, the disapproving voice of his best friend snatched Miles back from a dangerous precipice.

“Undoubtedly,” he replied, shaking off his untoward thoughts about Miss Burke. “But after all these years, Alistair, you shouldn’t sound so surprised. What did I do this time?”

“Were you not out here with a young lady, unchaperoned, practically in the dark?”

“I did tell you I was coming here tonight with the express intention of finding a wife,” he reminded him. “Perhaps I was just doing a bit of wooing.”

Alistair poorly disguised his laugh as a cough. “I beg your pardon. Did you say . . . wooing? Do you even know what that means?”

Miles humored him by appearing to give the matter some thought. Truth be told, he didn’t often have to exert much effort where women were concerned. “Let’s see,” he teased. “If I recall correctly, it has something to do with ravishing, seducing, debauching . . .”

“No.” Alistair shook his head, his lips curved in a half smile, half scold. “You’re thinking of ruining.”

I am.

“Wooing is respectful,” Alistair went on. “Respectable. Involving activities that can be carried on in public, in broad daylight.”

“Sounds dreadfully dull.”

Daphne Burke wasn’t, though. In those moments together on the dance floor, and then under the night sky, he’d glimpsed something vibrant inside her.

A pity he’d soon be married to someone else and wouldn’t get to see more.

“In any case, you needn’t worry,” he went on, ushering Alistair back toward the ballroom. “As it happens, Miss Burke has just such a degree of acquaintance with Miss Grey that makes her believe she can persuade my former betrothed to give me another chance.”

Alistair’s left eyebrow shot up. “So, I’m to believe the two of you were out here scheming together . . .”

“Now, now. You know I never scheme.” In truth, he was mostly too indifferent and usually too impulsive to bother. “Desirable opportunities just have a habit of falling into my lap.”

“I suppose that’s what happened with that charming actress last summer?”

“Exactly! And when opportunities fall into my lap, I make it a rule to seize them. So, you see—purely practical. A business arrangement. I certainly was not wooing Miss Burke.”

Alistair still looked skeptical, but his posture relaxed. “Speaking as your friend, I’d say that’s probably for the best. Knowing you, you’d likely find yourself at the business end of a dueling pistol before the week was out.” At Miles’s expression of confusion, he asked, “Didn’t you read that list I gave you?”

“I, er, didn’t have time to commit all the details to memory, I’m afraid.”

“Well, just in case, even if you don’t intend to woo her, you should know your Miss Burke is far from friendless, ” Alistair explained. “She is a niece of the Earl of Merrick. She also has two elder brothers. Now, the younger of them is a poet, so a suitor might be safe there. The older one, though—Paris Burke—is an MP, and notoriously hot tempered. Rumor has it he fought with the United Irishmen in ’98.”

After just one conversation with the man’s sister, Miles wasn’t exactly surprised to learn that a member of the Burke family had a rebellious streak.

“But really, it’s her brothers-in-law a fellow would have to watch out for,” Alistair continued. “The Marquess of Ashborough may be a family man now, but I daresay he’d be willing to make an exception for the pleasure of running through a rogue.”

He’d seen Ashborough at his club—Lord Ash, people still called him, though only when they were sure the man wouldn’t overhear.

“And as for the Duke of Raynham . . .”

They’d never been introduced, but Miles knew the stern-faced man by reputation. “Military type, yes?”

Alistair nodded grimly. “I believe the word you’re looking for is spy. I suspect he’s more than capable of dealing a death blow without any warning at all.”

Miles understood Alistair’s point in telling him. But it wasn’t the fierceness of her brother or brothers-in-law that ratcheted up Miles’s pulse.

It was hers.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Miles said again, clapping a hand on Alistair’s shoulder. “Miss Burke is—why, I suppose you could consider her something of a matchmaker. Nothing more.”