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“Not so surprising as you may think, my lady,” Benedict said, choosing to ignore her implied censure. “I have been required to return to Gloucestershire multiple times over the last many weeks. Indeed, I will be leaving Town again within a day or two.”

It was the first Henry had heard of the trip, but he couldn’t fault Benedict for contriving one. His brother was not one to ignore his parliamentary or social obligations, but the Dowager Lady Pendleton’s maneuverings fell firmly outside both of those spheres. If he wished to avoid any expectation for future interaction, Henry was quite happy to assist him. “My brother takes his responsibility of overseeing the working of his land and the lives of his tenants very seriously, my lady,” he said. “Unfortunately, the current parliamentary session is a difficult time for him to be in London, as it corresponds with lambing and calving season in Gloucestershire.”

“Nevertheless, I am quite sure Lord Benning has a steward to take care of such things,” she countered.

“Oh, he does,” Henry said. “And a mighty good one, at that. But he has often said that there is nothing quite so satisfying as being in the barn when the young animals first make their appearance.”

The elderly lady offered him a disbelieving look, her aquiline nose wrinkling with distaste as the swish of skirts heralded the arrival of another guest.

“Have a care for the Dowager Lady Pendleton’s sensitivities, gentlemen. I am quite sure she has no desire to hear of Benedict’s experiences delivering lambs.”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Henry’s lips broke into a wide smile. Aunt Millward. The lady was a breath of fresh air in a room full of stuffiness, and there was no one he would rather have join them this evening. He turned to face their new guest as Benedict greeted her with a polite bow.

“Good evening, Aunt Millward,” Benedict said.

Henry followed suit. “Good evening, Aunt.”

“Good evening to you both,” Aunt Millward said. “And to you, my lady.”

The Dowager Lady Pendleton barely acknowledged her greeting. The meddling woman’s previously skeptical expression had now become aghast. “Is it true, my lord? Do you regularly take upon yourself the work of a farm laborer?”

Benedict was doing an outstanding job of maintaining a solemn facade.

“If my spending time in the barn when my animals are in distress qualifies me for that appellation, then I am most certainly guilty as charged.”

The dowager marchioness raised her cane and took a step back. “You realize that such behavior is highly irregular and is not something that would be looked upon favorably by many within the ton.”

“As you say, my lady,” Benedict said, inclining his head in polite agreement. “But such is the price to be paid by a country gentleman, I fear.”

“Indeed.” The Dowager Lady Pendleton set down her cane again and leaned upon it. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, Lady Millward, I must ensure that Lady Aurelia is properly introduced to the other guests.” She swung around, all but running into someone standing directly behind her.

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” A dark-haired young lady wearing a white gown stumbled back a pace.

The Dowager Lady Pendleton eyed her with irritation. “I do not believe we have met.”

“No, my lady.”

Henry glanced at the newcomer, blinked, and looked again. Color had infused the young lady’s cheeks, but there was no mistaking her familiar profile. Notwithstanding the fact that he had spoken to her less than two days ago, he could offer no introduction.

“Miss Norton,” Aunt Millward said. “May I present the Dowager Lady Pendleton and my nephews, Lord Benning and Mr. Henry Buckland. Miss Norton is Lord Dunsbourne’s sister and sister-in-law to my niece, Lady Dunsbourne.”

Henry’s mind raced. He knew very little about Aunt Millward’s extended family, but he had met her brother’s daughters once, a few years past. The older one had married Lord Bloxley, he remembered. The niece she was referring to now must be the younger one.

Yet to face the two gentlemen, Miss Norton dropped into a curtsy. “I am honored to meet you, my lady.”

“Yes. Quite.” The older lady’s expression was inscrutable. “Lord Dunsbourne’s sister, you say?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“I knew your mother. News of her death came as a great shock.”

“Her passing was unexpected.” Regret tinged Miss Norton’s voice. “She died soon after my birth, but I have heard that she was a remarkable woman.”

“She was.”

The two words were the closest Henry had ever heard the Dowager Lady Pendleton come to issuing a compliment, but he sensed Miss Norton’s discomfort and felt it his duty to alleviate it. “How long do you plan to be in London, Miss Norton?” It was not the most engaging of questions, but given the shock he’d just received in seeing the young lady from the country lane standing in his drawing room, he considered it a praiseworthy accomplishment.

She turned from the Dowager Lady Pendleton to face him for the first time, and the color that had tinted her cheeks moments before drained away.