Vexing the Viscount

Middleton turned and stared at her. “It is not?”

“No,” Tia said again. “Why did you not take your maid with you when you married?”

“Mary?” Constance shrugged. “She and I had a falling out over a certain hairstyle I wanted. She thought it was inappropriate for a

soon-to-be-married woman. So I insisted Bunworth hire a new maid before I married him. Why?”

“Do you have any idea where she is?” Tia asked.

“Alistair told me she was in your home, Middleton.” She quirked a brow and looked over at Tia. “For her.”

“She was, but she left suddenly and with no notice. It was quite odd,” he replied.

“Hmm, no, I have not seen her.” Constance rose from her seat. “I really must ask that you take your leave now. I have to call on my mother.”

“Of course,” Middleton said as he rose. He gave her a quick bow. “Good day, madam.”

“Good day.”

Constance said nothing to Tia as she walked past. Tia stopped and said, “Good day, Lady Bunworth.”

“Good day, Miss Featherstone. And good luck getting that one to put a ring on your finger.”

Tia trailed behind Middleton, who seemed to be in a big hurry to leave his cousin’s home. Not that she could blame him. The woman was a witch. Tia scrambled into the carriage while Middleton followed her. “Well, that was fruitless.”

“Not at all. We know Jonathon was there last night and was lying to Constance about seeing me. We also know that Adams and Cranborne are both at White’s right now. They know we were speaking with Constance, so they will strike up a conversation with Bunworth.”

“Do you believe what she said about Mary?” Tia asked.

Middleton released a sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know. It doesn’t take much to get a maid sacked. Perhaps Alistair felt Mary wasn’t in the wrong, so he kept her on. I don’t know.”

“Something just doesn’t feel right,” she whispered.

“On that we can agree.”

She looked up to his handsome face and smiled. “Now what?”

“We go home and rest until Adams and Cranborne return.”

“I agree that you should rest, but is there nothing else we can do?” There had to be something. “Perhaps we could go to White’s—”

His loud laughter caught her off. “Sweetheart, we could never go to White’s.”

“And why exactly not?”

“Because you are a woman and White’s is strictly for men.”

“Oh.” She supposed she should have known that. But there weren’t any men’s clubs in the Midlands of which she was aware.

He squeezed her hand. “You wouldn’t have known that. I apologize.”

“How do people learn all this?” she asked quietly. Back home, she always felt quite intelligent. But here? She was completely ignorant of some of the most basic of information. She didn’t belong here. Perhaps it was time to accept that fact and return home.

“It’s no different than how you were raised.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were raised by a woman who made you read books on herbs, taught you how to set a bone, birth a baby, and help an elderly person pass comfortably to the afterlife. The women here are made to read Debrett’s to learn every peer’s name, how to converse about the weather, and other unimportant things so as not to look too intelligent in front of a prospective husband. Personally, I would rather have a conversation with you than any of the women of Society.”