Right Number, Wrong Girl

I was not going to fall for my mother’s matchmaking tricks. Not at this party—not at any party.

“As if I would interfere with your list,” I replied contritely.

“Hugo, you know what I’m asking.”

“Yes, Mother, I do, and my answer is still no. Has it occurred to you that I might be perfectly capable of pursuing a romantic relationship without your help?”

She turned and eyed me over the top of her teacup. Her blue gaze was equal parts amused and bemused as she sipped the hot liquid and set the cup down. “Yes,” she replied slowly. “Tell me again, are you seeing anyone right now?”

She knew damn well I was as single as single came.

“I am not.”

“Then might it be prudent for me to assume that you are not, as you so eloquently put it, perfectly capable?”

“Are you aware that thirty is no longer considered old? More to the point, I’m not a woman, and I’m not sure why you seem to think my reproductive system is running on the wrong side of time.”

“I’ve never said anything of the sort.”

“You found out Fred and Charlotte broke up and spent three days lamenting her potential inability to find a husband due to her age,” I reminded her.

Charlotte was younger than me.

“Perhaps you’d like to invite Charlotte.”

“I would rather have a sadistic kidnapper bend me over a piano and shove a cactus up my arse.”

“Must you be so crude?”

“Only when you continue to ask stupid questions,” I replied. “Mother, please give it up. This party is about Grandma, not my love life. Can’t you focus on Henry for once? He’s single, too, you know.”

“He’s not inheriting the dukedom, dear.”

“Words you shouldn’t say unless you’re entirely sure he’s not in earshot.”

“I agree,” the brother in question drawled as he walked into the kitchen. “Any chance you could keep that nugget to yourself, Mum?”

Mum blinked at Henry. “I’m sorry, dear, but I was merely making a point that it really is time for your brother to start thinking about the future.”

“Mum.” Henry flattened his hands on the island and looked at her. “I’m going to go out on a limb and suggest that Hugo knows what the future has in store. You remind him, oh, almost daily, and he’s already shoulder-deep in work on the estate. He knows he gets the dukedom. I know I don’t get it therefore am not as important as he is, but can you give it a rest?”

“I’ve never once said you’re not as important as your brother.”

“It’s the truth, though. When was the last time you set me up with anyone? Asked about who I’m seeing?”

I looked at Mum.

Good question.

Point to Henry.

Mum spluttered for a moment before she stood upright, bristling from his words. “I care about your life!”

That didn’t answer his question.

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Henry replied. “And you know it doesn’t.”

She sniffed. “I have to go and speak with Nancy about the party.”