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cheek.
    “Mother,” he said, inclining his head. “Did you sleep well?” He poured her a cup of chocolate while a footman filled her plate with bacon, ham, eggs, and toast. Which she wouldn’t eat one-quarter of.
    “Oh, I was up half the night reading Sense and Sensibility , worrying about those Dashwood girls. And then when I knew I simply must get some rest, there was nothing for it but to drink a glass of sherry. That made me sleepy.” She smiled charmingly at her son.
    He broached the topic he knew would be awkward for them both. “I ran into Hugh at the Mainwaring ball last night. What a shock that was.” He shot Deborah a sardonic glance.
    Her finely arched brows knitted. “I am sorry, Adam. I wanted to tell you he was in town, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it.”
    “At least he’s not staying here,” Adam said. When his mother, innocently sipping her chocolate, didn’t answer, he rattled his newspaper and said, “Mother?” using his most ominous tone of voice.
    “What? Oh, no, dear. He’s taken lodgings. You know I would never ask him to stay with us.”
    “But you did invite him to the dinner tomorrow night. Without checking with me first.”
    Deborah winced, sputtering a bit over her chocolate. “He is my son too, darling! And he wishes to be wed. I can’t help feeling that a wife might help him to control some of his…baser impulses.”
    “Just so. On the other hand, he could quickly bring his wife to ruin by subjecting her to the sort of thing you ran away from.”
    Deborah hung her head, and Adam immediately felt guilty about throwing that in her face. He knelt by her chair and put his arms around her. “There, there, Mother. Forgive me. It’s only that I cannot conceive of Hugh with a bride. I see only a life of misery for the poor girl.”
    Now his mother was crying, dash it all. Little sobs escaped her lips, and it was entirely his fault. “Don’t cry, Mother. You’re not to blame, after all.”
    “I should have stayed.” Gulp . “I could have provided a stabilizing influence.” Gulp . Hiccup . “But your father—”
    “Do not reproach yourself, Mother. You couldn’t have saved Hugh from taking up Father’s ways. God knows, I’m grateful you had the wits—and money—to escape.”
    Gradually Deborah’s sobs tapered off, and she dabbed at her eyes with a serviette. Adam returned to his chair and poured himself more coffee. “Father wants to see me. Did you know?”
    “Certainly not!”
    “Don’t fuss, Mother. I didn’t think you did.” Adam related the gist of his conversation with Hugh. “Care to hazard a guess?”
    “I haven’t spoken with your father in ten years, Adam. I’m afraid I can provide no enlightenment. But a word to the wise. Don’t be so foolish as to trust him. Whatever he wants will be in the guise of your best interests, but I’ve never known him to have anyone’s best interests at heart other than his own.”
    “Does he have a heart, then?” Adam lifted a corner of his mouth. “I’ve never been sure.”
    Deborah’s expression was pained. “A very black one, I’m afraid.”
    Adam took up his newspaper while his mother nibbled at her eggs and toast. “When is your meeting with Lord Linford?” Deborah asked between bites.
    “This afternoon. You did send round the dinner party invitations?”
    “Of course, dear. And we must decide whom to invite to the house party, as well.”
    Adam frowned. “House party?” What is she up to now?
    “I know we discussed it. A house party in Surrey would be quite the thing to…to become better acquainted with certain ladies. And you will need to have a presence in Haslemere, in any case.”
    “‘Better acquainted with certain ladies’? Really, Mother, even you can do better than that.”
    She raised a hand, placating him. “Never mind. We’ll discuss it later. Allow me to tell you who will attend the dinner.” When Adam nodded, she reeled off the list. “Viscount Linford,