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her in her quest. She was insufferable and Rand sorely wanted to throttle Cecelia for making the suggestion. If Miss Corsairs set her cap in his direction, life would be most unpleasant.
    Mirabella looked doubtful. “That may be the case, dear, but there are other young ladies who might better suit Lord Clarendon. I don’t mean to be unkind but Miss Corsairs is not the most agreeable young lady.” She thought for a moment then perked up. “The Mitchell’s are having a house party in a few weeks and there are certain to be a number of young ladies there. I’ll let Lady Mitchell know you’re here, and you’ll be certain to receive an invitation.”
    Rand ground his teeth and nodded. “It’s very kind of you to be concerned, but I had planned to postpone my search until I return from the Clarendon estates in Devon. I would like to know what I can offer my future bride, before I do so. If you will forgive me, I’m afraid I must be off. I’ve not been to Bryony Hall yet.”
    “Of course. You must come for dinner once you’ve settled in.”
    “I shall look forward to it.” He rose and took Mirabella’s hand. “Until then, my lady.”
    She inclined her head and fluttered her lashes. “My lord.”
    He turned to Cecelia. “If you don’t mind, Lady Cecelia, would you be so kind as to walk with me a few minutes. I’m thinking of purchasing a pony for my niece and I wanted your opinion.”
    She stood and smiled sweetly. “Of course. I would be happy to.”
    When they reached the corridor, he grabbed her arm and hissed, “Miss Corsairs, indeed! You’ve done it now, brat!”
    She blinked innocently and asked, “You don’t care for Miss Corsairs? Why ever not? She’s perfectly respectable.”
    “Because she’s a tongue like a viper, and a face like a prune.”
    “How unkind of you,” she chided. “I thought you above such remarks.”
    “I’ve never skirted the truth.”
    “Really? That shade of red is very becoming on you,” she mimicked.
    Before he could respond, the sound of canine panting and grunting reached their ears and a plump chamber maid rounded the corner with a small, beribboned long-haired gray and tan terrier tucked beneath each arm.
    “Oh, milady. Sir,” she squeaked, caught up in the dilemma of trying to curtsy without dropping the dogs, who were now barking and wriggling in excitement over a new human to greet.
    “You must pet their heads, else they will never cease barking,” Cecelia informed Rand. When he made no move to do so, she added, “Are you afraid of dogs? I promise they won’t bite you.”
    He scowled at her. “That wasn’t my concern, and you well know it. I’d prefer not to be drooled on and they seem to be doing a bang up job of slobbering all over the place.” He gave each dog a perfunctory pat on the head and muttered, “That had best do it because that’s all you bloody beasts are getting from me.”
    “Athena’s breeding,” Cecelia said as they continued down the corridor. “Would you care for one of her puppies? I’m certain Aunt Mirabella would be happy to grant you pick of the litter.”
    “Gad, no,” he said in horror. “Dogs are meant to retrieve birds, hunt squirrels and fox and round up sheep. Not grow ridiculously long hair, wear hair ribbons and be carried about like a baby.”
    “Very well.” She sighed. “But don’t let it be said that I didn’t offer. Now, what was this about a pony for your niece?”
    “I’ve no intention of purchasing a pony for my niece, at the moment. She’s barely a year old. She’d fall and break her little neck.”
    Her eyes widened. “So you lied to me? Shame on you my lord. Another falsehood. And I thought you never skirted the truth. Your good intentions and breeding have failed you.”
    “Would you please stop turning my words around on me?