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next weeks.”
    Morrison’s gaze moved so that he was staring blankly out the window. “If the girl takes a dislike to you, there would be no marriage.”
    Was the valet suggesting that Dominic deliberately alienate Lady Meriel? Apparently. “I cannot make so important a decision for my brother.”
    Morrison’s gaze dropped, possibly with a hint of disappointment.
    The breakfast bell rang. Warfield was a great house for bells. As Dominic went downstairs, he wondered if the ringing was done to summon Lady Meriel for meals. He’d noticed that the bell rang outside as well as in the house.
    Of course, summoning her didn’t mean that she’d come. The two widows were already seated in the breakfast room, so Dominic greeted them, then helped himself to the dishes on the sideboard. As he piled thinly sliced ham on his plate, he said, “It appears that Lady Meriel has taken me in dislike. Or is she always absent for so long?”
    “She does seem to be avoiding you,” Mrs. Rector said apologetically. “She is often shy of strangers.”
    That was an understatement. “Might she stay in hiding until I leave?”
    Mrs. Marks said with reluctance, “That could happen.”
    “Perhaps I should organize a hunt with beaters to drive her into the open like a pheasant,” he said dryly as he seated himself at the table.
    Absolutely not. Mrs. Rector’s head shot up, a fierceness in her eyes that was at odds with her gentle features. “Oh. I see that you’re joking.”
    Yes, but if he had to wait days for an elusive madwoman to appear, a hunt would start seeming like a good idea. “Do you have any suggestions for how I might find her?”
    Mrs. Marks thought about it. “She spends almost all her time in the gardens, though they are so large she could avoid you for days. Warfield has always been famous for its gardens. Every generation has added to them. To find Meriel, you might try watching the tree house. I believe she sleeps there when she isn’t in the house.”
    “Ask Kamal,” Mrs. Rector suggested. “He would have the best idea of where to find her. Look for him in the garden sheds after breakfast.”
    Kyle had mentioned an Indian servant. “Kamal is a gardener?”
    Mrs. Rector nodded. “He supervises everything to do with the gardens, because he is the only one who understands what Meriel wants.”
    Dominic’s brows arched. “So she has opinions about her plants?”
    “Oh, yes. When she was small, she would have tantrums if the old head gardener did things she didn’t like.” She cut a neat piece of coddled egg. “Eventually we let him go and put Kamal in his place. Besides supervising the garden staff, he is our liaison to Mr. Kerr, the steward who runs the home farm and supervises the tenants. I don’t know what we should do without Kamal.”
    Dominic frowned at the mention of tantrums, but there was a positive aspect to what Mrs. Rector had said. “If Lady Meriel has preferences for her garden, she can’t be entirely mindless.”
    “Even a dog will get angry if its routine is changed,” Mrs. Marks pointed out. “Her preferences are often… very strange. More proof of her madness, I fear.” Her gaze went to the wilting centerpiece, which looked even more grotesque this morning.
    Each new piece of information made Lady Meriel sound more hopeless. Repressing a sigh, Dominic got directions to the garden sheds and set out to find them after breakfast. A door at the back of the house opened onto a broad stone patio with steps descending to the parterre he had seen from above. To his left, a large, glassed-in conservatory was attached to the back of the house. Making a note to investigate the conservatory later, he strolled through the parterre. A pair of peafowl were drinking from the fountain in the center. The cock gave Dominic a beady-eyed stare, then spread his shimmering tail in a way that said, “Top this?‘ The hen contented herself with an ear-splitting screech. With a smile, Dominic went around