He yawned, it had been a late night and he had not yet been to bed. The black crow was staring at him expectantly; he’d get no peace until he agreed.

“I shall do as you suggest.”

The elderly lawyer beamed. “I should be happy to arrange for you to meet suitable young ladies, there are several debutantes who would be ideal.”

God’s teeth! “I shall do my own selecting, Dewberry.” He raised one eyebrow. “I do not expect my search to become common gossip.”

The man coloured. “Of course not, your grace. Anything that is said in my chambers remains confidential. However, your appearance at Almacks …”

“Almacks? I’d rather have my teeth pulled them go there. I shall attend a few functions and see for myself what is on offer.”

He strode from the office determined to get away from Town. Whatever Dewberry said matchmaking mamas would soon be on the lookout. He didn’t want to go to Newcomb, he would go to Norfolk and do some shooting. Keep his head down until he was obliged to appear in public when the Season started in March. He’d find a few cronies to accompany him, there were always fellows willing to follow his lead as long as he picked up the bill.

*   *   *

Norfolk

Lady Isobel Drummond stormed out of the library. To be ignored by her parents unless they required her assistance with her many younger siblings was one thing, to be told it was her duty to marry a wealthy man in order to save the family from ruin was quite another.

Gathering her dogs from the kitchens she snatched up her cloak and pushed her feet into the wooden clogs she used for gardening. She had to get out, get away from the house, give herself time to recover her composure. She paused, she would dearly love to run upstairs and change into her habit. A wild gallop across the Fens was exactly what she needed, but that would mean risking meeting her weeping mother and furious father. No, far better to walk.