Corrected him, rather.

“Do you know the insult my butler will suffer if I impugn his integrity?” Rex paused to take another sip of tea rather than launch into a lecture of his own. Mrs. Hatfield could not possibly grasp the delicate workings of a large, wealthy domicile. “An affronted butler can set off a cascade of burned toast, sour wine, feuding housemaids, and warring footmen. The upheaval would rival the English civil wars.”

Mrs. Hatfield’s eyebrows were her most interesting feature. Most people’s eyebrows were not perfectly symmetric. Hers were two exactly matched swoops that added elegance to the intelligence in her gaze.

Why had such a woman—competent, well mannered, even pretty—no husband? She hadn’t said she was widowed, simply that she had no husband.

“Your Grace, please attend me.”

He glanced up to find her gaze had grown quite severe. “You have my undivided attention.” And you have eyes that should not be hidden behind a pair of spinsterish spectacles.

“You observe that you have no privacy, and yet, if I asked you which clubs your cousins belong to, could you tell me? If I asked you which tailors, modistes, or bootmakers they use, would you know?”

“Not in the usual course.” Howell and James favored Hoby boots, but then, most of fashionable London did. Rex had sponsored James for membership at some club or other—the Explorers, or was it the Charitable Knights?

“Nonetheless,” Mrs. Hatfield said, “those cousins all know your movements, your preferred merchants, your schedule, your clubs. Your servants know details far more personal than those. People who have less, who are less, keep a close eye on people who have more. Children are more observant about adults than conversely. Women are vigilant regarding the actions of men because we have to be. The same is not true in the opposite direction, not in any flattering sense.”

Her words resonated with Rex’s experience and, more than that, organized a vague sense of frustration into cause and effect. He had responsibility—he had power—but not privacy. When had he chosen to strike that bargain with life? Had he even had a choice?

“You are saying whoever is fleecing me has had long acquaintance to learn my habits. That describes most of my staff.”

She folded her arms. “And all of your family.”

Rex sketched the curve of her jaw, which angled cleanly, then flowed into a firm chin. “There, I must protest, madam. You will not impugn the honor of my family again, lest you inspire me to a display of temper.” Not that he’d had any such displays since the age of about, oh, six?