Mrs. Renshaw continued. “Lord Gregory, allow me to present my dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Creighton of Threadbury Hall.”

Gregory bowed to Mrs. Creighton and offered his hand to her husband. “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I do apologize for not calling on you. You will likely know we have been in mourning.”

“Yes, of course,” Creighton said, inclining his head. His thinning brown hair was compensated by rather long sideburns. It reminded Gregory of something his father said, that if a gentleman found the hair on his head to be lacking, he could be assured of it growing excessively well somewhere else. “My condolences on the loss of your father.”

“Thank you. It was a shock, but we’re adjusting. Finally.” The months following his death had been awful, at least for Gregory. He’d been very close to their father. Far closer than Clifford had been.

Gregory realized it had been just two days ago, when he’d met Mrs. Renshaw and found Ash, that he’d at last felt somewhat like his old self.

“I take it you and Evie know each other from London?” Mrs. Creighton asked.

Evie. A charming, buoyant name that suited her perfectly. Her parents must have seen her spirit the moment she was born.

Blast it all, he was beginning to think like a romantic.

“Yes,” Mrs. Renshaw answered, since he was too busy generating silly thoughts. “We also encountered each other a few days ago—when I was out for a walk.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Creighton’s light-brown brows shot up as she glanced toward Mrs. Renshaw. Mrs. Creighton was clearly surprised, and Gregory found himself wondering why Mrs. Renshaw hadn’t told her about meeting him.

“Yes, they found the puppy together,” Creighton said to his wife. “Did I not mention that part?”

“You did not,” Mrs. Creighton murmured, appearing slightly perturbed. Recovering, she gave Gregory a pleasant smile. “I take it you are caring for the dog?”

“I am.” Since Mrs. Renshaw didn’t want to. Belatedly, he realized why she hadn’t wanted to take Ash with her—she was a guest in someone’s home.

“How lovely of you,” Mrs. Creighton responded.

Creighton clasped his hands behind his back. “I hope you heard about the dinner invitation I delivered to Witney Court. I spoke with Lady Witney briefly. I didn’t know you were in residence. I do hope you’ll come too.”

Gregory wasn’t entirely surprised that Susan hadn’t told him about it. Given her haughty attitude and condescension about their new neighbors, he wondered if she would even deign to go. He’d bloody well make her—and his brother—attend. “I’d be delighted. Remind me when it is?” He didn’t want to make it known that Susan hadn’t shared the invitation with him.

“Day after tomorrow. We wanted to welcome everyone into Threadbury Hall as we’ve made some refurbishments.”