The only man that came to Fiona’s mind was Tobias, but she couldn’t very well admit that the dowager’s grandson had caught more than her eye. He’d captured nearly every thought in her head. “No one in particular.”

“How can that be? I realize the Season is young, but you should have multiple suitors. You’re a beauty, despite that red hair, and my grandson tells me you are not empty-headed.”

Fiona stifled a laugh. She was willing to bet Tobias had not used that description. What had he said? That he would flatter her to his grandmother made her feel surprisingly wonderful. “Perhaps I’ve not been attending enough events.” She didn’t draw attention to the fact that Tobias had kept her from going out for a time.

“Well, I’m not convinced Lord Gregory is a suitable choice. While your pedigree is unremarkable, you have enough pleasing attributes, including a very generous dowry, to obtain a better match.”

What would be better than the second son of a marquess who was kind and charming? The same name as before came to mind, and Fiona shoved it away. A frustrated voice in the back of her head asked why, when that very gentleman had actually proposed.

Except he didn’t really want to marry her. Not for the right reasons anyway.

And it was his fault that she wasn’t enthused to wed Lord Gregory. Tobias was the one who’d put it in her mind that she shouldn’t settle for anyone other than the man of her dreams.

“Is there something wrong with Lord Gregory?” Mrs. Tucket asked with a touch of alarm in her voice.

“Wrong is not the right word,” the dowager said haughtily. “I am confident Miss Wingate can—and should—do better.” She directed her icy gray-blue gaze on Fiona. “You’ve still plenty of time left in the Season to make a match. I understand Lady Pickering is your sponsor. I will speak with her and, if necessary, take over myself. Matchmaking is an important task and should not be overlooked.”

Fiona thought of the match her cousin wanted to make and disagreed vigorously. Matchmaking should be completely abandoned. She did not voice that opinion, however. How on earth was she supposed to respond? She settled for, “Lady Pickering has been lovely.”

Mrs. Tucket’s brow creased, forming deep dimples just above the edge of her brows. “Would it be bad if she accepted Lord Gregory?”

Another lip purse from Lady Overton. “I am advising her not to accept Lord Gregory.” She turned her attention to Fiona once more. “My advice should not be ignored.”

This was all so odd. The dowager coming to London without advance notice. This audience in which she apparently wanted to stress the importance of matchmaking. Her stark lack of support for Lord Gregory, who seemed not only suitable but admirable.

What was going on?

The dowager abruptly stood. “Thank you for the enlightening conversation. If I was not fatigued from my journey, I would attend the assembly with you tonight. I will, however, accompany you to see Madame Moreau tomorrow evening.”