“That’s probably well and good,” she said. “Best to take your time with finding the right countess.” She smiled serenely. “When more people come to town, you’ll have an even wider selection of potential brides.”

He didn’t disagree, but he didn’t have the benefit of time. Nor did he like the idea of the Marriage Mart where he browsed young ladies like horses at Tattersall’s. Furthermore, he’d done that two years ago, and the results had been disastrous.

“I’m not sure I care to participate in the full-fledged Marriage Mart. Better to settle on someone soon, I think.”

“Settle? My lord, that doesn’t sound romantic at all. Surely you wish to feel something for your wife? Another reason to take your time, to allow emotion to root and bloom and flourish.”

He nearly laughed at her word choice, even as her perspective hit him square in the chest. He didn’t love Miss Goodfellow. Not yet anyway. “You’re using a flower analogy.”

“Oh dear, does that count as an F?” she asked in mock horror.

“I’ll allow it. And you’ll have to tell me about your Shropshire flowers some time.”

“Fritillaries, oh blast, another F, are my favorite. I love the checkered pattern on the blooms. They bloom in April and May. If you wait to get married until then, I could have some brought here for your bride’s bouquet.”

Was she trying to get him to put off his marriage? Why would she do that? Unless…

No, she couldn’t know about his father’s will. The only people who knew she stood to inherit Horethorne if Tobias didn’t marry within three months of his father’s death were his closest friends and his father’s secretary. Who was now Tobias’s secretary. Tobias had asked him if Miss Wingate would be notified of her potential inheritance, but Dyer had assured him she would not unless the three months elapsed before Tobias wed.

Tobias brought his legs up, bending them at the knee, and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. “Why are you so interested in my marriage all of a sudden?”

“It’s important to you, and it does affect me.”

Tensing, he probed further. “In what way?”

“Your new countess will take command of this household, as she should. I am a member of this household. For the time being.”

He stared at her as if by looking long and hard enough, he’d be able to divine what else she might be thinking. Alas, that was impossible.

“Cassandra visited earlier.” Miss Wingate moved closer to the end of the settee. Closer to him. “Have you spoken to Lord Lucien about my idea to change the rules so you can bring me to the assemblies as your guest?”

“I haven’t had a chance.” He didn’t really understand why this was so important to her. It was just another ball. That wasn’t exactly true. It was a coveted invitation, like Almack’s but so much better. If he were young and new to London, he’d probably want to go too. Hell, he was neither, and if he wasn’t a member of the club, he’d be trying everything possible to garner an invitation.