The duke strolled to the window and stood looking out, his back to her. After a moment he said in a tight voice, “Is there a purpose to this visit, Lady Salter?”

“You are still in want of a bride.”

He stilled, then turned slowly to face her and in an arctic voice said, “And if I am, madam, what business is it of yours?”

Lady Salter lifted her chin and said what she had come here to say. “I have another niece.”

He didn’t move. His expression was carved in ice.

She continued, “She is also, of course, the daughter of an earl, though her mother was of the yeoman class. Georgiana herself is young, attractive, healthy and—”

“Ambitious.”

She blinked. “Not in the least—quite the contrary, in fact. She has—”

“All her teeth too, I’m sure. A picture of perfection, no doubt, but I’m not interested.”

She glared at him.

His lip curled and he continued with silken insolence, “We are not at Tattersalls, Lady Salter. There is no need to act the coper and enumerate your niece’s various qualities. I am not interested in furthering either her ambitions or yours.”

She bristled. Likening her to a horse coper indeed! “You forget yourself, young man—duke or not. Your mother would be appalled.” His mother was her goddaughter, as well as a friend.

He glanced pointedly at the clock.

His indifference was infuriating, as was his assumption that she was ambitious for her niece. She was, of course—Georgiana had no sense at all of where her duty lay—but the duke could not know that. He and Georgiana had barely even met. She doubted they’d exchanged a dozen words. It was yet another situation where an aunt was needed to step in and take control.

“Your mother and I—”

“—will, in future, kindly keep your noses out of my business. I’ve had enough of your interference.” In two paces he crossed the room and yanked on the bellpull. “Good day to you, madam.”

Interference? Madam? She almost choked on her indignation. Such ingratitude toward one who’d worked tirelessly—selflessly!—to arrange a suitable marriage for him.

The butler appeared in the doorway. The duke said, “Lady Salter is leaving, Fleming.”

Lady Salter rose and with great dignity stalked toward the door. As she reached it her temper got the better of her. She turned and in an icy voice said, “I was mistaken in thinking you and Georgiana would suit, Redmond. Far from being ambitious to marry you”—she gave a scornful huff—“the truth is, Georgiana did her level best to dissuade Rose from marrying you—”

“Wanted me for herself, no doubt.”