“His lordship will think what he will think,” Basset overrode with far more gentleness than he had with Adelaide a moment before. “But I’ll not have my wife be judged harshly and without cause. So, Miss Dyer, what would allow such a trousseau to be prepared in the allotted time? I beg your pardon, but I have no wish to delay further.”

Oh, now he wanted to be accommodating and polite?What was he playing at?

Adelaide peered at him through partially narrowed eyes. “Money, my lord. It is a crude subject, but there is no use prevaricating. Any modiste worth using for a proper trousseau can create timely miracles if paid well enough.”

He met her daring look without flinching, which was fairly impressive, given he had only known her a few minutes at most.

“I have no qualms with paying for efficient excellence. Allow me to add to whatever has been set aside for this trousseau in order to see it done.”

Surely it could not be so easy for him to give in to such an extravagant request. Adelaide had plenty of gowns, some of which had not even been worn in the Season she had just passed, and it would have been fully reasonable for her to include those in her trousseau.

But she was not providing that information, and neither was her mother. That seemed significant.

“A true bridegroom of status would pay the lot, sir,” Adelaide suggested without reservation. “Dowry notwithstanding.”

She heard Anna gasp, took note of her father’s eyes widening and the odd purple shade entering his face, but she ignored them both. Her mother was too far out of her periphery for her to see, but it did not take imagination to picture a semi-horrified expression there.

Basset did not react but for a small tick in his jaw. A mighty fine jaw, as it happened, perfectly chiseled like a statue Adelaide had seen recently. Probably indicated a stubbornness in the man, which she could easily imagine.

Would he say nothing? Or would he simply stare and assume she would retreat from this fight? He would be sadly mistaken if that was indeed his plan.

“Very well,” Basset replied at last, without any sighs or moans, without a single hint of regret or exasperation.

Where was the entertainment in that?

“You’ll do it?” Adelaide could not believe what she was hearing and did her best not to blink more than was necessary in her disgruntlement.

Basset nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes, I will pay for the entirety of your trousseau.”

“You don’t know what will be in it,” she reminded him, an odd ticklish sensation starting at the corner of her mouth. “And therefore, how much it will cost.”

“I trust you and your mother and your cousin, if she is included, to be reasonable within the demands of appropriate fashion for a lady of wealth, status, and consequence.” He offered the slightest of shrugs. “And, to be frank, I am able to afford such a thing.”