“I should have you horsewhipped. You frightened me to death. I thought heathens had kidnapped you and taken you off to some forsaken island in the middle of nowhere.”

Stephen rubbed his ear and managed to smile. For all he knew, his mother might have been correct concerning his whereabouts. “I sent word before I arrived.”

“You should have contacted me long before then. You’ve been gone since February, Stephen. Even the servants couldn’t tell me where you were.“ Lady Rothburne guided him to sit down and poured a cup of tea. “Now, you simply must tell me everything that’s happened since you left.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” he admitted. He did not possess enough memories to offer an honest accounting, so he gave her what truths he could. “I’ve been convalescing at Falkirk House in the country.”

“You were injured?” Immediately she reached out and took his hand. “Forgive me, Stephen. I didn’t know. But you’re well now?”

“Better. I have little memory of what happened. I came to London to look for the answers.”

Lady Rothburne took a deep sip of tea, and worry lines edged her mouth. “I don’t like the thought of some ruffian doing you harm. I shall call upon Lady Thistlewaite and ask for her assistance.”

At the mention of his mother’s dearest friend, Stephen suppressed a groan. Lady Thistlewaite had her sources of gossip, like most women. Her methods, however, left much to be desired. He could envision it now, a stout matron knocking upon an unsuspecting man’s door with her parasol, demanding, “Are you the barbarian who clouted Lady Rothburne’s son upon the head?”

“And,” his mother continued, “I think you should attend the Yarrington musicale next week. It will take your mind off matters.” She put on a bright smile and took his hand. “Your father and I insist.”

At the mention of the marquess, a gnawing irritation formed in his gut. “Mother, I really don’t think—“

“Oh, pish posh. I know exactly what you need. A lovely young woman at your side, that’s what. Someone to share your troubles. And Miss Hereford has missed you quite dreadfully. Why, the two of you make such a good pair. I have my heart quite set upon you marrying her. In fact—“ she leaned in close as if imparting a great secret ”—your father and I have already begun drawing up the guest list for your wedding. Miss Hereford would make you the perfect wife, after all. She is a woman of impeccable breeding.”

At his mother’s assertion, Stephen’s mouth tightened. “Married?”

His mother laughed. “Well, of course, Stephen. If anyone is one of society’s most eligible bachelors, it’s you.”

She was serious. Blood roared in his ears as his mind processed what she had said.

It seemed that Emily Barrow had lied to him after all.

Chapter Four