“The look she gave him when he told her he thought the size of her family was fascinating was interesting,” St. Albans said. “Granted, I was speaking with Ladies Alice and Madeline, but I caught that part of the conversation, and her profile. I could be wrong.”

“I do not believe you are.” How could John say something so inane. Aurelia knew him as well as she knew herself. He would detest an unintelligent wife. “If it was not unkind to the lady, I would introduce him to a truly dim female.”

“We mustn’t do that. Expectations might be raised before he discovered his mistake,” Mama said. “I believe we should see how this unfolds.”

“I would not be averse to taking a slight hand in giving them an opportunity to spend more time together. A ball, I think. Or something less formal.”

“A theater party?” St. Albans asked. “Or a party to Vauxhall?”

Aurelia looked at him. “And would you like to be included, my lord?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would be delighted to be invited to make up your numbers.” His countenance had held an amused air for most of the conversation. It was now absolutely serious. “I am looking for a wife, and she must be intelligent and have great strength of character. I get the feeling you would be the one to help me find such a lady.”

She inclined her head in assent. “That would give me a great deal of pleasure.” Unbeknownst to him, he might have already met the lady. “Mama and I are attending a meeting today that many ladies of that ilk will also attend. I would not be surprised to find a few young ladies there as well.”

Mama gave him a hard look. “Would this have anything to do with your father?”

To Aurelia’s surprise, he ran a finger under his collar. “Partially. I do want to spend my life with a woman of intelligence, but she must be able to stand up to my father. I will be able to aid her only so much.”

Her mother nodded, as if she already knew the answer. “As I thought.”

If she was going to help him, she had to know the problem with the duke. “Is he cruel?”

“Not in the sense you most likely mean. He is not a brute. In fact, I can only remember him spanking me twice, and both times I had put my life in danger.” St. Albans tilted his head back for a few moments. “He can be difficult. If he thinks he can get the better of you, he will. When he tells someone to do something one ought not do or really does not want to do, one fares much better by standing up to him and telling him no, rather than to meekly do what he wants. It is hard to explain.”

“Your mother’s garden,” Mama said suddenly.