The sharp words were intended for Hyacinth, she knew.
Still smiling with such deliberate sweetness her jaws ached, Hyacinth stroked Lady’s fur. “Older pups are surprisingly kin with young pups in that fashion, I find, Your Grace. What is the saying about old dogs?”
“That you cannot teach them new tricks,” the duchess said coolly, her dark eyes narrowing upon Hyacinth. “However, the idiom is quite incorrect. I once had a terrier who had gone completely deaf, and yet I was able to teach her to speak when there was something she wanted. Just a small bark to alert me to her needs.”
Hyacinth raised a brow. “Did your terrier also cause you to sneeze, Your Grace?”
They stared at each other, at a stalemate.
“I cannot fathom what Lord Sidmouth finds of such interest,” the duchess said at length, her tone still colder than Wenham Lake ice. “But then, his taste has always been suspect. The dear boy cannot abide by caviar.”
Nor could Hyacinth.
Another point in Tom’s favor.
But it was the first sentence his grandmother had issued more than the second and third which caught her interest. Which spurred her response.
Slowly, she returned to her seat, cradling Lady in her arms. “Pray explain, Your Grace. What is it that Lord Sidmouth finds of interest? I am sure I must misunderstand your inferences.”
“And I am equally sure you do not.” The duchess inclined her head in the fashion of a queen presiding over her loyal subjects. “Sidmouth has been chasing after you. I am not a fool—make no mistake. I know the viscount better than anyone. His lordship cannot resist a broken female in need of a savior. I blame it upon his mother, of course. First, it was the Marchioness of Needham he lost his head over. The marriage was broken, Lord Needham off to the Continent. Lady Needham went wild, tossing her reputation to the wind and allowing it to scatter. And there was Sidmouth, waiting to pick up the pieces and paste them back together.”
Hyacinth stiffened. “I do not like the direction of this conversation, Your Grace. I cannot help but to think it would be best if we were to leave it here, with nothing more said.”
“But I am not finished, Lady Southwick.” The duchess’ spine went straighter. “When Sidmouth was a lad, he adored rescuing wounded creatures. Once, it was a bird which had been captured by a tomcat and suffered a broken wing. On another occasion, it was a frog. There was the turtle who found himself on his back in the gardens. As a man fully grown, his inclination to save has not stopped. But now, he settles upon unsuitable creatures instead.”
Hyacinth did not care for the comparison Her Grace was drawing between herself and the Marchioness of Needham. There was something about hearing the name of the woman Tom loved and had wanted to marry that was most unsettling. Nor did she enjoy being likened to a bird with a broken wing or a turtle on her back.
Even if she had rather felt like both of those creatures at times in the last few years.
“I cannot fathom what any of this has to do with me, Your Grace,” she said simply, striving to affect a calm mien. “As I have already mentioned, I am hardly familiar to him, being nothing more than his neighbor.”
“Of course,” the duchess said in a tone that was laden with insincerity. “If you insist to cling to the pretense you are not Sidmouth’s mistress, I cannot be bothered to correct you. However, you may rest assured that I know precisely who and what you are. You are a broken lady and a courter of scandal. You will only bring ruin and shame upon Sidmouth if you continue in this vein.”
Hyacinth blinked at the vehemence in the older woman’s tone, coupled with her shocking knowledge. She and Tom had been so very careful with their clandestine meetings. How could the Duchess of Arrington know?
“Regardless of what you may think of me, Your Grace,” she managed past her discomfit, “I would never intentionally harm Lord Sidmouth in any way. I respect him far too much.”
“If you respect him,” said the duchess sternly, “then keep your distance. My husband, the Duke of Arrington, is in dangerously ill health, Lady Southwick. His physician has warned us that any further upset will bring about his end. Sidmouth has promised he will marry soon to please Arrington.”
Hyacinth absorbed the duchess’s words, doing her utmost