The Ideal Wife by Mary Balogh

man of the house and the head of the family. You and I will answer questions when you are finished.”
    His mother’s and his sisters’ attention was riveted on her, the earl saw with a glance at each of them. None of them spoke a word.
    “Alistair,” his wife said, smiling again when the door opened, “you may take this tray back to the kitchen, if you please, and instruct Cook to prepare us a fresh pot of tea and some cakes if she has been baking today. Has she?”
    “Yes, my lady,” he said. “Currant cakes and scones. Cook’s scones are the best in London, my lady.”
    “Mmm,” she said. “A plate of each, then, Alistair, if you please.”
    She waited until he had picked up the tray and disappeared from the room with it.
    “I am starved,” she said. “I hope Alistair’s boast was no idle one. Now, darling.” She sat down close beside her husband and took his hand in hers. She looked up at him almost worshipfully.
    He laced his fingers with hers, cleared his throat, and began speaking. His mother and his sisters had never ever been such a quiet audience. The only interruption during the next several minutes was caused by the arrival of the tea tray and his wife’s smiling but silent indication to the butler and footman that it be placed before her and the plates of cakes and scones handed around.

    A BIGAIL HAD TAKEN granted that her mother-in-law and her sisters-in-law would be taking up residence at Grosvenor Square. But it appeared not. Lady Ripley had her own establishment in town, and Constance stayed with her there. Mr. Kelsey had rented a house for the Season and was to join Prudence and their two children there within a month.
    “The only reason I brought the children visiting with me this afternoon,” she explained to Abigail before she left, “was that we are newly arrived and I thought Barbara would be frightened if I drove off without her. And if I were to bring Barbara, then it seemed only right to bring Terrence too.”
    Prudence was the one who thawed most noticeably before taking her leave. She even kissed Abigail’s cheek and asked for the name of her modiste.
    Constance was polite, though she protested to both the earl and her mother that she could not remember any Gardiners in the family.
    “Yes, there were some,” her mother said unwillingly. “Though we never had any dealings with them, Constance.”
    Lady Ripley herself accepted the inevitable with a cold graciousness. “This will appear like a ramshackle affair,” she said. “I must take you about with me, Abigail, and see to it that you are presented to the right people. It must seem that this match has my approval.”
    “I hope it will not merely seem so,” Lord Severn said. “I hope our marriage will have your approval, Mama, once you have recovered from your shock.”
    Abigail smiled determinedly. “When you see how I love Miles, ma’am, and how I will use every effort to make him comfortable,” she said, “then perhaps you will be less unhappy. It must be dreadful to lose a son to a stranger—and so suddenly. I am sure I would not wish it to happen to any of my sons.”
    She blushed at the implications of what she had said. Her husband, who was holding her hand at the time in preparation for escorting their visitors to the door, squeezed it tightly.
    “Well,” the earl said to her after the door had closed behind his mother and younger sister and they had ascended the stairs back to the drawing room, “that ordeal is over. You did very well indeed, Abby. I was proud of you.”
    “They are used to running your life for you, aren’t they?” she said, and watched his rather shamefaced grin bring the dimple to his cheek. “But I think it will not happen any longer, Miles. You stood up to them beautifully and forced them to be quiet and listen to you. I am glad you decided to tell them the full truth instead of making up a more plausible-sounding story that they would have been bound to discover was a lie. I