Mr. Northam met my gaze. “My cousin and I have something of a long-standing dispute, and I believe you may be the perfect person to answer it for us.”
    “Northam.” Lord Williams sounded irritated.
    Mr. Northam pressed on. “He argues that women prefer a man of manners and good breeding, and that is why women flock to him. I argue that it is only because of his title that anyone shows any interest in such a tedious and tiresome person. What is your opinion on the matter?”
    Lord Williams carefully set his spoon down. “You must excuse my cousin, Miss Brinton. He is worse than usual this evening, and I apologize that you are bearing the brunt of his beastliness.”
    Mr. Northam didn’t seem disconcerted by his cousin in the least. “Attempting to contain what he terms my ‘beastliness’ is the only reason he’s in attendance, much to the disappointment of many young women who rather hope to catch his eye—and his title.”
    “To be sure,” Lord Williams said, the sarcasm returning to his voice.
    “And will we count you among those disappointed, Miss Brinton?” Mr. Northam asked.
    They both seemed to wait for an answer. I set my spoon down. It was best to be clear about my intentions from the beginning; there was no point wasting time. “I am not in attendance seeking a title, a heart, or anything similar to romance. So, no, I will not be among the throng pestering his lordship for attention. Yet to answer the other part of the question . . .” I took a breath. “I sincerely hope that I will not leave disappointed. Indeed, I am full of hope that I may be counted among Mrs. Hickmore’s success stories by the end of the week.”
    Lord Williams studied me a moment before raising his gaze to his cousin. Again something passed between them. Whatever it was, Mr. Northam took on a determined air and leaned close enough to murmur, “You know, Miss Brinton, I believe we shall get on very well.”
    “I do hope so,” I murmured in return.