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For the first time, she also wished that she could break confidentiality. Most families did not mind being known to use a matchmaker; in fact, Mei had noticed there seemed to be a certain cachet to being a client of her grandmother’s now. The Duke of Bolton was not one who thought so, though.

And as much as she would very much like to crow to his sister and the rest of her friends about being hired by him as a client in particular, as they had all heard his claims about dukes not needing matchmakers, she would keep it to herself. That was part of the business. It would not do to have a ducal client and then upset him.

He might always change his mind in the future. Or his future duchess might drop a hint in someone’s ear that Mei was a good resource.

“Yes, well.” Sitting back in his seat, the Duke of Bolton scanned her face, as though he was trying to decide what to say.

“Perhaps we should start with your requirements,” Mei suggested gently. “What attributes would you like your wife to have?”

The duke cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. Quite truthfully, his discomfort was making her feel rather gleeful. She got the feeling he would much rather be dealing with her grandmother than her, and it made this encounter quite a bit more fun.

His gaze dropped to the desk in front of him, as though focusing on it helped him think.

“The ability to run my household. So she must be intelligent. Beautiful. Kind. Able to hold a conversation.”

Interesting. Nothing about connections or wealth… but she supposed that dukes, being at the top of the social heap, did not need to concern themselves so much with such considerations. Still, she needed a bit more to go on.

“What would you like to be able to converse with her about?” she asked. He looked up at her, blinking as though he had not thought about the topics of conversation. “Art? Music? History? Current events? Politics?” It was difficult to keep her amusement out of her voice as he continued to stare blankly at her, but she felt she’d done a fair job of remaining neutral-toned.

“Whatever interests her,” he said finally.

Mei felt her eyebrows rise before she could stop herself. Quite frankly, she’d assumed the duke would have a long, detailed list of attributes he’d like his bride to have. She’d thought he would be the type, yet here he was, confounding her expectations.

“Interesting,” she said after a moment. “No preferred subjects at all?” It was difficult not to be skeptical, especially after so many similar interviews with other lords of the ton which went quite differently.

“Truly engaging conversation happens when at least one of the participants is enthusiastic about the topic.” He shifted in his seat as she stared at him, reaching up to adjust his collar. “If it is something she is passionate about, the conversation will be far superior. Hopefully, she will also enjoy listening to my interests, but I do not expect her to cater to them exclusively.”

Mei could not help but stare, utterly aghast at the realization that she was starting to actually like the Duke of Bolton. A man who had been the bane of her existence since they’d been introduced and he’d expressed his views about matchmakers.

“What interests would you say you have?” she asked after a moment. Partly because she needed to know and partly because… well, she was suddenly curious. As Tiffany’s beloved brother, Mei had assumed he must have some redeeming qualities, but this was her first time witnessing them for herself.

Before he could answer, noise filtered down the hallway. It sounded as though someone was arriving, perhaps several someones. Whoever they were, they were clearly not expected by the frown that crossed the Duke of Bolton’s expression. He got to his feet, his gaze fixed behind her at the open doorway.

“Excuse me, Miss Hu. I should see what is going on. Please wait here.” As he spoke, he started walking around the desk, but he did not get very far when running footsteps approached the doorway. Mei got to her feet as well, wanting to see what was happening, and she was shocked to see the upright butler red-faced and puffing, hand against his chest.

“Your Grace… Her Grace…”

“Which Her Grace?”

“Your lady mother⁠—”

The butler was cut off, his eyes bulging almost comically as the woman herself came sweeping into the duke’s study. Mei had not met Tiffany and Bolton’s mother, but she’d heard plenty. Dressed in a dramatic gown of chartreuse and ivory, the current Duchess of Bolton was a stately looking older woman, very beautiful, with dark hair pulled back in a sleek coiffure. It was clear where her children had gotten their good looks from.

“There’s my darling boy!” The duchess started toward the duke, hands outstretched in front of her. If she even noticed Mei’s presence in the room, there was no indication of it.

“Mother.” The duke’s sharp tone made the word into a rebuke. “What are you doing here?”

The older woman trilled a laugh, as though she had no idea what he was talking about. Which, considering Mei knew that the woman had been banished to the countryside for awful things she’d said to Tiffany and for spreading ugly rumors about her own daughter, was utterly brazen. It felt like a pit had opened up in the bottom of Mei’s stomach—she wanted to help, but she had no idea what to do.

Speaking could make things worse for the duke.

Yet she felt as though she ought to do something because he was clearly unhappy at his mother’s arrival.

“What am I doing here? Why, I am here to help you find a bride, of course.” The duchess beamed at her son, as if her transgressions had never occurred, and she had been invited back to the capital to assist him.

The duke turned slightly, his face pale, expression panicked, as his gaze met Mei’s. It was clear he did not know what to say or do.

As for Mei, she was suddenly wishing her grandmother was here. Surely, she would know what to do, how to handle the situation, whereas Mei could only look back at the duke helplessly. She had no idea what to make of the duchess’ arrival or how to assist him. Her heart welled with sympathy for the very difficult position he’d unexpectedly found himself in.