I forced a smile onto my face as I looked at Kieran, summoning every ounce of the biting wit I had once wielded so effectively in society.
"Speaking of arrangements," I said with exaggerated sweetness, "I've been meaning to ask if you're currently seeking a match, Mr. Shaw? There's a delightful widow in town—Lady Prescott. She's nearly twice your age but extraordinarily wealthy. Given your... financial situation, I thought you might appreciate the introduction."
The barb hit its mark. Kieran's smirk faltered as his face flushed with anger. Everyone in our circles knew he'd squandered his inheritance on gambling and women.
"I have no need for your matchmaking services," he snapped.
I widened my eyes innocently. "Oh? I simply assumed with your declining fortunes and advancing years, you might be grateful for any prospect at all."
