Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

L azarus strolled into Hyde Park the following afternoon with a buoyant optimism. If anyone could help him finally master reading and feel confident giving a speech, it was Miss Price. Her eagerness to help had both delighted and relieved him. She hadn’t been judgmental, nor had she demonstrated pity. He could not have found a better person to provide support where he needed it most.

But today would be about her. Lazarus was most eager to provoke envy in at least a few gentlemen today.

Making his way from the Grosvenor Gate to the Ring, Lazarus exchanged pleasantries with many people. He did not stop to converse. However, he did inform everyone he could that he was on his way to meet a special young lady. That would set tongues wagging.

He spotted Miss Price immediately as he approached the Ring. She stood with her mother, her mouth spreading in a smile the moment she saw him. Honestly, she was attractive, certainly pretty enough to garner attention from a number of young bucks. If not for her tendency toward clumsiness and her obvious dancing…issues, she would likely be popular. Her father was a prominent member of the government, and her grandfather was a viscount. That alone ought to propel her into the orbit of an appropriate gentleman.

Lazarus suddenly realized he was practically playing the role of matchmaker. The thought of a rogue such as him attempting to orchestrate a union for nonroguish people provoked him to smirk. He quickly suppressed it.

“Good afternoon,” he said, greeting both ladies as he arrived at their side. He noted Miss Price’s exceptionally lovely costume—a smart walking dress of dark blue with a matching spencer decorated with gold buttons and a simply marvelous hat. “Your bonnet is particularly cunning, Miss Price. Exceedingly current.” Indeed, she would draw envious stares from other ladies, he would wager.

“It’s new,” Miss Price murmured, her expression one of both pleasure and appreciation. She flicked a glance toward her mother, who beamed with pride.

Lazarus had the sense they enjoyed a close relationship. It reminded him of what he’d shared with his father and how much Lazarus missed him.

“Shall we promenade?” He offered Miss Price his arm.

“Enjoy yourselves.” Mrs. Price glanced up at the gray sky. “I do hope the rain holds off.”

“We’ll hasten back if it does not,” Lazarus assured her as Miss Price put her hand on his sleeve. She had small, dainty hands. Very feminine.

What an odd thing for him to note. He was typically more interested in a lady’s other physical attributes. But then, he was not regarding Miss Price the way he did most other women. She was his friend’s sister and now his friend.

They started along the Ring, and she looked up at him. “Did you speak to Lord Droxford about our proposed arrangement?”

“Not yet, but I plan to. Have you spoken to Tamsin?”

“I will tomorrow,” Miss Price replied. “She is coming to visit.”

“Splendid. I’ll be sure to hunt down Droxford this evening, then. If I can. He doesn’t go out much, especially now that he is married.” Lazarus inclined his head toward a group of ladies they passed. He noticed how they looked at Miss Price’s hat. Masculine in shape, it boasted gorgeous peacock feathers and was trimmed in gold and green. It was somehow ostentatious and tastefully elegant at the same time. When they were past the ladies, he leaned his head slightly toward her. “Your bonnet is causing a stir. It really is remarkable.”

“My mother insisted I needed a new hat. We went to Bond Street after you left yesterday, and it was delivered just this morning.”

“There will be copies made tomorrow, I can assure you,” he said.

“I doubt that will happen. My mother chose something and gave strict instructions for the milliner to make adjustments. She and this particular shopkeeper have an arrangement that she will not duplicate what she fashions for my mother—or me—for others.”

“That is surprising. I should think she would want to increase his profits.”

“The milliner may make something similar, but not exact. Knowing she made this hat is enough for others to want to buy from her. Or so my mother says.” Miss Price wrinkled her nose slightly. “I confess that fashion is not one of my strengths. I am fortunate, and glad, to have my mother’s influence. I think every shopkeeper on Bond Street knows her,” she added with a laugh. “Though, it’s the same with me and booksellers on Paternoster Row.”

“You spend a great deal of time in bookshops?” Again, Lazarus nodded toward a group of ladies, one of whom was giggling and blushing as she eyed him. He was used to such attention. If he had not been in the company of Miss Price, he would have gone to speak with her and probably flirt.

“I do,” Miss Price said eagerly. “As much as I’m allowed. I have an allowance for book purchases, and I confess I always spend it all.”

“You must have a large library.”

“My father let me have a portion of the one at home in Bristol. This is my first time in London, and my books are stacked in a trunk unfortunately. Papa has assured me he will buy a bookcase for my bedchamber.”

“Miss Price, I hope you won’t think me too forward, but do you speak to all gentlemen in this manner?” He glanced at her and saw her brow furrow.

“I think so.” She didn’t sound entirely certain. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Lazarus chose his words carefully. He didn’t want her to feel badly. “Not wrong, exactly, but discussing plans for your bedchamber is perhaps not the best course of conversation, nor is your passion for books. At least not on a first promenade.”

She turned her head toward him, her eyes wide. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to be behaving in a specific manner with you. That is, you aren’t an actual suitor.”

She was right that he wasn’t, nor had he set any expectations or requirements for their walk today. He probably ought to have done the latter. “You are correct, but perhaps we should practice how you speak with potential suitors. Unless you really are conversing with me in an entirely different way and already know what not to say.”

“Er, no.” Pink flagged her cheeks. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned the plan for a bookcase in my bedchamber and how I spend my entire purse on books.” She exhaled. “What gentleman will want a wife who spends his money on books?”

“A smart man will realize you won’t do that. You didn’t say you’ve a pile of IOUs scattered about Paternoster Row.”

Miss Price laughed. “I do not. Would they even allow a young lady such as me to offer an IOU?”

“I can’t imagine they would.” He narrowed one eye at her. “I haven’t given you any ideas, have I?”

“Not at all. I am not foolish enough to spend money I don’t have. My father prides himself on his economy and financial prowess.” She lowered her voice. “He has actually amassed a fair amount of wealth for a second son. Honestly, I thought that alone would encourage suitors, but I don’t think his prosperity is well known. I believe my father prefers that anyway.”

Now it was Lazarus’s turn to laugh. “That is not something you ought to share either, particularly if your father doesn’t like people knowing.”

She sent him an apologetic glance. “You are exceedingly easy to talk to. I feel as if I could reveal anything.”

“This is entirely my fault,” he said. “We did not set any rules. First, anything you say to me will be kept between us.”

Miss Price nodded. “The same for me, especially regarding your half of our arrangement.”

“That is comforting to know,” he said softly with a faint smile. “Second, let us set specific times when you will behave as you ought with a potential suitor. Perhaps that should be whenever we are together except for our meetings at the Droxfords.”

She was slow to respond. “For the rest of our promenade, I will endeavor to do that. Why does that make me suddenly nervous?”

“Don’t be.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have any trouble charming people or moving with grace and ease.” She spoke lightly, but he detected her underlying concern.

“You have many wonderful qualities. I only meant that I don’t want you to feel nervous with me. Ever. Can you do that?” He met her gaze, and she nodded. “Excellent. I am here to help. Let us start with appropriate topics of conversation.”

She tightened her grip on his arm, sending a jolt of awareness through him. “Please say I can talk about books.”

“It depends.” He worked to focus on her tutelage, not his body’s vexing response to hers. “I would not discuss romantic novels, if those interest you.”

“They do indeed, but so do mysteries and biographies. I like any book that tells a good story.”

“No poetry or scientific treatises for you?”

“Oh yes, both of those things can also tell a good story. My father’s library includes several writings by the scientist Edmond Halley. I adore reading his work. And poetry nearly always tells a story.”

Lazarus felt a bit of heat rise in his own face. Today was supposed to be about her, but she’d reminded him how little he knew about literature. “I haven’t read any of those things,” he said quietly, eager to return to helping her instead of thinking of his inadequacies.

“My apologies,” she whispered. “You will love Halley’s writing, particularly about the comet. I promise we’ll read it. Should I just avoid discussing books?”

Relieved that she’d diverted the conversation back to her, he replied, “I don’t think so. Just be measured about it and pay attention to your companion’s engagement. If he is interested in pursuing the topic, then by all means, go on. However, if he becomes glassy-eyed or attempts to change the subject, I recommend abandoning the conversation.”

“The entire conversation? I can excuse myself?” She sounded almost giddy. “Because I can’t see myself in a courtship with someone who isn’t interested in books or reading.”

That would include him, Lazarus realized, not that they were in danger of falling into an actual courtship. Although, interest wasn’t really his problem. He lacked the ability to support that interest. And as such, he’d never pursued it. He couldn’t say whether he liked books, and reading was a chore, not an enjoyment.

“There are ways to cordially remove yourself from a conversation. It depends on where you are or what you are doing. Obviously, if you are dancing, you can’t just walk away.” He laughed, and she joined him.

“What if we are promenading like this?” she asked.

“Well, again, you can’t just leave without causing a scene. I suggest you find another topic of conversation to see you through until you’re back with your mother.”

“I could also walk faster,” she said with a mischievous smile.

Lazarus laughed again. “You certainly could.”

“Except I’d likely trip and cause an even bigger scene,” she said with a sigh. “As much as we may perfect my conversation skills, I’m afraid my clumsiness and poor dancing ability are unfixable.”

He hated to hear her denigrate herself, but even more he didn’t want her to lose hope that she could change and grow. If she wanted to. “Do you think my reading deficiencies are unfixable?” he asked.

She jerked her gaze to his. “Absolutely not.” Her eyes narrowed. Then she laughed. “You are very clever, my lord.”

Lazarus wasn’t a clumsy person at all, but he nearly tripped. That was the second time she’d commented on his intelligence. And in a favorable way. He couldn’t help smiling. “I’m only saying that we can improve or enhance things about ourselves, if we want to.”

“I do agree with that sentiment, but while I may learn the technicality of dancing, I’m not convinced I’ll master the grace or elegance of it. And perhaps that is acceptable. At least to me.”

He felt her tense suddenly and looked toward her. Her attention was fixed just off the path to her right.

Virgil Eberforce stood with a pair of dandies, their garish costumes screaming for attention. As Lazarus and Miss Price neared, Eberforce turned his back to them and spoke loudly enough for them to hear. “That is the unfortunate chit who ruined my waistcoat at Almack’s. She should be banned from public spaces, just as she has surely been from private ones. I hear her remaining vouchers to Almack’s have been revoked.”

Miss Price sucked in a breath and indeed began to walk faster. Lazarus, on the contrary, wanted to stop and have strong words with Eberforce. No, that wasn’t quite true. He wanted to pummel the man into the ground.

“Why are you stopping?” she whispered urgently.

“Eberforce deserves a bruising setdown.”

“Unless it includes actual bruises, I must insist we be on our way. I don’t want to overhear another word.”

They hadn’t overheard anything. Eberforce had spoken loudly with cruel intent. She was meant to hear every word. Which was why Lazarus wanted to put him in his place. “I’d be happy to plant him a facer,” Lazarus offered.

“I spoke in jest,” she said, pulling at him so that he began to walk at her faster speed. “You can’t hit him. I may be naive about a great many things, but even I know that will not help me. You do recall what happened to Tamsin and Droxford?”

“I do.” Droxford had hit a man who’d grabbed Tamsin and attempted to pull her away. The man had been warned not to do it a second time and had failed to behave accordingly. If Lazarus had been there, he would have defended his cousin in the same manner. Of course, he would have been applauded for doing so, and no one would have expected him to marry her.

That Droxford had gone to such extremes for her indicated their relationship was close. Rumors would have arisen, and reputations would likely have been damaged. Hence, they had wed. Fortunately for them both, all had turned out well since they were now madly in love.

“I won’t promise not to speak with Eberforce at another time,” Lazarus vowed. “Or ensure that your brother does.” Yes, that would be far more appropriate, and Evan would be eager to keep Eberforce from verbally attacking his sister. “He’s a menace,” he added.

“I don’t disagree,” Miss Price said. “Thank you for your support. It means a great deal to me.”

He cast her a sidelong glance and was arrested by the sincerity in her gaze. “You shall have that support—always.” The same jolt he’d felt earlier when she’d gripped him more tightly shocked him again. The need to protect Miss Price nearly overwhelmed him.

Her gaze shifted forward. “There is my mother. We hardly practiced how I am to talk with a suitor, but I do feel a bit more educated on that front. When I see you next, I will behave entirely as if you are a potential suitor. When will that be?”

“Are you attending the Oxley ball in two days?”

“Yes. So there, then?”

He nodded. “But I hope to see you before then—regarding our other matter.”

“I do too, and I shall not be talking to you as if you are a potential suitor.” She gave him a winning smile. “I doubt that would serve your interests.”

He found he could hardly wait. Because he would at last make some progress with reading—or so he hoped.

T he following afternoon, Gwen awaited the arrival of her friends. They gathered at least weekly to keep abreast of what was happening with each other, and it was Gwen’s turn to host them.

Tamsin Deverell, Lady Droxford, was the first to arrive, and that was because Gwen had dispatched a note yesterday asking her to come early. This was so Gwen could propose her secret meetings with Somerton.

Now that the moment was upon her, she hoped Tamsin wouldn’t refuse. But why would she? Tamsin was, as Gwen had told Somerton, the most generous person she’d ever met.

Garbed in a fetching dark-rose-colored gown trimmed in dark blue, her light brown hair artfully styled, Tamsin appeared every bit the Lady Droxford. She gave Gwen a quick hug before they settled themselves on a pair of chairs next to one another in the main seating area of the drawing room.

“Your new costume is so lovely,” Gwen said. “My mother could have chosen that.”

“Isaac’s Aunt Sophia has been overseeing my wardrobe, which needed complete replacement—at least according to her. I suppose most of my garments aren’t appropriate for London.”

“Is it terribly overwhelming?” Gwen asked.

Tamsin lifted a shoulder. “Not terribly. Persuading Isaac to accept a modicum of invitations is my biggest challenge,” she said with a laugh, her blue-green eyes sparkling. “He doesn’t attend everything with me, which is fine. I go with Sophia or with Min and Ellis and their chaperone, Mrs. Dalwhimple.” She gave Gwen a sympathetic look. “I understand things haven’t been going well for you, and I’m sorry to hear it.”

Gwen waved her hand. “We can discuss that when the others arrive.” She cocked her head. “I asked you to come early because I need your help. What I’m about to ask is both necessary and secret. I’ve no doubt you will keep my confidence, but Droxford will need to be in on the secret. Hopefully, Somerton is speaking with him today if he hasn’t already.”

Tamsin shook her head as if it had cobwebs. “I’m confused. Why is Somerton speaking with Droxford? And what has that to do with your secret?” Tamsin’s eyes rounded. “Are you and Somerton going to have an affair?” She giggled, and Gwen could tell she was joking.

“No!” Gwen laughed with her.

“I did hear that he came to your rescue at Almack’s. That gossip has spread rather quickly.” Her features creased as she added, “I am so sorry we didn’t arrive before you left.”

“It’s all right. I’m sorry you dragged Droxford there for no reason,” she said with a chuckle.

Tamsin appeared relieved. “It’s good for him to get out once in a while. I’m just glad my cousin helped you.”

“He was very kind,” Gwen said. “And he suffered my dancing most admirably. He was keen to help me—since he knows Evan.”

“Well, he knows you too from Weston,” Tamsin pointed out.

“Yes, but not well. He’s the sort of rogue we don’t allow ourselves to get close to.” And yet here Gwen was planning to be very close to him for the next several weeks. But nothing untoward would happen. He was not interested in her as a rogue might be, and she was absolutely not drawn to him in that manner.

“That is very true,” Tamsin said. “My aunt hopes he will settle down soon, but Grandmama doesn’t see that happening. She predicts he won’t marry until he’s at least thirty, and that’s still a couple of years off.” Tamsin and Somerton’s grandmother resided in a cottage in Weston. They both stayed with her in August.

“It’s very sweet that Somerton stays at your grandmother’s cottage instead of the Grove,” Gwen noted, referring to the estate outside Weston owned by Shefford and Min’s father, the Duke of Henlow. “I would expect a rogue to lodge with his friends.”

“He is quite fond of Grandmama, as she is of him. Somerton isn’t entirely a rogue, but then, as his cousin, I am likely biased.”

“Or that you are exceedingly optimistic and want to believe the best of him,” Gwen said with a light laugh.

“That is also true.” Tamsin grinned, then fixed Gwen with an expectant stare. “Now, tell me this secret before I expire from curiosity.”

“Somerton has asked for my help in polishing a speech he’s to deliver in the Lords.”

Tamsin blinked, her surprise evident. “Has he? I’m equally surprised that he is giving a speech, for he hasn’t ever seemed that engaged in his position, and that he has enlisted your aid. Forgive my impertinence, but why would he ask you?”

“I may have gone on about reading a great deal,” Gwen said offhandedly. “That led us to his speech, and he asked for my help.” It seemed a stretch to believe, but Gwen couldn’t disclose the truth. Instead, she embellished the need for them to meet and would tell Lazarus what she’d done. “He is also going to help me improve my status on the Marriage Mart. We would like to meet—in private—periodically to accomplish both of those things. In trying to come up with a plan to do this without him calling on me here too often, we thought we could meet at your house. I would call on you, and he would call on Droxford at around the same time. It would all look perfectly innocent.”

“Is it innocent?” Tamsin exhaled. “Perhaps I am not as blind to my cousin’s roguishness as I thought. Of course it’s innocent, else you wouldn’t be doing it. How will he help you? With dancing?”

“Er, yes. Mama has not yet been able to secure a new dancing master for me.” Unfortunately, Gwen had earned the reputation of being a hopeless student. Her inability to be trained could reflect poorly on the instructor, which gave them pause.

Tamsin gave her an earnest look. “You know I will help you in any way I can. I must speak with Isaac, however, since this involves him too.”

“Somerton will be speaking to him, if he hasn’t already.”

“That will be best,” Tamsin said with a flicker of relief in her gaze. “Isaac won’t mind, but he won’t want to support anything that might harm someone’s reputation. He’s very non roguish in that respect.”

“Sometimes I do wonder how Droxford became so close with these other gentlemen, including my brother,” Gwen said. “But I suppose that’s a long story.”

“Somewhat, yes. Isaac formed a particular bond with Shefford while they were at Oxford. I do think Sheff feels protective of him. It’s rather sweet.”

“Sheff seems like the older brother who wants to watch out for everyone,” Gwen said, thinking of how he’d taken her brother, Evan, under his wing last Season. Min had said it was to replace the loss of Banemore, who’d disappeared into the north with his new wife. Whatever the reason, Evan thought highly of his friend, and Shefford seemed to think the same of him.

“Everyone except Min!” Tamsin said with a laugh. “I jest. They do seem fond of one another, even if they tease each other mercilessly.”

“Speaking of Min.” Gwen glanced toward the doorway. “Before she arrives, can we set the first meeting for me and Somerton for tomorrow afternoon?”

“I have no quarrel with that, and Isaac is due to be home,” Tamsin said. “Unless you hear something different from me later or tomorrow morning, count on it.”

“Brilliant!” They’d finished not a moment too soon as the butler announced the arrival of Lady Minerva Halifax and her companion, Miss Ellis Dangerfield.

Elegant and impeccably dressed, Min glided into the drawing room. Her dark hair was swept into a cunning style, and a beautiful garnet cross rested against her pale skin above the bodice of her ivory-and-pale-yellow-striped gown. Ellis was Min’s companion and always dressed far more subtly. She wore a light brown, high-necked walking dress with a diminutive floral pattern. Her blonde hair was pulled into a more simple, severe style.

The new arrivals situated themselves on a settee across from Gwen and Tamsin. “We are all here, then,” Min said.

Earlier in the Season, they’d met at Persephone’s, as she awaited the birth of her child, but she’d delivered a beautiful son a fortnight ago. It would be some time before she joined them once more.

“Indeed we are,” Gwen said. “Does anyone want tea?” There was a pot along with some cakes on a table nearby.

“In a bit,” Min replied. “We simply must discuss what happened at Almack’s the other night.” She looked at Gwen with sympathy. “I should have called on you sooner, but things have been hectic at Henlow House. We’ve a new housekeeper.” Min brushed her hands against her lap and fixed a worried stare at Gwen. “The rumor is that you fell into an ungainly heap in the ballroom and that you ruined Eberforce’s waistcoat. Then Somerton of all people helped you up and took you to the dance floor in the middle of a set?” She glanced toward Ellis, her companion for nearly fifteen years. “Terrible night for us to arrive late.”

“That is a fairly accurate description,” Gwen said slowly. “Eberforce was quite rude.” She considered telling them about what had happened at the park yesterday, but she was embarrassed.

“He’s horrid,” Min said vehemently. “And I hear he gave you the cut direct and made insulting comments at Hyde Park yesterday. I’m considering asking Sheff to call him out. Though, I suppose your brother ought to do it.”

Or Somerton.

Where had that thought come from?

Gwen knew precisely where—from him. He’d been clear about his desire to do physical harm to Eberforce. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to call him out. Or should. He definitely should not. Again, Gwen thought of Tamsin and how she’d ended up betrothed to Droxford. All because the baron had sought to defend her from an overzealous suitor. It was disturbing and frustrating that protecting a woman should cause a scandal. The scandal should be gentlemen who behaved badly. Rogues. It all came back to rogues.

“He didn’t!” Tamsin said with genuine horror. “I don’t think I’ve met Eberforce, nor do I want to.”

“He tried to offer for me during my first Season two years ago,” Min said. “I danced with him once. He called on me the next day, and I think we spent ten minutes speaking. He was incredibly pompous. That evening, he approached my father outside Brooks’s—because he wasn’t a member himself—and asked if he could call the following day to negotiate a marriage contract.”

“I can’t imagine your father thought much of that.” Gwen had heard enough anecdotes about the Duke of Henlow to know that he possessed a short temper and did not give time to those he considered beneath him.

“He did not,” Ellis murmured with a small smile. “He still tells that story when he’s trying to make a point about how people should not attempt to rise above their station.”

“It’s shocking Eberforce is still unwed,” Gwen quipped.

Min grinned. “Completely. Though I am as well,” she added. “And so far, my prospects seem bleak this Season as many matrons have written me off as approaching spinsterhood.”

“You’re only twenty-two,” Tamsin said.

“And I just turned twenty-two,” Gwen said. “Am I nearly on the shelf?”

“No,” Min said firmly. “Nor am I.”

“You do, however, have the reputation for being discerning to the point of harming your potential,” Ellis pointed out. “Which I wholly disagree with.”

“Is that true?” Gwen asked. “Is your reputation suffering?”

“It’s not quite as sparkling as it was last Season, I suppose. Because I’ve turned down so many offers,” Min replied with a sigh. “I simply refuse to marry a rogue. My standards are quite high.”

Gwen gave her an encouraging nod. “As they should be. I’ve no wish to wed a rogue either. Though, if that’s the only offer I get, I may have to swallow my pride.”

“No!” All three of Gwen’s friends snapped their heads toward her and answered practically in unison.

Min gave her an earnest stare. “We must protect our pride and our self-respect. You don’t want to be caught in an unhappy marriage.”

Ellis gave Min a sympathetic look, and not for the first time, Gwen had the sense that Min’s parents’ marriage was not a happy one. She’d never seen them together, but then she’d only come to London about six weeks earlier.

“I must concur,” Tamsin said softly. “I feared I was at first—because Isaac and I were forced to wed by circumstance. I never told you, but after the wedding, he said he wanted the marriage to be in name only.”

Gwen gasped. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

A faint blush washed over Tamsin’s cheeks. “I think I was just shocked. He said it was ‘for now,’ so I expected it would change—and it did, thankfully. I did speak with Persey about it. Since she was married, I thought she could offer advice as to whether I could manage that.”

“And what did she say?” Min asked.

“That I would be disappointed to not have a real marriage. And she was right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell any of you.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Min said warmly. “Persey was the right person to give you counsel. However, I could also have told you that a marriage in name only would be hugely disappointing. But I suppose that depends on what that meant. I actually think I could survive without love if the physical aspects were acceptable.”

Tamsin laughed. “You shouldn’t know about that.”

“When your brother is a known libertine, you learn things you should not.” Min’s gaze and tone were deeply sardonic.

Gwen found this conversation most interesting. “So, it’s better for me to agree to marry a man with whom I can enjoy bed sport even if we don’t love one another?”

“You must decide for yourself,” Ellis said. “Min is being a tad cynical.” She cast her friend an arch look. “However, I still believe in love—for some people. Look at Tamsin. And Persey. They are both happy and in love. And I daresay, they’re fortunate enough to enjoy the bed sport too—given the way their husbands look at them.”

Min snorted. “Like doe-eyed puppies following their master.”

“It’s quite nice, actually.” Tamsin’s gaze held an almost smug glee that made Gwen feel completely happy for her.

“All right, then, I shall be in search of a besotted gentleman whom I can love, or whom I can at least enjoy in the bedroom,” Gwen said.

“Just so,” Min said with a wide grin. “In all seriousness, you deserve that, Gwen. We all do.”

Everyone nodded. The conversation turned to the upcoming social events, which included the Oxley ball as well as the weekly Phoenix Club ball. Though themes were usually reserved for the first Fridays of the month, this week they were having a medieval festival.

By the time Gwen’s friends left, she was feeling better about her Season. But more importantly, she was looking forward to her meeting tomorrow with Somerton. Hopefully, he’d spoken with Droxford, and they would, in fact, meet tomorrow.

She was eager to do her part in their arrangement. Hurrying to her sitting room to prepare, she hoped he would be pleased with her plan.