It seemed that the answer was yes.

Katherine treated her court of admirers much as she had done in Throckbridge. She smiled kindly and indulgently upon them all, granted them all equal favors, /liked /them all. But when asked, she would admit that there was no one special among them. "Do you not /want /someone special in your life?" Vanessa asked her one morning when they were taking a brisk walk through an almost deserted park. "Of course I do," Katherine said with something of a sigh. "But that is it, you see, Nessie. He must /be /special. I am coming to the conclusion that there is no such person, that I am looking for an impossibility.

But that cannot be so, can it? Hedley was special to you, and Lord Lyngate is. How I envied you when I watched you waltzing together at Cecily's come-out ball. If it has happened to you twice, is it too much to ask that it happen to me just once?" "Oh, it will," Vanessa assured her, taking her arm and squeezing it. "I am glad you will settle for no less than love. And what about Meg?" Their sister was not with them. She had gone to Hookham's library with the Marquess of Allingham. "And the marquess, you mean?" Katherine said. "I do believe he is seriously courting her." "And will she have him?" Vanessa asked. "I do not know," Katherine admitted. "She seems to favor him. Certainly she pays no attention to anyone else, though there are several eligible and personable gentlemen interested in her. She does not behave as if she were in love, though, does she?" It was true. Meg was far more concerned with trying to control Stephen's movements and with encouraging Kate to enjoy herself as much as she was able and with assuring herself that Vanessa was happy than with forging a new life for herself.

Yet the marquess, who really was an amiable gentleman, was very attentive.

And Crispin Dew was married. There was no point in pining any further for him. Ah, easy for /her /to say, Vanessa thought. "Meg never will talk about herself, will she?" Katherine said. "I have never particularly noticed before, but it is true. That is why I never knew about Crispin Dew, I suppose. Oh, Nessie, did she care for him so very much?" "I fear she did," Vanessa said. "But perhaps given time she will find someone else. Perhaps he will even be the Marquess of Allingham. She seems to enjoy his company." But it was a hope soon to be dashed.

When Vanessa arrived at Merton House one afternoon a week or so later, she found Stephen in the hallway, about to go out with Constantine. They were to go to the races. He was frowning. "Dash it all, Nessie," he said, "when will Meg learn that she is my sister, not my mother? And when will she learn that I am seventeen years old, going on eighteen, and far too old to be kept in leading strings?" "Oh, dear," she said, "what has happened?" "Allingham came here earlier," he said, "and asked to speak with me. It was dashed decent of him since I /am /only seventeen and he must be twice that and Meg is twenty-five. He came to ask my permission to pay his addresses to her." "Oh, Stephen," Vanessa said, clasping her hands to her bosom. "And…?" "And of course I said yes," he said. "I was delighted actually. He does not have the best of tailors or boot-makers, perhaps, but he rides to an inch and is reputed to be the devil of a fine fellow and it doesn't really matter that he is not very tall. He has /presence/. And Meg has spent enough time with him in the last few weeks, the Lord knows. One could be forgiven for thinking that she would welcome an offer from him." "But she did not?" she asked. "Refused him out of hand," he said. "Ah," Vanessa said. "She was not fond enough of him after all, then?" "I dashed well don't know," he said. "She refuses to say. Says that has nothing to do with anything. She had made that infernal promise to Papa and she is going to keep it, by God, until I am twenty-one and Kate is married." "Oh, dear," Vanessa said. "I thought perhaps she would consider that things have changed somewhat." "As they dashed well have," he said. "I am /Merton /now, Nessie. I have land and a fortune and a /life/. I have new friends. I have a future. It is not that I don't love Meg. It is not that I am not grateful for all she has done for me since Papa died. I will /never /forget, and I will /always /be grateful. But I resent having to account for my every movement every single hour of the day. And I resent being made the cause of her rejecting the best marriage offer she will probably ever have. If she does not like him well enough, then fine. I applaud her having the gumption to refuse him. But if it is not that… If it is just me…

Ah, this must be Constantine."

He brightened considerably.

Vanessa had no wish to come face-to-face with their cousin. She patted Stephen's arm. "I'll see what she has to say," she said. "Have fun." "Oh, I will," he said. "Constantine is a capital fellow. So is Lyngate, Nessie, I must confess. He keeps an eye on me, it is true, but he does not try to put leading strings on me." He left the house without waiting for Constantine to knock on the door.

Margaret was tight-lipped and uncommunicative when Vanessa arrived in the drawing room and explained that she had just been talking with Stephen. "The trouble with our brother," Margaret said, "is that he thinks his new circumstances have added four years or so to his life. But the truth is, Nessie, that he is still a boy, and a boy who is becoming more rebellious by the hour." "He is a boy who perhaps needs a somewhat less firm hand on his reins," Vanessa suggested. "Oh, not you too," Margaret said, clearly exasperated. "He should be at Warren Hall with his tutors." "And soon he will be," Vanessa said. "He also needs to become acquainted with the world that awaits him when he reaches his majority. But let us not quarrel over him. The Marquess of Allingham has paid his addresses to you?" "It was very obliging of him," Margaret said. "But I have said no, of course." "Of course?" Vanessa raised her eyebrows. "I thought perhaps you were growing fond of him." "Then you thought wrongly," Margaret said. "You of all people ought to know that I cannot even consider marriage until I have fulfilled the obligation to our family that I took on eight years ago." "But Elliott and I live close to Warren Hall," Vanessa said. "And Kate will reach her majority in a few months' time. Stephen will be at university for most of the next several years. By that time he will be a full adult." "But that time is not yet," Margaret said.

Vanessa tipped her head to one side and regarded her closely. "Do you not /want /to marry, Meg?" she asked. /"Ever?"/ Crispin Dew had much to answer for, she thought.

Margaret spread her hands on her lap and contemplated the backs of them. "If I do not," she said, "the time will come when I will have to live at Warren Hall with Stephen's wife as the mistress. Or at Finchley Park with you. Or with Kate somewhere and /her /husband. I suppose the time will come when I will marry anyone who is kind enough to offer. But not yet." Vanessa stared at her bent head. There was a lengthy silence. "Meg," she said eventually, "Stephen probably does not know about… about Crispin, unless Kate has said anything to him. He thinks your refusal of the Marquess of Allingham is all about /him/." "And so it is," Margaret said. "No, it is not," Vanessa said. "It is about Crispin." Margaret lifted her head to look at her, a frown creasing her brow. "Stephen needs to know that," Vanessa said. "He needs to know that he is not responsible for keeping you from happiness." "Stephen /is /my happiness," Margaret said fiercely. "As are you and Kate." "And so you put fetters upon all of us," Vanessa said. "I love you dearly, Meg. I love Kate and Stephen too. But I would not describe any of you as /my happiness/. My happiness cannot come from another person." "Not even Lord Lyngate?" Margaret asked her. "Or Hedley?" Vanessa shook her head. "Not even Hedley or Elliott," she said. "My happiness has to come from within myself or it is too fragile a thing to be of any use to me and too much of a burden to benefit any of my loved ones." Margaret got to her feet and walked to the window to stare down on Berkeley Square below. "You do not understand, Nessie," she said. "/Nobody /understands. When I made my promise to Papa, I knew I was making a twelve-year commitment - until Stephen reached his majority. I am eight years into that commitment. I am not going to shrug free of the remaining four years just because our circumstances have changed, just because you are happily married and Kate is being courted by half a dozen or more eligible gentlemen and Stephen is chafing at the bit to be free. Or because I have had a good offer and might go off to Northumberland to begin a new life and leave Kate and Stephen to your care and Lord Lyngate's. This has /nothing /to do with Crispin Dew. It has nothing to do with /anything /except a promise freely made and gladly carried out.