She will wish to help plan it."

He winced inwardly. "So will Nessie and Kate," she said. "I believe I might safely leave all the details to the three of them. Though I fear it is not in my nature to be passive." "As long as you do not expect /me/ to help," he said, "I will be entirely happy." She laughed, and two unknown gentlemen who were passing on the pavement turned their heads and regarded her with identical looks of admiration.

They arrived at Grosvenor Square a few minutes later, and Duncan rapped on the door of Claverbrook House with the knob of his umbrella.

Forbes opened the door. "Good afternoon," Duncan said briskly, ushering Miss Huxtable inside and following her in. "Lord Sheringford and Miss Huxtable to see the Marquess of Claverbrook. Inform him we are here, Forbes, if you would be so good." Forbes looked from one to the other of them as if to assure himself that they were not impostors. "I will see if his lordship is at home," he said.

Duncan raised his eyebrows and looked down at Miss Huxtable as the butler made his unhurried way up the staircase. "He has been at home for the past twenty years at the very least," he said.

She smiled. "But in all that time," she said, "he has reserved the right to refuse admittance to unwanted guests – as every man and woman is at liberty to do in their own homes. Has he ever refused to admit you?" "No," he said. "He has always been glad of yet another chance to give me a thorough scold on some subject or other." "Then I daresay," she said, "he will admit you today. I suppose he reads the morning papers." She was quite right, of course. No sooner had Forbes disappeared from the head of the stairs than he reappeared there to make his way back down. "Follow me, my lord, miss," he said when he reached the bottom instead of simply hailing them from the top. And he turned to trudge upward again. Perhaps it was his way of keeping reasonably fit, Duncan thought.

Nothing in the drawing room had changed in five days. It would not surprise Duncan to learn that his grandfather had not moved from his chair in all that time. And he was looking in no better a temper. His eyebrows almost met over the bridge of his nose again. "The Earl of Sheringford, m'lord," Forbes announced, "and Miss Huxtable." "You will forgive me, Miss Huxtable," the marquess said, both hands on the head of his cane, which was braced between his legs, "for not getting to my feet. The getting is a slow and rather painful business these days." He ignored Duncan. "But of course, my lord," she said. "Please do not even think of it." "Step forward, young lady," he said.

She stepped forward. "Another step," he commanded, "so that you are in the light from the window. It is infernally dark in here. I suppose it is raining outside.

It usually is. Sheringford, open the curtains a little wider." While Duncan went to do so, his grandfather studied Miss Huxtable in silence. "There has been no official announcement yet," he said at last, addressing himself solely to her, "but the /ton/ has believed such an announcement to be imminent for the past several days. And I suppose it /is/ imminent if Sheringford has brought you here this afternoon. This is no mere social call, I daresay. He has brought you here for my inspection and approval before sending off the announcement to the papers." "Yes, my lord," she said. "That is correct." "Are you a fool, woman?" he asked.

Duncan took one firm step away from the window, but she did not look as if she were about to collapse in a quivering heap of vapors or hysterics. "I do not believe so," she said, her voice quite calm. "Then why are you marrying Sheringford?" he asked her. "Eh? You are not poor. You are not without looks. And your family disapproves – at least that young puppy of a brother of yours does. He told me so in no uncertain terms when he came to pry into my financial worth. He disapproves very strongly." "No longer," she said. "But the important thing is, my lord, that I have agreed to marry the Earl of Sheringford and have come here with him in accordance with your command so that he may keep Woodbine Park as his home and its rents and farm profits as his income after we marry. I have freely agreed to marry him. He has used no coercion whatsoever. My /reasons/ for agreeing concern no one but me – and Lord Sheringford himself." Duncan took another step forward. Good Lord! Had she really just told his grandfather in so many words to mind his own damned business?

There was a pregnant pause. "I daresay," his grandfather said, "it is because of your age. The shelf you are on must have been gathering dust for a number of years. How old are you?" "That also is my own concern, my lord," she said. "As is my practice of always returning courtesy for courtesy and courtesy for /dis/ courtesy.

May I have a seat? It will be more restful for you to look across at me rather than up." Duncan resisted the powerful urge to laugh. Though he might be laughing on the other side of his face in a moment, after his grandfather had dismissed her in his wrath and refused to endorse Duncan's marriage to her. But really, what a priceless setdown – /my practice of always returning courtesy for … discourtesy/. "Sit down," his grandfather commanded gruffly. "You have a saucy tongue, Miss Huxtable." "I beg to disagree, my lord," she said, gathering her skirts about her and seating herself on the edge of a large sofa that looked as if it had not been sat upon for a decade or more. "It is merely that I do not allow myself to be browbeaten." "I daresay," he said, "you have had some practice during the past few days." "They have not been easy days," she admitted. "I am not accustomed to attracting a great deal of attention and I do not enjoy it. But I do not cower away from it either, when I have done no wrong and in no way regret anything I have done to draw that attention. The /ton/, I am sure, will recover its equilibrium after Lord Sheringford and I are married and living quietly and respectably at Woodbine Park. Gossip becomes tedious when there is no fresh scandal to feed it." Except that Toby would be there too and the plan to pass him off as the Harrises' orphaned grandson was to be abandoned. He had been mad to agree to that, Duncan thought. There was going to be no way of confining word of it to the neighborhood. "I understand," the marquess said, "that you are the daughter of a country parson, Miss Huxtable." "I am," she said.

There was a slight pause. "You are not about to rush in to remind me that he was also a descendant of a former Earl of Merton?" he asked her. "Since you knew about the country parson part of my heritage, my lord," she said, "I assume that you know the rest. And since you doubtless know that my brother is the Earl of Merton, I would assume you did not even have to dig very deep to uncover the information. The village was Throckbridge in Shropshire, but I suppose you know that too. If there is anything you do /not/ know and wish to be informed of, I will be pleased to answer your questions." "Except the one concerning your age," he said. "Except," she agreed, "any personal details that cannot concern you at all." "Your age /does/ concern me," he said, thumping his cane on the floor and looking irritable. "Sheringford is my heir, Miss Huxtable, and it is high time he produced an heir of his own. How am I to know that you are still in your breeding years?" Lord! Duncan felt stranded somewhere between the window and the sofa. He was rooted to the spot, if the truth were known – with a horrified sort of embarrassment. It took a great deal to embarrass him, but his grandfather had just succeeded in doing it. He had asked Miss Margaret Huxtable, sister of the Earl of Merton, if she was a breeder.

Specifically if she was still /young/ enough to breed.

He could see only half of her face around the brim of her straw hat. But if he was not much mistaken, she was actually /smiling/. Her voice confirmed the fact when she spoke – there was laughter in it. "You are not to know any such thing, my lord," she said.