Miss Verey’s Proposal

Chapter Four

Jane stared at her friend in stupefaction. ‘Oh, no! Surely that was just a childish game!’

As soon as she had spoken she saw Sophia’s face fall.

‘But, Jane, I thought that you did not mind! You just said-’

‘I know!’ Jane put out a hasty hand to touch Sophia’s. ‘I do not mind for myself, dearest Sophia, for you know that Lord Philip and I would not suit! But the legend of the Eve of St Agnes is just that-a legend! It cannot be true!’

Sophia was looking distinctly obstinate. ‘All I know is that I dreamed of Lord Philip that night and now I have met him! It seems quite simple to me!’

Jane knew that there was no arguing with her. Sophia was a sweet girl but she could be frighteningly stubborn at times. Besides, who was to say that it was not true? Sophia had dreamed of a handsome young man and now she thought that she had met him. She had certainly tumbled into love. What was more surprising was that Lord Philip appeared equally smitten. Jane, remembering the bad-tempered young man who had visited Ambergate, suddenly wondered whether it had been frustration and anger that had made Philip behave as he had. Certainly Alexander Delahaye was imperious enough to try the patience of a saint, as Jane herself had discovered, and if he had pushed Philip beyond endurance…

She moved over to give Sophia an impulsive hug. ‘Oh, Sophy, I’m sorry! I did not mean to appear disbelieving! I am very happy for you!’

Sophia hugged her back, her spirits restored at once. ‘Jane, it is so exciting! I am just sorry that you did not dream of your future husband that night! That would have been marvellous!’

Jane tried not to smile. ‘Well, to tell the truth I did dream of a man that night, but-’

Sophia clutched her. ‘Jane! Why did you not tell me? Who was he?’

Jane dropped her gaze. ‘It was nothing, Sophy! I woke in the night and saw a man in the corridor and then I dreamed about him, but it turned out that he was just one of my parents’ guests…’

Sophia’s brow was furrowed. She focused on the one point of importance. ‘Yes, but, Jane, who was he?’

‘It was the Duke of Delahaye,’ Jane said reluctantly.

Sophia squeaked and clapped her hand to her mouth. Above it, her eyes were huge and round. ‘Jane! The Duke! But-’

‘I told you that the legend could not be true!’ Jane said urgently. ‘Besides, I was awake when I saw him, and although I dreamed of him later I am sure that it does not count.’

Sophia was not so sure. She shook her head stubbornly. ‘But you went to bed without supper? You did not look behind you?’

‘No,’ Jane admitted, wishing she had never mentioned it. ‘It’s true that I did those things, but-’

‘Then it must be true!’ Sophia’s blue eyes widened even further. ‘Oh, Jane, the Duke of Delahaye! Only think!’

Jane was thinking. With a shiver that was half-fear, half-pleasure, she remembered the curious attraction that Alex Delahaye held for her. Would it be so terrible to be married to him? Then she remembered that he wanted her to marry his brother and that he was still in love with his dead wife. How many reasons did she need to prove that it was all foolish superstition? She slid into her bed.

‘It has to be nonsense, Sophy,’ she said firmly. ‘If Alexander Delahaye proves to be my future husband you may have that pair of silk gloves of mine that you so admire-yes, and the straw bonnet with the matching ribbons! That is how certain I am that it will never come true!’

It seemed that Sophia was as anxious to see Lord Philip again as Jane was to avoid him. Jane heard her friend humming at the breakfast table and noticed a distinctly dreamy look on Sophia’s face as she picked at her buttered eggs. When the visitors started to arrive, Sophia’s blue gaze was riveted on the door in much the same way as a dog watches for its master, her face falling as each new arrival proved not to be the man she wanted to see. A whole procession of sharp-eyed mamas and their hopeful daughters were filling up the pink drawing-room and still Lord Philip did not come.

The hum of conversation and clash of teacups grew ever louder. Several ladies noted Lord Philip’s absence and teased Jane about it, their false smiles not quite reaching their eyes. A number of the daughters were casting a thoughtful eye over Simon, who had the look of a man wishing he could remember a pressing engagement elsewhere. More than one debutante was sighing soulfully over Alex Delahaye and his sad romantic history.

The door opened and Lord Philip came in. The assembled ladies cooed a little with pleasure. Jane moved unobtrusively across to a group of debutantes and inserted herself in the middle, making sure that there was nowhere for Lord Philip to sit. She saw Lady Verey glance over in her direction with a meaningful look, then turned her shoulder and pretended to be engrossed in the conversation. When she looked up again, Jane saw that Lord Philip had taken the seat by Sophia, who was pink with suppressed joy.

Lady Verey was not so pleased. When the drawing-room had emptied of their guests, she took her daughter firmly to task.

‘Jane Verey, I do declare you can be the most provoking girl!’ she chided. ‘Lord Philip came here especially to see you! If you think to provoke his interest by appearing unconcerned, you are only being foolish! A gentleman needs some encouragement-a smile here, a soft word there. Try to be more pleasing!’

Jane bit back the retort that Lord Philip was receiving as much encouragement as he needed from a different source. Sophia had turned quite pale at Lady Verey’s attack and was now trying to pretend that she could not hear. With a murmured word of excuse, she slipped out of the room. Lady Verey barely seemed to notice.

‘Surely, Mama,’ Jane said mildly, ‘you can see that Lord Philip has no wish for my company-no more than I have for his! We are not suited.’

Lady Verey looked affronted. ‘Not suited! What nonsense is this? It is my dearest wish that Lord Philip should renew his attentions! Now, he will be at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner tomorrow and I expect to see an improvement in your manner towards him, Jane! Pray show him some partiality!’

‘Excuse me, my lady.’ Golding, the butler, had soft-footed into the room. ‘There is a posy here for Miss Jane.’ He snapped his fingers and the footman hurried forward, carrying a small but exquisite bouquet of tight pink roses.

Lady Verey’s irritated face broke into a smile. ‘From Lord Philip, no doubt! I expect he was too shy to present it himself, the foolish boy!’

Jane took the posy, wondering at her mother’s championing of a man who had been so offensive to her only a month before. No doubt Lady Verey had conveniently ascribed Lord Philip’s behaviour to a temporary aberration or boyish high spirits. She had to agree, however, that the flowers were beautiful, each tiny bud a deep pink colour and on the point of unfurling. She extracted the card and handed the flowers back to the footman to put in water. Much as she would like to send them back, it seemed a churlish gesture and Lady Verey would never permit it. She could not resist a certain curiosity to see the message. What could Lord Philip say to her that would not appear either rude or insincere?

The bold black writing had come from another pen, however. It was not an apology, only a name: Alexander Delahaye.

Jane caught her breath and pressed the card to her chest in case her mother was about to snatch it from her. Lady Verey was still twittering on about Lord Philip and his thoughtful choice of flowers and Jane did not contradict her. She excused herself as quickly as possible and flew up the stairs to her bedroom. The posy was already on a side table by the window, its pink buds just tinged with gold. Jane hesitated. She could have torn the card into pieces and thrown it away, but instead she placed it carefully in a drawer, on a bed of silk ribbons.

The sensation at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner was caused not by the presence of Lord Philip Delahaye but by that of his elder brother. For years the hostesses of the ton had tried to entice the Duke of Delahaye from his self-imposed seclusion, offering him the most tempting food and the best company. For years he had rejected all invitations. Yet that evening he arrived with Lord Philip in a convincing show of brotherly unity and caused Lady Winterstoke positively to crow with triumph.

Jane’s heart had sunk when she saw them come in. It seemed that the Duke and his brother must be forever dogging her steps and spoiling things for her. After all, it was Alexander Delahaye’s avowed intent to wear down her resistance until she capitulated and agreed to the marriage. She had spent much time thinking of the bouquet he had sent her and had come to the practical conclusion that it was an attempt to soften her feelings towards the match. Well-her pretty face set into lines of obstinate disapproval-it would not work! No matter how romantic it had seemed at first, in truth it was just another means by which Alex Delahaye hoped to manipulate her!

Accordingly, she was looking very severe when Lady Winterstoke brought the Duke and Lord Philip over to them as the guests assembled before dinner.

‘I was about to inquire how you were enjoying yourself, Miss Verey,’ Alex said lazily, once greetings had been exchanged, ‘but you look so forbidding that I hardly dare! Can it be that Town does not agree with you?’

Jane checked to see whether her mother was listening. Fortunately Lady Verey was intent on engaging Lord Philip in innocuous conversation and deflecting his attention from Sophia. She gave the Duke a dazzling smile. ‘Well, your Grace, it is not all bad, I suppose! The theatres and concerts are great fun but the company is sadly lacking-it seems to be the same people saying the same things to each other at the same events!’

Alex smiled. ‘That’s frank, Miss Verey! You are not afraid to blight your social position by appearing an eccentric? Young ladies are meant to be bowled over by the sophisticated charms of the Town, you know!’

‘It seems to me that a lot of nonsense is talked about Society!’ Jane said judiciously. ‘If people enjoy the company and the entertainments then so be it, but if they prefer other pursuits then they should be allowed their choice!’

‘How singular,’ Alex said thoughtfully, ‘and how true! You are quite fearless, are you not, Miss Verey? I know of no other lady who would express such a view even if they believed it!’

‘Yet you yourself do not succumb to the charms of Society a great deal, if the stories are true,’ Jane pointed out, feeling at the same time that her tongue was probably running away with her again. ‘I had heard that the Duke of Delahaye chooses to immure himself in his northern stronghold with only his books for company!’

‘And his faithful dogs,’ Alex added. ‘Do not forget the dogs, Miss Verey! What else do they say of me?’

‘Oh, many things,’ Jane said, plying her fan, ‘but none of them appropriate for a young lady to repeat in company!’

They laughed together, stopped together and stood looking at each other in a silence that seemed curiously loaded. Only a foot away, Sophia was chattering to Philip and Lady Verey was gossiping with one of her acquaintances. Jane made an effort to break the silence.

‘I must thank you for the flowers, sir. They were very beautiful.’

‘They reminded me of you,’ Alex said abruptly. ‘Excuse me, Miss Verey.’

Jane was left feeling breathless and disconcerted. She had imagined him a man accustomed to paying light compliments, but his unexpected words and hasty departure had none of the polish that might have been expected. Frowning a little, she watched him cross the room, spare a word for a distinguished gentleman in uniform, then be artfully ambushed by a dashing blonde in a clinging scarlet silk dress. Jane felt a vague depression settle on her.

Excusing herself to her mother, Jane slipped away to the ladies’ withdrawing room so that she should not be obliged to make stilted conversation with Lord Philip. Whilst tweaking her curls back into place, she reflected that the Duke was likely to be one step ahead of her in arranging for his brother to escort her in to dinner. The seating would no doubt be in order of precedence but, at a word from Alex Delahaye, Lady Winterstoke would gladly rearrange her table plan. Peeking down the corridor to confirm that she was not being watched, Jane decided to detour via the dining-room and examine the place cards.

Her suspicions had been justified. Lord Philip’s place was set beside hers and he was a long way away from Sophia for good measure. Jane made a little adjustment and was on her way back to the drawing-room when, in the doorway, she collided abruptly with a broad chest.

‘Oh!’

‘We meet again, Miss Verey,’ the Duke of Delahaye said, in the deceptively soft tones that Jane had already come to distrust. ‘Have you lost something?’

‘No!’ Jane knew that a guilty blush was staining her cheeks. ‘That is-I lost my way!’

‘I see. I had thought that your penchant for food had led you to try to steal a march on the rest of us!’

Jane looked surprised. ‘Who told you that I enjoyed my food, sir?’

‘Why, I believe that it was my aunt, Lady Eleanor. She commented that you had a sweet tooth.’ Alex offered her his arm and they strolled back across the hall towards the drawing-room. ‘No doubt it was ungallant in me to mention it, but I have to confess that you look very good on it, Miss Verey! Not all young ladies are fortunate enough to be able to eat as they choose and not look the worse for it!’

Jane, relieved that he had not discovered her activities in the dining-room and guilty at spinning another tale, started to colour once again. Alex was watching her with undisguised interest.

‘I am not sure whether it is guilt or pleasure that makes you look so, Miss Verey! If only it were my poor compliments that put you to the blush!’

Jane found herself unable to resist responding in kind. ‘I am sure that most young ladies would be overcome to be the object of your gallantry, your Grace!’ she said sweetly.

‘But not you, Miss Verey? No doubt that is your implication!’

‘Alas, I have always been told that I am not like all the rest!’ Jane said innocently. ‘You said so yourself!’ She dropped him a neat curtsy and went to join her mother, managing not to look back at him over her shoulder.

Alex watched her go. ‘No, indeed,’ he said softly, under his breath. ‘You are not like anyone else, Miss Verey! I would venture to say that you are completely original!’

The butler arrived to announce that dinner was served. Jane was delighted to see Alex move away to attend to his duties as escort to a Dowager Countess in regal purple. She confidently expected that that would leave the field clear for her to exchange partners. Next, Lady Verey was claimed by an elderly baronet, who seemed flatteringly pleased at his good luck. That got rid of the final obstacle to Jane’s plan. All it required now was for Lord Philip to be recalled to his duty as her escort. Unfortunately he seemed disinclined to leave Sophia’s side. Jane wondered whether he meant to cut her anyway, and thought this would be rather funny after all the trouble she had gone to. But no, Sophia was gently encouraging her beau to relinquish her and escort her friend. As Lord Philip approached, Jane stepped forward to intercept him.

‘I am so very sorry, my lord, but I fear that there has been a mistake,’ she said, with a winning smile. ‘I happened to see the table plan and I fear that Lady Winterstoke has made an error, for she has placed Miss Marchment by your side rather than myself.’ She saw Lord Philip cast an incredulous glance in Sophia’s direction and added, ‘I am sure that we would not wish to embarrass our hostess, so the best thing would surely be for us to exchange escorts. I hope that Lord Blakeney could be prevailed upon to accompany me, if you would be so good as to offer Miss Marchment your arm.’

‘Miss Marchment! Yes, of course!’ Lord Philip had regained Sophia’s side in less time than it had taken Jane to suggest it. She saw him speak earnestly in Sophia’s ear, saw her friend look dubiously towards her and gave them a little smile and a nod of encouragement.

‘I am so sorry, Lord Blakeney,’ Jane said, turning to the young peer, ‘you will have to make do with me rather than Miss Marchment! All in a good cause!’

It had indeed been Lady Winterstoke’s intention that Lord Philip should escort Miss Verey in to dinner and she was mortified by the social disaster that had so nearly occurred.

When she saw Philip tenderly seating Sophia beside him, saw Jane with Blakeney and realised that the place cards were all in the wrong order, she could only bless the strange fate that had led the girls to accept the wrong escorts. No doubt the maids had jumbled the cards, which was irritating for she had given them the strictest instructions! Such social ineptitude would have been death to her reputation as a fashionable hostess!

Heaving a sigh of relief, Lady Winterstoke applied herself to the watercress soup. She cast a look at the Duke of Delahaye, bearing in mind that it had been his express wish that Lord Philip escort Miss Verey. She saw that Alex was also watching Jane Verey and there was a look of mingled exasperation and amusement on his face.

Jane was also aware of Alex’s scrutiny. She knew that he had guessed that she had engineered the change of placements and had also exchanged escorts with Sophia. Thinking back, he would remember meeting her in the dining-room and immediately realise that she had told him yet another falsehood. The thought made her feel more miserable than she would have expected. She set her jaw firmly. She had warned him that she would do everything in her power to avoid Lord Philip. If the Duke thought badly of her, it would only reinforce his existing opinion that she was a liar and cheat.

After dinner there was impromptu dancing in the salon, which the older guests watched indulgently whilst the younger took part. Jane, whirling around the floor in Lord Blakeney’s arms, decided that she had enjoyed the evening very much. A moment later she caught sight of the Duke of Delahaye talking to the elegant blonde woman again, and changed her mind. The evening had been a sad bore after all.

‘Lady Francine Dennery,’ Blakeney said, in answer to Jane’s unspoken question. ‘She’s the widow of the Eleventh Earl of Dennery and the scourge of the Twelfth Earl! He don’t approve of his wicked stepmother! Not sure where she came from, but we can all guess where she’s going! She aims to crown her career with ducal strawberry leaves!’

It seemed that Lady Dennery had her quarry well within her sights. Her blonde head was bent close to Alex Delahaye’s dark one and there was a provocative little smile on her red lips. As Jane watched, Lady Dennery brushed her fingers swiftly across the Duke’s hand, an intimate little gesture full of meaning. Jane hastily looked the other way.

The last dance of the evening was a quadrille and Jane had promised it to Henry Marchnight. She was not a little taken aback to find the Duke of Delahaye approaching her instead.

‘Marchnight has asked me to present you his apologies and myself as a poor substitute,’ Alex said, smiling at Lady Verey in a manner that Jane was annoyed to see made her poor mother melt completely. ‘His sister has torn a flounce and twisted her ankle, and demands to be taken home at once! I promised him that I would try to make amends!’

‘I am sure that Jane is greatly flattered, your Grace,’ Lady Verey said, when Jane had singularly failed to provide any response of her own. ‘Come, Jane,’ she added sharply, ‘thank the Duke for his condescension!’

Jane thought that she saw Alex wince. ‘I assure you that the privilege is all mine, ma’am,’ he murmured, ‘but if Miss Verey does not care for my company…’

Jane met his eyes. She had been expecting to see mockery there and was taken aback that he was not even smiling. For some reason she felt a need to hurry in and reassure him. It seemed ridiculous-he was a Duke and had all the assurance that his fifteen years’ seniority could give him. Surely he did not need a green girl to convince him that she appreciated his company! And yet…

‘Thank you, sir,’ she murmured. ‘I should be very glad to dance with you.’

Alex took her hand and looked so genuinely pleased that Jane felt her heart leap. She almost drew back, appalled to find her pulse racing at his touch. It was shocking to feel so vulnerable to him, both mentally and physically, and she had no notion how to deal with her feelings. She only knew that she was becoming involved in something too complex to handle.

‘The evening has been quite a triumph for you, has it not, Miss Verey?’ Alex said quietly, so that only she could hear. ‘I did appreciate your manoeuvre at dinner-a masterful piece of strategy! I find that I have to admire you for that!’

The figure of the dance separated them at that moment.

‘Thank you, your Grace,’ Jane said when they came back together again.

Alex gave her a broad smile that Jane found deeply disturbing. ‘No pointless denials, Miss Verey? I admire that too!’ The smile faded and his gaze became as brilliant as a sword thrust. ‘You are ahead on points, I cannot deny it, but the game is not yet over! We shall see who triumphs in the end!’

Jane’s heart skipped a beat but she gave him a look of limpid innocence. ‘No doubt we shall be seeing a great deal of you then, sir.’

‘I expect so.’

‘Do you attend Lady Aston’s masquerade on Thursday? I believe that your brother is invited!’

‘A masquerade!’ Alex looked quizzical. ‘Such potential for dissembling, Miss Verey!’

The dance ended. Jane dropped a little curtsy. ‘Indeed, sir! We are all looking forward to it! I have a pink domino that I am told is all the crack!’

Alex took her hand and kissed it, his eyes laughing at her. ‘Giving secrets to the enemy, Miss Verey?’

‘Perhaps so, perhaps not!’ Jane withdrew her hand before he could feel it tremble and realise his effect on her. That was one secret she did not intend to give away. She was not at all sure why she had mentioned the masquerade, for it would have suited her plans better for Alex not to be present. Yet the urge to see him again had been a powerful one, a dangerous one. She did not like to examine the reasons for it too closely. As he escorted her back to Lady Verey’s side, Jane saw Lady Dennery catch his eye with a significant little glance. At once, Jane felt young and naïve to have succumbed to the charm of a man who evidently preferred more sophisticated company. No doubt he would deliver her to her mother, then forget all about her. It was foolish to expect anything else and she had only herself to blame for being such a starry-eyed innocent.

Simon was alone in the Breakfast Parlour when Jane came down the following day. He was dressed for riding and was flicking through the Morning Post, but cast the paper aside with a smile when his sister slid into the seat opposite.

‘Good morning, sis! How are you?’

He poured her some chocolate whilst Jane helped herself to a large portion of kidney and bacon.

‘I am very well, I thank you.’ Jane fixed him with a businesslike eye. ‘Simon, I need to ask you something. How is it that you and the Duke of Delahaye are become such firm friends so quickly? It is particularly unfortunate, because I need your support against him in this ridiculous plan to marry me off to Lord Philip!’

A slight frown marred Simon’s brow. He was accustomed to his sister’s painful directness, although several years away from her company had lulled him into a false sense of security. He looked at her critically as she despatched her breakfast with an efficiency that argued a hearty appetite, if a certain lack of delicacy. He was forced to admit that Jane had grown into a strikingly attractive girl, with her jet black hair and the flyaway black brows that seemed only to emphasise the bright intelligence in those green eyes. Jane was no country mouse, nor could he imagine her playing the part just to find a husband in the marriage mart of ton Society. As for the suggestion that she make a marriage of convenience to Lord Philip, well, it seemed absurd. Except that he knew that his mother’s heart was set on it and Alex Delahaye seemed insistent…He sighed unhappily.

The impatient drumming of Jane’s slender fingers on the tablecloth reminded him that she was still awaiting his reply.

‘Alex and I are not particular friends-’ Simon prevaricated.

‘Alex!’ his sister interrupted, investing the word with scorn. ‘You seem to be on first-name terms, at the very least!’

Simon sighed again. The martial light in Jane’s eyes suggested that this was going to be difficult. ‘Alex Delahaye is a friend of Harry Marchnight’s,’ he said carefully. ‘He asked Harry to introduce us because he was concerned to avoid any…difficulties…that might have arisen as a result of Lord Philip’s behaviour towards you. The trip to Ambergate and the rumours…’ He could feel himself floundering.

‘Difficulties?’ Jane was momentarily distracted. ‘Simon, what exactly did Lord Philip say about me?’

Simon shifted uncomfortably and avoided his sister’s eye. He had no intention of stirring up the malicious gossip again. ‘Why, nothing much to the purpose! It’s better to forget it all now that everything is smoothed over! But Alex was anxious to avoid misunderstandings, or the possibility of me calling Philip out-as though I would waste my time on such a silly young cub!’

‘I see.’ Jane stirred her chocolate slowly. ‘Then as you think him of so little account, you will understand my rejection of his suit! I may count on your support!’

Simon began to perceive that he had made a tactical mistake. Jane’s mind was evidently more alert than his at ten in the morning. He smiled reluctantly.

‘The trouble is…’ He hesitated. He knew she was about to make mincemeat of him. ‘The difficulty lies in a business transaction that is to be completed this very morning…’ He watched Jane put her cup down and fix him with an unnervingly wide green stare. ‘Knowing of my financial constraints at Ambergate, Alex has arranged to advance me a considerable sum on generous terms-’

‘You sound like Pettishaw,’ Jane said, with deceptive calm. ‘Are you trying to tell me that you have sold me into marriage with Lord Philip in return for a loan to help you renovate Ambergate? I know the house is in sad need of repair, but surely your sister’s happiness is too high a price to pay?’

‘Dash it, Jane, you’re running on like a novel from the circulating library!’ Simon spluttered, his conscience pricking him. ‘I mean no such thing! Of course you don’t have to marry the man if you do not wish, but…’ he risked a look at her face ‘…if you could just be nice to him for a few weeks it would help me immensely! Truth is, I’d never get the chance of such good terms from anywhere else and as Alex has seen fit to offer his help-’

‘Yes, I wonder why that should be?’ Jane marvelled in an innocent tone. Alex Delahaye’s words to her at Almack’s rang in her ears. It would help your brother if there were investment in Ambergate…There is always a way…‘Take care when you sign the agreement, Simon, or you may find your inheritance disappearing into the vast Delahaye estates!’

Simon looked affronted. ‘What the devil has Alex done to deserve such opprobrium? You make him sound like a dashed moneylender! From all I hear he’s as straight a man to do business with as one could wish!’

Jane shrugged, feeling a little ashamed of herself. She could hardly tell Simon of Alex’s threats at Almack’s and, as the Duke had seen fit to apologise, it seemed ungracious of her to continue to suspect him. And yet it made her uncomfortable. To think that he had an interest in Ambergate and a growing friendship with Simon brought him a little too close for comfort. It was almost enough to put her off her toast. She eyed the dish of butter with disfavour. This really was not to be borne! Alex Delahaye had achieved what no other man had ever done, and put her off her food!

After Simon had gone out, secretly relieved that his sister had not made more of a scene, Jane poured herself another cup of chocolate and sat back to consider matters. She had believed the Duke entirely when he said that the game had only just begun. It would never do to underestimate him and, rather disconcertingly, she thought that he already had her measure. The patronising attitude he had assumed at Almack’s had been replaced by something far more dangerous-the watchful respect a man might show a real adversary. The barriers seemed formidable. Ranged against her to a greater or lesser degree were her own family, who would be happy to see the match made with Lord Philip, as well as the Duke and Lady Eleanor. Worse, she would have to guard against her own wayward heart, which, despite her opposition to him, was inclined to consider Alexander Delahaye with far more warmth than was at all prudent for her peace of mind.