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“I suppose we weren’t the first couple in the world to make love there, but it was a revelation to me.” Her eyes were soft even thinking of it. “I think I conceived this child that very day.” Her hand drifted over her perfectly flat stomach. Esme let herself wonder for a moment whether sitting rooms were particularly conducive to conception, then pushed the thought away. Her baby was Miles’s—or rather, her own.

“That’s lovely,” she said, straining to sound rational.

“I know,” Carola said with a merry grimace, “I’ve become terribly boring since Tuppy and I reunited. I can’t seem to think about anything but him.”

“Well, I have a subject of interest for you,” Esme said. “Do you remember our plan to effect that reunion with Tuppy? I have a friend, Henrietta, who needs similar help.”

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Carola’s eyes sparkled with interest. “A bedtrick!” she cried. “I’m an expert on that subject!”

“Not quite,” Esme said. “It’s more complicated than that, although it’s essentially the same thing. We need to convince a man that he has compromised Henrietta’s virtue. We need to make it absolutely impossible for him to refuse marriage.”

Carola’s eyes grew round. “This man compromised your friend and is refusing to marry her? What a blackguard!”

“Not exactly,” Esme said.

“What do you mean, not exactly? Either he did or he didn’t.”

“He didn’t.”

“Well, then, he’d have to be an awful fool,” Carola said.

“There’s another wrinkle,” Esme said. “The man in question is my nephew Darby.”

“Darby? Simon Darby? You have to be joking!”

“No, I’m not. We’re going to arrange it so that he has to marry Henrietta. He needs her, but he simply doesn’t understand that yet. For one thing, my child, if male, will disinherit him, and Henrietta has a fortune. And for another, she would be a wonderful mother to his two small sisters. Did you know that Darby is raising his sisters?”

“Well, of course,” Carola said, “all of London knows that. But how on earth—”

“We’ve made up some evidence,” Esme said serenely.

“And if I say so myself, the evidence is fairly damning. All we have to do is present it, and everything will fall into place. Darby will have to marry her.”

Carola was shaking her head, but at that moment Rees Holland walked up and bowed.

“Lady Rawlings,” he said, putting an impatient kiss on her hand. “Very kind of you to put me up like this. Where is Darby?” He acknowledged Carola with a mere bend of his head.

“Lord Godwin, may I introduce Lady Perwinkle,” Esme Fool for Love

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said, overlooking Rees’s extreme rudeness. After all, it wasn’t pointed at her. He acted this way toward the world in general.

“Pleased to meet you,” the earl growled, throwing a brief bow in Carola’s direction. “Has Darby made an appearance yet?”

“Not yet,” Esme said, controlling her irritability. No wonder Helene couldn’t stay married to the man. He looked as if he were invited to a badger hunt. Oh, his coat was well made enough, and his shirt was white, but his hair was even longer than Darby’s. Moreover, he had ink spots on his fingers.

“In that case, I’ll go roust him from his chambers,” Rees said, rough amusement in his voice. “The peacock is probably still gazing at the mirror and trying to decide which coat to wear.” He walked off without further ado.

“Helene’s husband is deplorably rude,” Carola said crossly. “Honest to God, I’ve met the man at least six times, and each time he acts as if he had never seen me before.”

“You can’t take it personally,” Esme observed. “The only reason he recognizes me is because I’m Darby’s aunt.”

“What on earth were you thinking, inviting him to the dinner?” Carola asked. “Helene is here, isn’t she?”