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After she’d washed her face and put on a walking dress to take some fresh air in the large, beautifully landscaped gardens that surrounded the Earl of Quamby’s London residence, she happened upon Aunt Antoinette seated on a curved garden seat in a little arbour. As soon as Katherine rounded the corner, the gentleman with whom her aunt appeared to be engaged in earnest conversation, and she was sure they’d been holding hands, leapt to his feet, offered a cursory bow, and disappeared amongst the trees.

Aunt Antoinette smiled at the look on Katherine’s face and patted the seat beside her on the garden bench.

“Don’t be shocked, Katherine. As a married woman who has provided my husband with the required heir, I have licence to follow my heart. Dear besotted Raoul feeds my vanity and is quite unsuitable for the role of anything other than what we might have referred to in my younger days as a cicisbeo. But he is necessary to my happiness. You will learn such things are permissible, with discretion, if you are unfortunate enough to contract a marriage that isn’t a match of hearts.”

“A cicisbeo?” repeated Katherine, sinking down onto the cushion beside her aunt. She felt unaccountably shocked, though of course she knew her aunt enjoyed the company of men not her husband.

Aunt Antoinette stroked her fine pigskin gloves and looked reflective. “Marriage is not always what one expects it will be, though young women today are given greater licence to follow their hearts and inclination than they were in my day, and certainly in your grandmother’s era before romantic love was given the acceptability it’s gained today.” She tucked a curl behind her niece’s ear and added, “However, it appears you’ve done your best to ensure you know well and truly what to expect of the man you’re considering to be your husband—in all respects. Your mother would be scandalised, and I’m not sure I entirely approve but I daresay I am to blame.”

Katherine seized her unexpected chance. “It’s true what you have to say, Aunt and…” Nervously she plucked at her skirts. “Which reminds me…well, could I have more of what you gave me the other day? Those Saint Anne’s Lace seeds?”

“Why, Katherine, what does this mean?” Aunt Antoinette frowned. “You need to reassure me that you’re in love. You’re not like me. You favour your mother in matters of the heart. There was only one man for her, and she was determined to have him at any cost. You’re not…taking this newfound knowledge of yours and experimenting—”

“Heavens, no!” Katherine felt her cheeks flaming. “Oh Aunt, there is only one man I love. And I love him, truly, deeply, but I fear—” She broke off.

“Come, Katherine; tell me.” Her aunt smiled in sympathy. “You fear your parents may not approve? That they would consider him an unsuitable match?”

Sadly, Katherine nodded, wavering as to whether to confide in Aunt Antoinette. A flare of hope took hold as she contemplated whether her bold and adventurous aunt might go so far as to suggest how Katherine could indeed pursue Jack in a way that their families would consider appropriate, and that wouldn’t hinder Jack’s ambitions. Wildly, she wondered if perhaps she could become a governess in a family near to where Jack would be residing for the first year.

“Katherine!”

They looked up as Lady Fenton advanced, smiling.

“Katherine, darling, Mary was wondering where you were in order to dress your hair before she starts work on mine.” Lady Fenton gave a long-suffering sigh. “The fashions in hair today take twice as long as they did in my day, and I’m not sure I like them half as much.” She stroked her daughter’s cheek. “You, of course, look charming whatever the prevailing style and I’m sure you’ll be as great a success tonight as you have been to date.” Her look clouded. “There are many fine gentlemen other than the ones you’ve already met from whom you can take your pick. Please don’t be exclusive, my dear. Why, there are weeks before the season winds down, and you’ve only just begun.”

“Katherine declares her heart is already engaged,” Aunt Antoinette said with a smile that made Katherine squirm. Oh Lord, she couldn’t reveal Jack as the one, and she was very much afraid she’d blurt something inappropriate or even a lie. Her mother always seemed to catch her out in those.

“I really have to hurry if I’m to be ready for tonight,” she mumbled, rising and hurrying away, leaving her mother and aunt staring after her.

Fanny had become deeply troubled by her daughter’s odd behaviour the last few days. She frowned and bit her lip. “You don’t suppose it’s Mr Marwick who’s captured her heart, do you?” she asked, taking a seat by her sister.

Antoinette smiled. “I can’t think who else it could be? He’s been very particular in his attentions, and Katherine seems to have been besotted from the evening she met him.” She put her head closer and said in confidential tones, “In fact, they shared a kiss in the corridor at Lady Maxwell’s which, if I recall correctly, was within a very short time of their meeting.”

“A kiss? Well, as long as it was only a kiss,” Fanny said, distractedly, thinking of her far worse behaviour when she was determined to snare her darling Fenton. Behaviour that might land Katherine in greater trouble than it had Fanny. Fanny, after all, knew that Fenton was lauded as an honourable gentleman and would make the most perfect husband. Indeed, he had fulfilled every aspiration Fanny had ever had.

“Fanny, I know you don’t like the idea because of his relationship to your late Lord Slyther, but he’s a fine catch. The future Lord Marples.”

Fanny nibbled the tip of her little finger. “I know, I know. Oh Antoinette!” she blurted out. “I do hope Katherine hasn’t lost her heart to him for I’ve heard some very concerning things about Mr Marwick lately.”

“Rumours? Why, what gentleman of any interest doesn’t have some scandal attached to them?”

“Please don’t sound so sceptical. This is my daughter’s happiness we’re talking about.”

Antoinette inclined her head and looked suitably contrite. “Very well, tell me what you’ve heard.”

“It’s only rumour at this stage; I do admit that. You see, I heard that Mr Marwick is not in fact as plump in the pocket as he would have others believe.”

Antoinette looked scandalised. “You’d stop your daughter marrying a man she loved because he didn’t have a fat enough pocketbook? Really, Fanny, I can’t say that I’m not utterly appalled you would behave with as much cavalier disregard for your daughter’s happiness as…well, our own mother.”

Fanny knew she deserved her sister’s censure to a degree, but there was more that niggled. “Please don’t accuse me of being anything like our mother,” she begged. “Of course, I can’t but hope that Katherine will make a match that is worthy of her. She could attract a man of substance and charm. Why, she could have anyone she wants, I do believe. I’ve just heard that Mr Marwick is something of a buccaneer. Also, that he’s been associated with a number of women—”

“A man in his position is bound to attract interest from the feminine sex.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. But he’s fond of gaming and he’s not terribly successful, I’ve heard. He’s lost a great deal of money, lately, in fact—”

“I’m fond of gaming too, my dear. Most men are fond of gaming. It’s what a young man of his class with too much leisure does. He just needs a good woman—a clever, engaging wife—to exert the right influence over him.”

Fanny rose. There was no point in arguing with Antoinette when her opinion was made up as it certainly was in this case. And perhaps she was right. Perhaps Fanny was putting rumour ahead of her daughter’s happiness—simply because she thought Katherine could do better than Mr Marwick.

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