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“Hopefully things will get back to normal, and before long the coronation will occur. Being engaged and mostly likely married to Bolton by then, I should be able to attend.”

Louisa smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm. “It may take a few months to coordinate such an event. And the poor man has been ill since he ascended, which may delay the ceremony even more.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she replied before sipping her coffee. “Lord Huntley arrived home yesterday, so Mamma wishes to pay a call on Lady Huntley to hear all the news from Windsor. Will you join us?”

“No. You can tell me all about it when you return.”

“Louisa, you should get out. Since you arrived home from Aunt Greyson’s, you have been moping about the house.”

Louisa shrugged. “I suppose I have. I feel as if this might be my last Season, Emma. If I don’t find a husband....”

“Then you shall come live with Bolton and me.”

Louisa tried not to roll her eyes at the thought of living with the dimwitted viscount. “Thank you.”

By afternoon, her mother and sister departed to glean all the news from the funeral while Louisa retired to her bedchamber to read but couldn’t concentrate on the treatise in front of her. With a deep sigh, she walked to the desk and glanced down at the list.

From a good family

Intelligent

A good father

Handsome

Almost three weeks and that was the best she had come up with, and after rereading her list, she crossed out handsome. She wasn’t eighteen any longer, and never had she been any great beauty.

Frustrated with the entire process, she crumbled the paper and threw it toward the fireplace. There seemed little point in the list since Emma had told her most of the gentlemen had already returned. Harry had not arrived home.

The house was dreadfully quiet with her mother and sister departed. When the knocker banged on the front door, Louisa started. Hearing voices, she assumed her mother and sister had returned early. Light footsteps sounded on the steps.

“Louisa, may I come in?”

“Of course.”

Tessa entered the room wearing her black bombazine. “Good afternoon. Mother and Emma are out paying calls, so here I am.” With only another four or so months to go, Tessa’s rounded belly suited her perfectly. After two years of marriage, everyone had thought it might never happen.

“Do you wish to go downstairs where we can be more comfortable?”

Tessa laughed and took the chair by the fireplace. “No, this room is warm, and the salon is cold.” Staring down at her black gown, she said with a sigh, “I will be glad to be out of these dratted mourning rags.”

“Three more weeks until we can move to half-mourning.” Not that Louisa was wearing black since she stayed at home today. Gray wool for a cold, dreary day would suffice.

Louisa rose from her small writing desk and joined her sister by the fire. Glancing down, she noticed the crumpled list that hadn’t quite made it into the fire. Her sister spotted it too and reached down to pick up the paper.

“Secret letters, Louisa?”

“Please don’t read it,” Louisa begged as she tried to grab it from Tessa’s hands.

“Hush, when have we had secrets?” Tessa’s brows furrowed as she opened the wrinkled paper. “What is this?”

There was no point in denying it. She and Tessa had grown up sharing confidences. “It’s a list of what I want in a husband.”

Tessa scanned the shortened list with her lips pressed together as if suppressing a laugh. “This is it? If this was all you wanted in a husband, you should have found a gentleman your first Season.”

“I suppose so.” Perhaps her expectations were too high as Lady Gringham had said, which if true, Louisa should have a long list of requirements, not only three.

“The real question is, why do you need such a list?”

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