“What do we think of Lady Natalie?” Daisy asked.

“She’s a very nice girl,” Lillian said. “You’ll like her, Daisy. But I could cheerfully murder Father for making marriage a condition of Rafe’s involvement in Bowman’s.”

“He shouldn’t have to marry anyone,” Swift commented, a frown working across his brow. “We need someone to establish the new manufactoriesand I don’t know of anyone other than your brother who understands the business well enough to accomplish it. The devil knows I can’t do itI’ve got my hands full with Bristol.”

“Yes, well, Father’s made marrying Lady Natalie a non-negotiable requirement,” Lillian said with a scowl. “Mostly because Father lives for the chance to make any of his children do something they don’t want to do, the interfering old”

“If he’ll listen to anyone,” Daisy interrupted, “it’s Matthew.”

“I’ll go look for him now,” Matthew said. “I haven’t yet seen him.” He smiled at the group of former wallflowers and added only half in jest, “I worry about leaving the four of you together. You’re not planning any mad schemes, are you?”

“Of course not!” Daisy gave him a little push toward the ballroom entrance. “I promise we’ll be perfectly sedate. Go and find Father, and if he has burst into flames, please put him out quickly.”

“Of course.” But before he left, Matthew drew his wife aside and whispered, “Why do they have holes in their dresses?”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation,” she whispered back, and pressed a fleeting kiss on his jaw.

Returning to the others, Daisy hugged Evie and Annabelle. “I’ve brought loads of gifts for everyone,” she said. “Bristol is a marvelous place for shopping. But it was rather difficult to find presents for the husbands. They all seem to have everything a man could want.”

“Including wonderful wives,” Annabelle said, smiling.

“Does Mr. Hunt have a toothpick case?” Daisy asked her. “I bought an engraved silver one for him. But if he already happens to own one, I do have alternate presents.”

“I don’t think he does,” Annabelle said. “I’ll ask him when he arrives.”

“He didn’t come down with you?”

Annabelle’s smile turned wistful. “No, and I hate being parted from him. But the demand for locomotive production has become so great, Mr. Hunt is always buried in work. He is interviewing people to help carry the load, but in the meantime …” She sighed and shrugged helplessly. “I expect he’ll come after the week’s end, if he can free himself.”

“What of St. Vincent?” Daisy asked Evie. “Is he here yet?”

Evie shook her head, the light sliding over her red hair and striking ruby glints. “His father is ill, and St. Vincent thought it necessary to visit him. Although the duke’s doctors said his condition wasn’t serious, at his age one never knows. St. Vincent plans to stay with him at least three or four days, and then come directly to Hampshire.” Although she tried to sound matter-of-fact, there was a shadow of melancholy in her voice. Of all the former wallflowers and their mates, Evie’s connection with St. Vincent had been the least likely, and the most difficult to fathom. They were not publicly demonstrative, but one had the sense that their private life was intimate beyond ordinary measures.

“Oh, who needs husbands?” Annabelle said brightly, sliding an arm around Evie’s shoulders. “Clearly we have more than enough to keep us very busy until they arrive.”

CHAPTER 8

It was Hannah’s particular torture to have been cast as chaperone, and therefore be forced to sit beside Natalie during the musical soiree that evening, while Rafe Bowman took Natalie’s other side. The entwined harmonies of two sopranos, a baritone, and a tenor were accompanied by piano, flute, and violins. Many of the older children had been allowed to sit in rows at the back of the room. Dressed in their best clothes, the children sat straight and did their best not to fidget, whisper, or wiggle.

Hannah thought wryly that the children were behaving far better than their parents. There was a great deal of gossiping going on among the adults, especially in the lulls between each musical presentation.

She observed that Rafe Bowman was treating Natalie with impeccable courtesy. They seemed charmed by each other. They discussed the differences between New York and London, discovered they had similar tastes in books and music, and they both passionately loved riding. Bowman’s manner with Natalie was so engaging that if Hannah had never encountered him before, she would have said he was the perfect gentleman.

But she knew better.

And Hannah perceived that she was one of many in the room who took an interest in the interactions between Bowman and Natalie. There were the Blandfords, of course, and the Bowman parents, and even Lord Westcliff occasionally glanced at the pair with subtle speculation, a slight smile on his lips. But the person who paid the most attention was Lord Travers, his expression stoic and his blue eyes troubled. It made Hannah’s heart ache a little to realize that here was a man who cared very much about Natalie, and with very little encouragement would love her passionately. And yet all indications pointed to the fact that she would probably choose Bowman instead.

Natalie, you’re not nearly as wise as you think you are, she thought wistfully. Take the man who would make sacrifices for you, who would love you for who you are and not for what he would gain by marrying you.