Well, perhaps debauched was too strong a word; after all, they had ceased their activities before they’d gotten to any of the truly interesting bits. Nevertheless, Diana carefully avoided contemplating this as her happily oblivious friends made themselves comfortable.

“Would you care to offer an explanation for your behavior today?” Violet asked conversationally.

Diana paused, mock-thoughtful. “Not particularly?” she offered.

This, unsurprisingly, was not deemed a satisfactory response.

“Care to try again?” Violet asked.

“Could you be more specific?” Diana asked, stalling desperately. Emily, seemingly fascinated, was bobbing her head back and forth; Diana wondered what, if anything, Penvale had told them.

“Well,” Violet said, drawing out the word into an improbable number of syllables, “let’s see.” She held up a finger. “You fling Jeremy and Lady Helen together at our picnic today like a puppet master pulling strings.”

“I’d no choice!” Diana protested. “His grandmother was making matrimonial eyes at me and I needed to distract her with someone else to focus on. There aren’t that many unmarried ladies of the party to choose from, you know.”

“Don’t you think this might be taking things a bit far?” Violet asked dubiously.

Diana straightened in her seat in indignation. “That is rich, coming from a lady who spent a fortnight this summer pretending to be dying rather than just simply telling her husband that she was still in love with him.”

Violet colored slightly. “Well, it worked.”

“Precisely. And if a scheme that unhinged can work out in the end, then I’ve no doubt my more clever approach will meet with similar success.”

“Except that now you’ve inflicted Lady Helen Courtenay upon poor Jeremy!” Violet wailed dramatically. “We’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of him in a fortnight.”

“I think Willingham can take care of himself,” Diana said, unmoved. “Lady Helen already had her eye on him, I’ve just… encouraged her in that direction. All with the aim of getting the dowager marchioness to stop staring at me like I’m a pig on its way to the slaughterhouse.”

“You do have such a romantic view of marriage, Diana,” Violet said, laughter in her voice.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about Emily’s behavior than mine?” Diana asked, attempting to change the subject. “She needs a chaperone, since Belfry is here.” The last was uttered in a dramatic stage whisper; glancing at Emily, she was delighted to see her blushing.

“That’s what Jeremy’s grandmother is for,” Violet said, waving a dismissive hand.

Diana snorted. “She doesn’t seem to be overly diligent in that role; I’ve scarcely seen her today at all. Emily and Belfry could have slipped away to some dark corner and—”

At this point, Emily interrupted Diana, murmuring something under her breath as her cheeks took on a suspiciously rosy glow.

“I’m sorry,” Diana said, leaning closer. “Did you just say, ‘We might have done’?”

Emily blushed even harder. “Perhaps,” she hedged.

“Emily Turner,” Violet said admiringly, “I have clearly underestimated you.”

“He asked for a word after breakfast,” Emily explained. “He… he told me it was nice to see me without my mother or Mr. Cartham lurking nearby, and that he hoped we could use this week to become better acquainted.”

“Better acquainted!” Diana said, gleeful. “I’m sure he does hope that. Did he try to become, er, better acquainted with you right there in that dark corner?”

“Diana, really,” Violet objected, close to laughter.

“He was a perfect gentleman,” Emily said defensively, straightening. A note of steel ran through her voice as she defended Belfry. Diana rather wished Emily would deploy said note more often where her parents were concerned.

“In any case, we are not discussing me,” Emily said sternly. “We were busy discussing your odd behavior.”

“Quite right,” Violet said, allowing Emily to change the subject without further comment. “Where was I?” She held up another finger. “After flinging Lady Helen at Jeremy at every opportunity, you then vanish with the aforementioned marquess for a suspiciously long period of time, out of sight of everyone in our party, until your brother has to go and fetch you.”

Diana opened her mouth to speak, but Violet hadn’t finished yet. “And your brother then returns looking uncharacteristically disgruntled, I might add.” She leaned back on the settee, looking like a cat who had just presented its owner with an impressively large mouse. Diana, at least, felt rather like what she imagined a cat owner would feel in that circumstance.

Emily, helpfully, decided to chime in at this point. “It was rather suspicious.”

Diana thought it was for the best that this was her first attempt at dalliance, as she clearly was not very good at it—she and Willingham hadn’t gotten around to anything more interesting than a few kisses, and already they were the subject of gossip.

Still, she reminded herself, trying to shore up what remained of her morale, her goal had been to gain experience. She had certainly learned a few lessons in the past day.