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his displeasure at their behaviour by turning it all upon his son, for speaking out of turn. Nobody would now guess that he was far from happy about the match. Or the way it had come about. Nor even the fact that he’d had to announce the betrothal at breakfast, rather than at the ball later on, as he’d planned.

      ‘Good grief,’ said a man who looked so very much like Staines that he had to assume they were brothers. ‘She’s finally deigned to drop the handkerchief.’

      ‘No call for vulgarity of that sort, Whitney,’ said Lord Mountnessing, confirming his suspicion that they were related. ‘Mixed company.’

      There were only two ladies present. One of whom was Lady Julia. The other, a matron who was rigged out in full hunting gear, uttered a little gurgle of laughter.

      ‘No need to mince words for my benefit,’ she said. ‘I think it’s marvellous. Especially the fact that I’m clearly one of the first to find out about this sudden turn of events. Your other aunts are going to be green with envy, Julia dear, that I found out before they did.’

      She popped a forkful of eggs into her mouth with a cat-like smile.

      ‘So,’ said Lord Staines, dourly, ‘I suppose this means you are going to break out the champagne.’

      ‘Too early for that,’ replied the earl, firmly.

      ‘I didn’t mean at the breakfast table,’ retorted Lord Staines.

      ‘No?’

      Lord Staines glowered at his father. And Alec, who’d put the man’s ruddy complexion down to his love of outdoor pursuits, now wondered whether it owed as much to consumption of alcohol.

      ‘We will have champagne tonight, to mark the occasion,’ said the earl to Lady Julia, turning his shoulder to his heir. ‘Instead of making the announcement just before supper, as I’d planned, we’ll let everyone know that this year’s Hunt Ball will serve as your betrothal ball as well. I am sure all those radicals, who are forever decrying the shocking extravagance of the ruling classes, will applaud the economy of utilising an occasion when all your family are already about you.’

      ‘Just as you say, Papa,’ she said, half-rising from her seat to place a dutiful kiss upon his cheek.

      Her apparent meekness made him feel a trifle nauseous. The last thing she wanted was to have a ball celebrating her union with a man she detested. And as for being pleased that all her family would be about them—neither the earl nor his daughter, from what he’d observed, seemed all that fond of any of the others.

      But perhaps it was as well to know exactly how duplicitous she could be. Alec would be on his guard with her, which would stand him in better stead heading into the choppy waters of the matrimonial sea, than the blinkered hopes and dreams of men who believed their brides were paragons of virtue. He was at least going into this with his eyes open. There would be no shocks along the way. For he’d already seen her at her worst.

      ‘My sweet,’ he said, when at last she’d finished pushing a selection of meats and bread around her plate, signifying the end of breakfast. ‘Will you allow me to escort you for a walk about the gardens?’

      ‘In this weather?’ The man who looked so very like Lord Staines shot a disbelieving glance out the window.

      ‘You’re going hunting in it, Herbert,’ Julia retorted.

      ‘Yes but I don’t care about getting my clothes muddied,’ he replied scornfully.

      ‘Plenty of gravel walks in the grounds,’ put in the matron, with a twinkle in her eye. ‘So she won’t need to get her skirts muddy and there are all sorts of convenient little outbuildings, should it come on to rain.’

      Did everyone feel they had the right to make observations about how he intended to spend his day?

      ‘Captain Lord Dunbar won’t have time for strolling round the grounds this morning,’ Lord Mountnessing informed the table at large. ‘I’ve arranged for Benson—my man of business,’ he explained to Alec, ‘to attend us in the library. We have a lot of documents to sign.’

      ‘Plenty of time for that, I should have said,’ remarked Lord Staines.

      ‘No, you really shouldn’t,’ replied his father coldly.

      Lord Staines narrowed his eyes. His lips twisted into the beginnings of a snarl.

      ‘What Papa meant,’ put in Lady Julia swiftly, ‘is that we are going to marry very soon. As soon as can be arranged. So there isn’t much time.’

      Lord Staines didn’t look the slightest bit grateful to her for attempting to smooth over their father’s cutting remark. Instead, he turned his venom on her.

      ‘You? The embodiment of all the virtues? Getting married in a hurry? To a man you only met two days ago?’ He laughed rather nastily. ‘You do know what people are going to say, don’t you? They are going to say you have to get married. Lord, if that were only true! I’d give a monkey to hear you’d been knocked off that pedestal on which you stand looking down your nose at all us lesser mortals.’

      ‘That’s enough, Staines,’ growled Lord Mountnessing, as Lady Julia turned an even deeper shade of red.

      ‘By Gad, I think you’ve hit the nail on the head,’ cried his brother. ‘Just look at her face!’

      Indignation sent him surging to his feet.

      ‘If either one of you,’ he snarled, glaring from one sneering, malevolent face to the other, ‘dare repeat such foul accusations again, I shall—’ He stopped, recalling that it wasn’t the done thing to duel with one’s brothers-in-law. Even if they hated her. Which it appeared, from their faces and the pleasure they took in baiting her, that they did.

      He didn’t know what she’d done to rouse that hatred, but whatever it was, no man who had a sister ought to treat her with such contempt. Especially not in public.

      ‘The reason we have decided to marry so swiftly is—’

      ‘Is none of their business,’ Julia said, cutting him off before he had time to manufacture an excuse. ‘Don’t descend to their level. They’d enjoy nothing better than starting a brawl over the breakfast table.’ She gave them a scornful look.

      Lord Mountnessing rose from the table. ‘Come, my lord. We have more important issues to deal with than petty family squabbles.’ He tossed his napkin on the table with the sort of disdain that told everyone present exactly what he thought of his sons.

      ‘I shall have to go,’ he said, bending down to murmur into Julia’s ear, hoping it looked as though he was whispering an endearment. ‘But I must speak with you privately at some time today. When can we meet?’

      She twisted her own napkin between her fingers. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know. I have a thousand-and-one things to do today.’

      ‘I won’t have you avoiding me,’ he growled. This was what Lizzie was already doing—coming up with feeble excuses when what they needed to do was sit down in private and talk. ‘If you don’t think of a time and place, I shall hunt you down.’

      ‘Very well, very well. Oh, um, how about...as soon as you have finished with Papa and Benson? In the orangery.’

      He quirked one eyebrow. Really?

      She flushed, and lifted her chin.

      ‘I will be waiting for you there.’

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