'Happily-ever-after endings are the best possible endings,' Freyja said, 'especially when there has been an unnecessary separation of years and then a sudden, unexpected reunion.' She nodded at a few more acquaintances.
'Ah, the separation,' the marchioness said. 'It was necessary. Constance was barely eighteen years old, far too young for matrimony, according to her papa, who had his own ideas on such matters. Yet dear Joshua's ardor was such that being so near to her every day was an unbearable torment to him. And so he went off to seek his fortune and broke all our hearts.'
'How collectively painful, ma'am,' Freyja murmured.
'Devastatingly so.' The lady darted her a suspicious glance. 'But not Constance's heart-she knew he would remain true. She knew he would not stay away forever. And now her patience and Joshua's sense of honor are to be rewarded, Lady Freyja. He will marry my daughter and Penhallow will remain my home and the home of my other daughters for as long as they remain unwed.'
'I am honored indeed,' Freyja said, 'that you would confide such an intimate secret to me.'
'I have done it,' the marchioness said with a look of sad candor, 'because I was given the distinct impression yesterday, Lady Freyja, that perhaps you were in danger of losing your heart to Hallmere. And the boy does have a naughty tendency to flirt with the ladies. He is so very handsome, you see, and cannot help but notice the admiring glances he attracts wherever he goes. But his heart is true, and it was given long ago.'
Freyja discovered that she was enjoying herself immensely.
'Now I understand why you drew me apart with that clever ruse about the fashionable cut of my dress,' she said. 'I am eternally grateful to you, ma'am. If I am ever inclined to experience a weakness of the knees at the sight of the Marquess of Hallmere's handsome person or to suffer heart palpitations at one of his charming smiles bestowed upon me, I shall remember that his heart is given elsewhere and has been for five long years while his beloved has been growing up-from the tender age of eighteen to the altogether more eligible age of three and twenty. I shall remember that you brought her here to him when he was surely pining with the anxious fear that perhaps she was still too young to be snatched from her mother's bosom. It is a marvelously romantic story, in which your own part has been one of selfless maternal devotion. How could I ever even think about intruding upon such an affecting romance by conceiving a tendre for the gentleman myself?'
The marchioness's arm had stiffened beneath Freyja's. Her voice was a little more steely when she spoke again.
'I perceive that you mock me, Lady Freyja,' she said.
'Do you?' Freyja asked. 'How very peculiar!'
'I merely felt it my duty to offer you a friendly warning,' the marchioness said. 'I would not wish to see your heart broken.'
'Your kindness is overwhelming,' Freyja said.
'I daresay that by a certain age,' Lady Hallmere said, 'one's heart becomes even more vulnerable to disappointment. Let us say five and twenty? Or six and twenty? But I would advise you not to despair, Lady Freyja. I am confident that the Earl of Willett is quite prepared to have you.'
Freyja was torn between outrage and unholy amusement. The latter won. One could hardly feel true outrage against such an unworthy foe.
'Oh, do you believe so, ma'am?' she asked. 'What a balm to my worst anxieties that would be. At my age I must be immensely grateful to anyone-even the chimney sweep-who is still willing to relieve me of my single state. Now, ma'am, I believe we have exhausted the purpose of this conversation.' She smiled at Lady Potford and Lady Holt-Barron, who were standing together at the water table. 'I believe we understand each other perfectly well.'
'I do not believe you understand me at all, Lady Freyja,' the marchioness said sharply. 'I will not have you come between Hallmere and his intended bride. I am wondering what the Duke of Bewcastle would think of his sister's leaving the propriety of a riding party of eight ladies and gentlemen in order to gallop off alone with one gentlemen in scandalously improper fashion.'
Ah, this was better. The lady's claws were being bared at last.
'I imagine, ma'am,' Freyja said, 'that he would say nothing. He would undoubtedly, though, make deadly use of his quizzing glass, though whether upon me or upon the divulger of such foolish information I leave you to imagine. You may address any letter to his grace to Lindsey Hall in Hampshire.'
'I wonder if Hallmere has thought to mention to you,' the marchioness said, her sweet whine restored as she leaned more heavily on Freyja's arm again, 'that he has the most adorable little bastard son living with his mother in the village close to Penhallow. She was the girls' governess until the unfortunate incident forced my husband to dismiss her. They appear not to be suffering. I understand that Hallmere still supports them.'
This was somewhat surprising and displeasing, Freyja had to admit privately to herself-if it was true. She knew very well that her brothers were all lusty men-even Wulfric, who had kept the same mistress in London for years. But she knew too, though no one had ever come right out and said so in her hearing, that one of the cardinal rules by which they had grown up was that they were to make no amorous advances to anyone employed in any of the ducal homes or on their estates or in the villages attached to them. And not to any woman who was unwilling, either. There was a strong tradition too among the Bedwyns that once they married they remained true to their spouses for the rest of their lives.
'Well, that has sealed the matter,' Freyja said briskly. 'I renounce all claim on the marquess, ma'am, broken heart notwithstanding. I simply could not countenance any part of his fortune being frittered away on keeping a bastard and his mother from starvation. Lady Constance must be a saint if she is prepared to overlook such a useless expenditure.'
'I do not consider your tone of levity ladylike, Lady Freyja,' the marchioness complained. 'I would have expected a lady of your years and unfortunate looks to be especially careful to cultivate a gentle demeanor.'
The claws had raked a bloody path down her person, Freyja noted with interest, and left her for dead. Gone, for the moment, was all pretense of delicate health and sweet disposition.
'I am humbled,' Freyja said, 'and now understand why at the age of five and twenty I am still unwed. I daresay it is my nose. My mother really ought to have thought twice before bearing my father a daughter. The nose looks distinguished enough on my brothers. On me it is grotesque and has blighted all my matrimonial hopes. I shall
