'You are, as you have just observed,' he said, 'four years past your majority. Five and twenty is an uncomfortable age for a single lady. Have you been made suddenly aware of that this year?'
'No!' she exclaimed hotly. Though there might be a grain of truth in what he had said, she supposed. She had not attended Aidan's wedding-no one in the family had even known about it until weeks after the event. But she had been at Rannulf and Judith's just before coming to Bath, and she had felt some envy. She had even considered putting an end to her single state by grabbing some eligible gentleman in Bath-the Earl of Willett, for example.
Wulfric appeared to hesitate before speaking again. He stopped to take a drink from his coffee cup.
'It did not escape my notice,' he said, 'that the announcement of your betrothal was made two days after Viscountess Ravensberg was delivered of her son. One day, I believe, after Morgan wrote and informed you of the event. Probably the very day you received her letter.'
'If you have a point to make, Wulf,' she said when he paused, 'there is no need to take all day about it. You think that because Kit has a child I am prostrate with grief and self-pity? You think I hurled myself into the arms of the first available man after I heard the news? You think it was I who proposed marriage to the marquess during that waltz and begged him to have our betrothal announced? All to cover for a broken heart? I do not care that much for Kit Butler.' She snapped her finger and thumb over the table between them with a satisfying click. 'Or for his viscountess. Or for their son.' She tore off a piece of toast and popped it vengefully into her mouth.
'This is, then,' Wulfric asked after a brief silence, 'a love match, Freyja?'
How could she deny it now after that impassioned outburst, from which she was still breathless?
'I adore him,' she said. 'And he adores me.'
'Ah,' he said, gazing at her with his inscrutable eyes. 'Quite so.'
The tension was almost too much to bear. What a bouncer she had just told. And if he believed it, she was going to look that much more pathetic in a few days' time after she had been abandoned. She leaned across the table, her eyes sparkling with merriment.
'Have you heard about our first encounter in Bath?' she asked him. 'Or rather about our first two encounters. They are inextricably linked. If you have not heard yet, someone is bound to bring up the matter this evening. I had best tell you myself now.'
He looked slightly pained. 'I have a feeling,' he said, 'that it might be something I would rather not know about.'
She laughed and told him about the misunderstanding in Sydney Gardens, about her punching the Marquess of Hallmere in the nose and his neglecting to insist upon telling her what had really happened.
'Of course,' she added, 'I did not know his identity at that time or he mine. He refused to believe that I was a duke's sister because I had no chaperone with me.'
'It is very clear,' Wulfric observed dryly, 'that you were behaving perfectly normally.'
She proceeded to describe the scene in the Pump Room the following morning, complete with all the gruesome details.
'You are to be commended,' Wulfric said when she had finished. He sounded rather weary. 'You must have provided Bath society with enough conversation to last a week, Freyja. And then, just when it was dying down, you refreshed it with that unexpected announcement at the assembly. Now that you have described the commencement of your acquaintance with Hallmere, of course, it makes perfect sense to me that the two of you would have fallen head over ears for each other and you would have decided upon a life's commitment to each other in the course of a single waltz.' He sighed and set down his knife and fork.
Freyja wondered what he would have to say if she were to describe her first encounter with the marquess outside of Bath.
'Are you going to be happy in this marriage, then?' he asked.
Sometimes-just occasionally-one had a sudden glimpse into the humanity of Wulfric. Not often. If he had feelings, he almost never displayed them. If he had dreams or secrets or personal concerns, he never shared them. She often wondered about his relationship with his mistress-if it was strictly business, serving only the obvious function. But sometimes, for the merest moment, there came the shocking realization that perhaps he cared for them all, not just as brothers and sisters who were his responsibility, but as persons whom he might love.
She had one of those stabbing glimpses when he asked his question. And she did something horribly ignominious. Her eyes filled with tears.
'Yes, I am,' she said fervently, leaning a little toward him across the table. 'Yes, we are.'
And then she swallowed and heard a nasty gurgling sound in her throat as she remembered that what she had just said with such uncharacteristic emotion was all a lie.
She almost wished that she really were betrothed to the Marquess of Hallmere and that she really were in love with him and looking forward to a lifetime of happiness with him. She wanted to be able to give her happiness as a gift to Wulf, who, she suddenly thought, was quite probably a lonely man.
'I suppose, then,' Wulfric said, setting his napkin on the table and leaning back in his chair, 'I had better give my blessing to this match, Freyja, for what my blessing is worth. It is rather akin, I daresay, to shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.'
There was still food left on Freyja's plate, but she had lost interest in it. She pushed the plate away. She felt wretched. She was impulsive and headstrong and frequently indiscreet, but she was unaccustomed to lying to Wulf or anyone else in her family. She was so far into this deception business, however, that there was nothing else to do now but go forward with it until it ended. Fortunately that would be soon.
'Hallmere had better come back to Lindsey Hall with us unless he has some pressing obligation elsewhere,' Wulfric said. 'We will need to present him in the neighborhood and celebrate your betrothal properly. And we will need to make plans for your wedding.'
Freyja suddenly wished she had not eaten at all.
CHAPTER X
Lady Potford's home on Great Pulteney Street was filled with guests on the evening of the betrothal party. She had opened the drawing room, her private sitting room, a salon, and the dining room in order to accommodate all her guests. Each room blazed with the lights of many candles. The long
