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“Lord Marley, the most eligible bachelor in London? The one who can take his pick of any girl in Britain? How provincial you are.”
    Amelia’s eyes flashed. “Mama, you assume too much. We were merely discussing the relative merits of Charlotte’s prospects.” She tossed her fork on the table, pushed back her chair, and left without excusing herself.
    Relations between Amelia and Elizabeth had been steadily declining, and Elizabeth’s insistence that Charlotte marry Horace was not helping matters. Whenever possible, Charlotte avoided being with the two of them.
    Elizabeth motioned for the footman to fill her plate. “Instead of focusing on the faults of your suitors, you should consider your own behavior, Charlotte. You must desist in rearranging flowers in public like a common housemaid.”
    Her statement hit like a kick to Charlotte’s stomach. She prided herself on the distinctive arrangements she made from the flowers they grew at Burdett, though Elizabeth evidently did not wish for it to be known who created them.
    Her pride wounded from Elizabeth’s stinging remark, Charlotte excused herself. Richard’s town house was neither the largest nor the most grand in the neighborhood, but it was favorably situated near Hyde Park, where she could find fresh air to clear her head. Charlotte invited Nanny Filcher and her nephews to join her in exploring the park, which would likely be largely uninhabited this early in the day.
    “Charlotte,” Elizabeth called as they prepared to leave, “do return promptly. Horace is to call on you this afternoon.”
    Just what she needed to brighten her day. Perhaps she would find a way to be ill if she could not be late.
    As they walked to the park, five-year-old Michael tugged on her skirts. “Amelia says you’re going to be married and move away, but I don’t believe her. You’re always going to live with us, aren’t you?”
    Charlotte stopped and knelt next to him. “I will have to move to a new house someday, darling. I can’t live with you forever.”
    A tear slid down his cheek. “You’ve already been living with us forever. Why can’t you stay?”
    “When a girl marries, she has to move to her husband’s house. But I promise I’ll visit you as often as I can.” She wiped away his tears.
    He took a deep, shuddering breath. “All right, I guess. But I’d rather you just live with us forever.”
    Charlotte smiled. She just might, since no one but Horace had shown any interest in marrying her yet.
    After more than an hour of brisk walking and a rousing game of tag, the boys settled down to investigate a fountain while their grateful nanny rested on a nearby bench. Charlotte chose to continue walking. Of all the gentlemen she’d met since her arrival in London, there was only one she imagined herself wanting to know more intimately. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to run her fingers through his thick, dark hair. Both Charlotte’s thoughts and her momentum were abruptly halted when she crashed into a horse blocking the path in front of her.
    “I say, Miss Lightwood, are you all right?” Lord Marley said. It was as if her imagination had conjured him to appear in this very spot.
    The timbre of his voice set her heartbeat into a staccato rhythm. Despite the protection afforded by the rim of her bonnet, the sun shone so brightly she had to shade her eyes as she gazed up at him. “Yes, I am fine, thank you, Lord Marley.”
    The horse shook its head, and he loosened the reins. “Then why did you walk into my horse?”
    She put her hands on her hips. “Why did you position him in the middle of the path?”
    He returned the wave of a gentleman trotting past along Rotten Row. “I’d thought to greet you, but had I known you meant to attack my horse, I would have moved on.”
    “I did no such thing.” Charlotte stroked Lord Marley’s very fine bay gelding along his neck and shoulder. “He’s beautiful.”
    Lord Marley momentarily appeared as