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scar or the reason for the loss of his hopes.
    ‘Yes, she is rather lovely,’ he said, bringing his gaze back to the vision in white. ‘I have no idea who she is, but I know one of her com pan ions.’
    ‘You couldn’t introduce me, could you?’ Toby asked and arched his right eyebrow.
    ‘Fancy your chances, do you?’ Harry asked and chuckled as he saw the younger man colour. ‘I do not think your mama would be happy to see you ensnared too soon, Toby.’
    ‘Oh, lord, no,’ Toby said and made a grimace of horror. ‘I shall not marry until I am at least as old as you and ready to set up a nursery. Far too boring to be married before you’ve been on the town a few years.’
    ‘You young cub!’ Harry said and made a face at him. ‘What makes you think I am ready to set up my nursery?’
    ‘Mama said it was time you did,’ Toby replied innocently but with a wicked air. ‘She says if you leave it much longer, it may be too late.’
    ‘Good grief. I am three and thirty,’ Harry said and grimaced. ‘I do not think the case des per ate yet. Lady Sinclair would have had me married ten years ago if she could, but I had no mind for it. I believe she is more des per ate to see me wed than Mama!’
    He smiled oddly, for he knew his sister Anne had his best interests at heart. They had always been close and she under stood him, perhaps even better than he did himself. Besides, of late he had begun to feel it was time he settled down. Indeed, these days he was as happy with his dogs and horses at home in the country as cutting a dash in town. However, he had not met a lady he wished to marry. Most of the young ladies brought to London by their eager mothers were too naïve and often too timid for his taste. He knew that he would be bored by their company within months and that would be unfair to his wife. If he were to marry, it would be to a lady of spirit, someone who could retain his interest. He was not sure that romantic love existed, but it was certainly possible to admire and care for another. His mother had undoubtedly loved his father, and would never consider marrying again, though she might if she had wished. Harry felt that if he were to marry he would like to be loved in that way, though he knew that most of his friends had married for reasons other than love. Had he been satisfied with a marriage of convenience he might had wed a long time ago, but he was looking for some thing more.
    His eyes narrowed as he noticed that a steady queue of gentlemen were making their way to the side of the beautiful young lady in white. He watched her for a while. Something about her seemed familiar, but he could not think what. He was certain he had never met her before—and yet there was some thing. She had pretty manners and a nice smile, he observed, before turning away to join some friends in the card room. It was very unlikely that the newcomer would be any different to the other young ladies in the room.
    Harry rather thought that when he married, he would probably choose an older lady, perhaps a widow. An intelligent lady, who would fill his house with good company and give him an heir. It was all very well to hope for some thing more, but in the end he might be forced to marry for the sake of the family.

    ‘No, no, please, gentlemen, you must not fight over me!’ Susannah begged, her eyes bright with laughter as the two young bucks argued fiercely over the last dance on her card. ‘If you cannot agree which of you should have the dance, I shall promise it to neither of you.’
    ‘But it should be mine,’ Tom Roberts asserted. ‘I am sure I asked first.’
    ‘I am the elder by birth and there fore I should take precedence over this rascal,’ his twin Edgar replied, glaring at his brother. ‘You must dance with me, Miss Hampton.’
    ‘I believe this dance is promised to me, gentlemen.’ The new comer held out his hand with a touch of command that prompted Susannah to obey, even though she had not yet