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much.”
    “You know more than I do.”
    Her cousin took a deep breath. “Tolly is twenty-eight, three years younger than Stephen. He’s been an officer serving in Europe and then in India for ten years. Just over eight months ago he and his company were escorting a local zamindar or chieftain or whatever they call him, to Delhi. They’d been sent to accompany the fellow because of a rash of robberies by highwaymen. There was some sort of altercation, and Tolly was the only survivor. He arrived back in London just a month ago, and that’s only because the weather was favorable on his return voyage.”
    “Violet said his nasty temperament is new.”
    “I never met him until yesterday, so I couldn’t speak to that. I will say that both Stephen and Violet have always seemed very fond of him.” Amelia waved at Miss Traynor across the street. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
    Not a bit . “Yes. Thank you. That wasn’t so painful, was it?”
    “No, it wasn’t. But I thought you would want to know his favorite music, or which game bird he prefers, and whether he enjoys reading.”
    Theresa chuckled. “I told you that I wasn’t smitten with him. I’m only curious because of his lack of manners.”
    That wasn’t quite true. It wasn’t only his lack of manners that intrigued her. And Amelia’s tidbits had only served to whet her appetite for more information about Colonel Bartholomew James. She had no idea why, because he had been brusque and rude and antagonistic. In the past, she’d actively avoided anyonewith a questionable reputation, not wanting to be connected with such nonsense even by association. And yet she’d been thinking about Tolly James—and when she would next see him—all morning. Perhaps it was her own need to improve. One’s manners could never be too perfect.
    “Are you going to tromp down the street all the way to the Thames, or should we shop?” Amelia asked.
    Shaking herself, Theresa stopped. They were three shops past Gilroy’s haberdashery. “Oh, dear. My apologies. I suppose I was thinking about what I should wear to the Haramund party this evening.”
    “Oh, you should wear that new green and gray silk from Madame Costanza’s dress shop. You’ll receive at least half a dozen proposals because of that dress alone.”
    “It’s not the quantity of marriage offers that count, Leelee. It’s the quality.” With a laugh and a quick look about to be certain no one else had heard her comment, she towed her cousin back to Gilroy’s. “You know that I’m not waiting for a proposal, my dear. I’m waiting for the proposal.”
    “Then we can only hope that Hercules or Achilles or perhaps Apollo are still about and seeking a wife.”
    “They’re all too violent and bloodthirsty.” Theresa sent her cousin an amused scowl. “And even if they weren’t they are all a bit old for me.”
    Finally Amelia joined her in laughing. “You are utterly incorrigible.”
    “I’m completely corrigible, except when I’m with you. And I apolo—”
    “Don’t you dare.” Her cousin’s smile faded, and Amelia put an arm across her shoulders. “It’s not poor behavior when you jest with your family and friends. And I’m glad and honored that you still jest with me. Saying something unexpected doesn’t always make it the wrong thing to say.”
    Well, Amelia was in error about that. After the way Theresa had lost her temper last night, she needed to be especially careful not to do so again. No matter that the thought of another argument with Bartholomew James made her heart beat faster or not.
     
    Bartholomew handed his invitation over to the Haramund House footman. The man didn’t bat an eye, so apparently wherever Sommerset had acquired it, the paper was legitimate.
    “If you’ll wait here, Colonel,” the servant said, “the butler shall announce you in turn.”
    Glancing at the short line of notables awaiting the fanfare of an announcement before they entered the ballroom,