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case, everyone, even properly ignorant maidens, knew that Eleanor Talbot was clever and beautiful, a respectable widow who kept a salon frequented by any Whig with aspirations to power. Thanks to Jack and Donald, Anna also knew that Mrs. Talbot preferred younger men in her bed, though she was very discreet about it, and that James had been her companion of choice for almost three years, from the time he had first arrived in London and taken up his seat in the Lords just after his twenty-first birthday.
    But this year Mrs. Talbot had encouraged the attentions of an older man, the widowed Baron Langley, and they had quietly married at the end of May. Anna suspected James’s absence from this year’s round of balls, routs and musicales stemmed from his lover’s desertion. She considered asking him about Mrs. Talbot but knew he would not tell her anything. He would consider the inquiry impertinent and improper—which it was. The cousins might have treated her as one of themselves, but to James she was still a child, a baby sister to be eternally protected and sheltered.
    But Anna was no longer a child. She was ready to take life seriously and be taken seriously herself, and she was ready to leave girlhood behind and live a woman’s life. It rather dismayed her that she had not managed to fall in love during her two Seasons. Though she had been careful to avoid any compromising situation or occasion for seduction, she knew she was not meant for a single life. With such an outspoken family, she had a better idea of what went on between husband and wife than most well-bred girls, and she was curious, even eager, to try it for herself. She wanted to remain respectable, but she also wanted to lie with a man and bear him children. Therefore, it was high time she found a suitable husband.
    Of course she hadn’t fallen in love with Lieutenant Arrington’s picture. The very idea was absurd. But the more she thought about it, the more she liked James’s suggestion that she marry an officer. At least she could meet this one as herself, the self she wanted to be from now on, without the burden of her reputation as the giddy and fast Miss Wright-Gordon.
    When she sailed down the stairs to Orchard Park’s marbled entry hall, James and Aunt Lilias were already waiting, but not Uncle Robert. Strange. He was usually dressed long before his wife.
    “You look lovely tonight, my child,” Aunt Lilias said. “Doesn’t your sister look beautiful, James?”
    “Of course she does.” James bent to kiss her hand with half-mocking gallantry.
    “Thank you,” Anna said. “But where is my uncle?”
    Aunt Lilias raised an eyebrow. “He told me he was preparing a special honor for Almont Castle and Lady Marpool. I have no idea what he’s plotting.”
    They were not left in suspense for long. Uncle Robert appeared at the top of the grand staircase and struck a heroic pose. He looked just like his portrait in the great hall in Dunmalcolm Castle—kilt and all. Slowly, and with just a hint of a swagger, he descended the stairs.
    Anna gaped at him. He occasionally donned Highland dress for great occasions, saying that he felt an obligation to keep alive the customs the Sassenachs had tried to eradicate after Culloden. But he never dressed so for ordinary dinners in England, and Anna could not fathom why he had chosen to exchange the sophisticated British earl for the proud Scottish chieftain so far from home.
    By her side, James dissolved into laughter. Arriving at the bottom of the stairs, Uncle Robert fixed him with a stern look. “Do not mock your heritage, laddie. You come of a long line of brave men who wore the kilt, and do not forget it.”
    “I would never mock them or you, uncle,” James said, recovering his gravity. “Only…why tonight?”
    Uncle Robert’s blue eyes twinkled. “You do know that Lady Marpool lives in anticipation of an invasion of wild Scotsmen, do you not? I’d hate to disappoint her.”
    Aunt Lilias sighed the