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party.”
    Kendra disliked the way he spoke of the whole ordeal like she was something to be rid of rather than considering that this would be the most important decision of her life. “And who would that be?”
    “His name is Lord Randall Barrymore. He owns a grand estate in Wilfortshire and a respectable fortune. Furthermore, he is coming to dinner tonight. If all goes as expected, we can sign the betrothal agreement and have you married before the summer is out.”
    “Before the summer is out?” Kendra rose to her feet. “How will I decide in such a short space as that? I’ll need time to meet these, these suitors and if, and only if, one of them is acceptable to me, then I will need further time to get to know him. I’ll not marry a total stranger.”
    Her uncle’s handsome face turned red as he set his teeth. It was not a pleasant look on him.
    “Your father raised you to be entirely too independent, my dear,” he grumbled in a low voice. “At any rate, thus far there hasn’t been a very great response to my hints, actually next to none, so you will have to make the most of the situation and make yourself as pleasing as possible to those who have responded. Lord Barrymore is a fine catch and I assure you that you will have plenty of time to get to know the old man once you’re married.” He must have realized his slip of the tongue as he reddened further.
    “Old man!” Kendra cried. “Surely you could find someone closer to my age.”
    “As I said before, the pickings have been slim.” Her uncle’s tone rapped sharp and impatient. “Wear a nice gown, not the black mourning frocks you’ve been moping about in and be on your best behavior for dinner.”
    Kendra gasped. “But I am in mourning. It would be scandalous to wear anything but black before a year is out.”
    Andrew leaned in and impaled her with his flashing blue eyes. “We do not have the time nor the resources to wait until a year is out. You will do as you are told, Kendra!”
    Kendra’s eyes widened at the rebuke. She had never been spoken to in such a harsh manner and felt a rush of shame as tears threatened her eyes.
    Her uncle gentled his tone. “Kendra, please. I’m only doing what I think best. We do not have the most ideal circumstances and will have to make the most of it.”
    Kendra stood and curtsied but her soft answer parried like a sword. “Yes, but don’t you ever forget who brought about those circumstances.” The thrust rang true as Andrew’s face blanched white. Kendra turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.
    Of all the low down, horrid, mean spirited . . . . ugh! Kendra muttered to herself the entire way to her room. There weren’t words in her vocabulary to heap onto her uncle’s character. How had he turned out to be such an insensitive clod who hadn’t a care for her feelings? Her father would have never allowed the situation to come to this. The gall, asking total strangers to come and look her over as if she were some prized mare. She had no doubts about what tonight was really about, however her uncle tried to disguise it. Oh! It was intolerable. Unbearable. She had to think of something.
    She rushed into her room and rang for Tess, the kitchen maid who was good at arranging hair. Eyes narrowed, she sat down at her dressing table and scowled at her reflection. She had a couple of hours to come up with a plan. She wanted to hide until the old coot gave up and went home, but that wasn’t really an option. Her uncle would only drag him back and she would have to face him sooner or later. She needed something more subtle.
    Rummaging through her wardrobe she chose her plainest gown. All of her everyday dresses were getting a well-worn look to them, but she still had some formal gowns remade from her mother’s clothes and she dared not be so blatant as to appear in anything else. She remembered how her father had insisted she keep her mother’s things when over a year ago they sold