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agreed to your
outrageous terms, Magnus! Oh, I cannot believe it. Who is she? No —do not tell
me— let me guess. Lady Helen… no, she is positively addicted to Almack’s. And
it could not possibly be Miss Blakeney —no one so a la mode would agree to be buried
in the country for ten years. Oh, I give up Magnus, who is she?”
    There was a long
pause. Tallie waited with hated breath.
    Truly, she could
imagine no young lady agreeing to such inhuman terms.
    It was a shame his
mother had behaved so shockingly, but not all women were like his mother and
Laetitia, and why should an innocent wife be punished for the things they had
done?
    Ten years in the
country indeed! And would Lord d’Arenville confine himself similarly to the
restrictions of country life? Tallie almost snorted out loud. Of course he
would not! It was only his poor wife who would be shut away from society,
breeding his heirs like a good little brood mare.
    “Well, Magnus, don’t
keep me waiting all day,” said Laetitia impatiently. “Which bride have you
chosen?”
    Tallie leaned against
the door-handle, eager to hear his answer.
    “I have decided to
wed—” Suddenly the catch gave, and Tallie tumbled out into the night, missing
his reply. Fearful that her eavesdropping would be discovered, she pushed the
door shut and slipped away. A little irritated to be denied the juicy morsel of
gossip, she hurried towards the kitchen.
    Which unfortunate
young lady had Lord d’Arenville chosen for his bride?
    She would find out
soon enough, she supposed. Whoever it was, Tallie did not envy her. However, it
was nothing to do with her, except that his choice would signal the end of the
house party. All the unpleasant guests would return to London , the children would be released from their
unnatural curfew and she would return to the peaceful life she had led before.
Tallie almost skipped with joy at the prospect.
     
    *         *         *
    When Tallie came down
to breakfast the next morning she was surprised to find many of her cousin’s
guests already arisen. She paused on the threshold, feeling dowdy and
unwelcome. Still, she decided, this was her home, and she had every right to
her breakfast. Chin held high, she entered the breakfast room.
    A sudden hush fell.
Tallie ignored it. No doubt they were preparing to make sport of her yet again
—the dress she wore was even shabbier than yesterday’s. She went to the
sideboard and inspected the selection of breakfast dishes, uncomfortably aware
of hostile eyes boring into her back. After a moment, the buzz of conversation resumed.
From time to time a low voiced comment reached her ears as she slowly filled
her plate.
    “…done rather well
for herself…”
    “…but, my dear, one
wonders what precisely she did to ensure…”
    They were talking of
Lord d’Arenville’s bride, Tallie thought. He must have announced his betrothal
at the ball. That would explain why so many had come down to breakfast. No
doubt those who had not been chosen wished to make an early start on the
journey back to Town.
    “And, of course, poor
Tish is utterly furious.”
    “Naturally, my dear.
Would not you be? After all she’s done for her, and now this! The very
ingratitude.”
    “Trapped,
undoubtedly.”
    “Oh, undoubtedly!”
    Tallie wondered which
of the young ladies Lord d’Arenville had chosen.
    It had to be either
Miss Blakeney or Lady Helen Beresford —they were the only two young ladies not
at breakfast. That explained why she could sense such an atmosphere of
hostility in the room —failed candidates seething with frustration and anger.
Tallie tried to close her ears to the vehement mutterings. It would be a relief
when Lord d’Arenville, Laetitia and all their horrid friends had gone back to London .
    “Thrusting little
baggage. A man of honour… no choice.”
    “And that dress last
evening —positively indecent!”
    “No other word for
it.”
    Tallie began to eat
her breakfast, though her