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cordial, but inwardly she was annoyed. Miss Barnes had set herself up as the arbiter of good manners and was always finding fault with some young girl or other. What was all the more galling was that Miss Barnes was always right.
    Marion got up and had almost taken a step before she remembered to reach for her cane. She felt ridiculous having to use a cane for nothing more serious than a few stubbed toes. As long as she kept the weight off her foot, she felt hardly any pain, but the least pressure made her knee buckle, hence the cane.
    The first step made her wince. At this rate, it would take her a week to reach Emily. She took another small step then stopped when she saw Brand Hamilton threading his way through the couples on the floor to Emily and her partner. He nodded in Marion’s direction, showing her that he understood her predicament and he would take charge. He then led Emily from the floor, a laughing, flirtatious Emily, who was obviously enjoying all the masculine attention. Satisfied, Marion was just about to sit down again when she was joined by Fanny.
    â€œI see we both had the same idea,” said Fanny. “Thankfully, Brand is well aware, if Emily is not, that young, unmarried girls are thought to be fast if they dance the waltz before they are presented at Court. These silly rules are meant to try us.”
    What Cousin Fanny seemed to have forgotten was that Emily would not be presented at Court. They couldn’t afford it.
    Marion smiled at her cousin, knowing that she wasn’t finding fault so much as commiserating with the trials that parents and guardians had to endure. Fanny was really her father’s cousin, and her senior by a good many years. She and Reggie had two sons close to Emily’s age who were presently away at university, so they expected young people to test the rules their elders laid down for them. Her most endearing quality in Marion’s eyes, however, was that she possessed a deep well of affection for the three orphaned cousins she had not seen since Phoebe’s birth.
    â€œHandsome devil, isn’t he?” said Fanny. She was watching Brand Hamilton.
    Marion didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I suppose you could say that.”
    Fanny laughed. “Faint praise, indeed! I’m sure there are plenty of other ladies present who think as I do. If I were ten years younger, I’d give them a run for their money.”
    â€œIf you looked any younger,” replied Marion dryly, “you’d be giving girls as young as Emily a run for their money.”
    She was exaggerating, but there was a germ of truth in her words. Fanny’s figure was firm and supple, her skin glowed with health, and there wasn’t a trace of gray in her dark curls.
    â€œLook,” breathed out Fanny. “Elliot Coyne has just arrived.”
    Marion obediently looked. She saw a man in his mid-thirties, handsome without being too handsome, and very much at his ease.
    â€œWho,” said Marion, “ is Elliot Coyne?”
    â€œHe’s Brand’s rival for the nomination for the seat that has become vacant.”
    He was joined almost at once by a tall, dark-haired young woman in her early twenties, dressed in floating muslins. They made a handsome couple.
    Fanny went on, “And that is his betrothed, Lady Veronica, heiress to the Marquess of Hove. Elliot has done himself proud. Lady Veronica will make an excellent wife for a member of Parliament.”
    â€œReally?” Marion was truly interested. “How can you tell?”
    Fanny chuckled. “Because she has the right bloodlines, and the right connections. She will be a real asset to him.” She clicked her tongue. “Brand had better start looking to his laurels.”
    â€œIs it decided then? Is he running for the nomination?”
    â€œReggie is counting on it. It’s not that we don’t like Elliot, but he doesn’t have Brand’s drive. I must go and greet