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“I’d settle for aSir,” Miss Clementine chimed in and was promptly elbowed in the side by her sister.

Daphne swallowed. “Well, once I’m settled, I’ll throw a proper ball, and you ladies can come along. I’ll invite as many eligible bachelors as I can, and you can see who you can meet.”

Miss Jenkins paused, whatever snide comment she was planning to make quickly forgotten. “Really? You’d do that for us?”

Daphne shrugged. “We women must marry, I suppose. You and I were friends, once, weren’t we?”

Miss Jenkins bit her lip and glanced away, twisting around to look at her sisters as if for support.

“We were friends, once,” she murmured. “But that was a long time ago. It hardly matters, though. Why don’t you come sit with us?”

“We’re expecting to be joined by my mother and sister,” Emily spoke up. “We shan’t stay long. We’ll find seats somewhere and sit quietly until it’s time to leave.”

Miss Jenkins continued to chew on her lip. “Very well.”

Daphne hid a smile. In her experience, the best way to dodge forthcoming nastiness from another person was to bekindto them. It worked almost every time.

“We should go,” she said, with just the right note of apology.

They stepped past the Jenkins girls and were ready to disappear into the crowd again when Miss Clementine spoke up.

“I’m glad you left him, Daphne! It was nothing more than he deserved.”

Daphne stopped dead, a cold feeling spreading through her.

Emily shot her an anxious look and tugged on her hand in vain. “Come on, Daff, we’re nearly there.”

Daphne pulled her hand free of her sister’s and turned back to face the Jenkins girls. “What do you mean?” she heard herself ask, her voice strained.

Miss Clementine looked a little nervous, and her sister elbowed her in the side, hard. They both looked at Miss Jenkins to respond.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Come, Daphne, don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I don’t understand what you are trying to say,” Daphne responded hotly. “Tell me, what do you mean? As far as I know, you three haven’t even met my husband, and you certainly don’t know him well enough to decide what hedeservesor not.”

Miss Jenkins eyed her contemptuously. “Oh, Daphne, you still are a little fool, aren’t you? They called him the Cursed Duke, you know.”

“Cursed? Oh, we believe in curses now, do we?”

Miss Jenkins rolled her eyes. “No. But in my experience, folks generally bring their own luck upon themselves.”

Daphne’s fingers clenched into fists. “Do explain.”

Miss Minerva stepped forward, tugging on her sister’s sleeve. “Let’s go, Ermie,” she whispered. “She’s half-mad, look at her.”

Miss Jenkins yanked her arm away, taking a step towards Daphne. “If you must know,” she said smoothly, “and I cannot believe that you donotknow, the Duke of Thornbridge is rather famously low on luck. His mother died, his wife died, and his second wife has just abandoned him. And, if my sources are correct—which they are—his stepmother is leaving him, too. It’s plain as day that the man is cursed one way or the other.”

Daphne gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Well, I can tell youthatis not true. Lady Clarissa would never abandon him, and you may tell that to yoursources.”

She knew that her voice was pitching higher and higher, but she simply did not care.

Emily tugged at her sleeve, whispering urgently, “Daphne, stop it! People are looking. Let’s go, shall we? Leave Miss Jenkins alone.”

Daphne shook off her sister’s arm and took a step closer, pointing a finger to Miss Jenkins’ face. “You listen to me, you wet rag of a woman. My husband is not cursed. I can assure you that he is not cursed. You, however, might well end up cursed. How would you like that? I’ll curse you myself!”

There was a brief silence, which Daphne assumed was due to her raised voice.

A fraction of a second too late, she realized that all had gone quiet around her because the Jenkins girls were staring over her head at someone behind her.