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M ary hugged Phoebe as she and Kit entered the drawing room. “It is wonderful to be back in Town.”

“We’re so happy to see you,” Phoebe said. “It’s been too long since you were able to join us.”

Marcus brought Mary and Kit sherry. “You look well. I take it married life is agreeing with you.”

Kit grinned. He did that a lot lately. “It is.” He slid his arm around Mary’s increasing waist. “We shall have a happy event in February.”

Huntley entered with Caro, each of them carrying a small bundle. Mary peeked at both babies before carefully embracing her friend. “They are lovely! Have you decided on names yet?”

Huntley grinned. “We have.”

“Though it was a bit of a battle with our fathers,” Caro added. She motioned to the baby her husband held. “May I present Giles Andrew Douglas Ingram, Viscount Rushdon, and this”—she kissed the head of the baby she held—“is Lady Emily Charlotte Meraude Noel Gre-vill.”

Grace Worthington slowly made her way to them. “What beautiful babies!” She rubbed her hand over her burgeoning stomach, and addressed Mary. “Congratulations to you as well!”

“Thank you.” Mary smiled.

“Where are Eugénie and Will?” Grace asked.

“I almost forgot to tell you,” Phoebe said. “I received a letter yesterday. She gave birth to a boy. They didn’t have the name yet.”

“Have you heard from Lord Simon and his lady?” Mary asked Caro .

“We have. They are doing well. It looks as if they will buy a house in Town and another property near Bristol. Lady Simon asks that her thanks for Athey be passed along. She is doing a wonderful job as Finella’s lady’s maid.”

Marcus replaced the sherry with champagne. “A toast to Huntley, Caro, Will, Eugénie and the new babies.”

The Rutherfords entered the room, and Anna hugged everyone. “I take it you’ve heard about the Wivenlys’ new son?”

Huntley made his way over to Kit. “This is it. You won the wager.”

He was still for a few moments. “The one we made at Beaumont’s wedding, you mean?”

“That was the only one I know of. You were the last one married.”

“No, Rupert Stanstead was there and he is still not wed.”

Huntley pulled a face. “He is too young to be thinking of filling his nursery.”

“I believe you might be wrong about that.” Kit grinned. “Care to wager?”

“What wager?” Robert Beaumont joined them. “Not on my daughter.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Is that all you think about?”

“No, I think about Serena.” Taking a glass of champagne from Marcus, Robert smiled. “When are you and Phoebe going to have another? I am here to attest, daughters are the most engaging children known to man.”

Marcus glanced at his wife. “It’s too early to say, but we hope for another one next year.”

“The wager,” Huntley said, bringing them back to the topic. “I say Rupert will not wed for another few years.”

Kit grinned. “And I say he’ll be wed before year’s end.”

“My cousin Rupert?” Robert asked.

“How many other Ruperts do you know?” Huntley said in a dry tone.

“I say he finds a young lady and marries,” Marcus added.

Robert’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “I think I’ll pass. Rupert will do what he wishes and might surprise everyone.”