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Smythford maintained his rigidly impassive countenance, acquired with years of practice, and bowed himself out of the room.

Closing the doors behind him with a snap, he then allowed himself a grin.

He wondered if Lady Harth would take up collecting statues to keep her servants busy.

Not that such items would last long in her house, of course.

Nonetheless, it would be like her, he allowed, as he walked sedately away from the drawing room.

“All right, dear,” Penelope said, taking a sip of tea. “Please tell me what has transpired, for I dare swear you have intrigued me.”

“Our niece, whom you strongly encouraged me to include in my invitation for a London Season, is not the poor relation we thought her to be! The baggage informs me her mother’s portion was always larger than dear Ralph’s was and that she is to inherit the entire estate of Sir Eugene Burke--you know, that horse breeder all the gentlemen claim is the best.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. A fortune, you say? Well, yes, I suppose if she truly is Sir Eugene Burke’s niece, that would be so. But is her possessing a fortune bad? I thought you considered money to be the greatest cachet to a successful London Season.”

“Yes, yes,” Alicia said testily, waving her arm wildly and scowling at her sister for interrupting. “But that is precisely the point. How can I now say to Society that we’ve all been wrong about Catherine? She isn’t a poor relation. What excuse can I make?”

“Why make an excuse?”

Alicia frowned at her severely. “Your levity simply will not do, sister.”

Penelope mumbled her apology while hiding a smile, then swiftly diverted Alicia’s attention by asking if she’d heard from her son Justin. She was marginally successful. Her sister relayed the gist of her son’s most recent letter, then returned to the subject of Catherine.

“When I consider the inquiries I have fielded when she began to ride that black horse, I positively cringe! I told simply everyone that she was horse-mad and implied she squandered all her available funds on her habit.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t know what else to say! The Marquis of Stefton’s peculiar friendship with her was inexplicable enough!”

“I’m sure you thought of something,” Penelope suggested drily.

“I merely suggested he was under some obligation to her uncle, though at that time I never dreamed her uncle was Sir Eugene Burke. Sir Eugene Burke! Just thinking of that makes me feel faint. How could the girl be so heartless as to keep us uninformed! I could have used the knowledge of that relationship to the advantage of them all. I have never been so aggravated!” With a loud clatter, she slammed the tea cup into its saucer, causing Penelope to wince and look anxiously at her delicate china.

While she hoped her cup had survived intact, Penelope looked at her sister. “I couldn’t agree with you more. Those poor dears, to think how all have suffered by that hidden information.”

Alicia looked piercingly at her sister for traces of sarcasm. Penelope’s guileless smile mollified her. “Precisely,” she said self-righteously. “Knowledge of a connection to Sir Eugene Burke would draw another entire coterie of gentlemen to my house.”

“Particularly all of London’s fortune hunters.”

Alicia set down her cup and saucer, spilling some of the contents across the little gilt table at her elbow. “I had not meant them,” she said repressively.

“I know, but that is a nightmare you’ve avoided thus far. For the twins, while possessing an easy competence, do not have fat enough purses to entice dedicated fortune hunters.”

“Yes, but they have enticed quite eligible young men, men they are in danger of losing to Catherine,” Alicia said icily while disdainfully watching her sister nibble a biscuit, scattering crumbs on her lap.

“If they are in danger of losing them, then they never had them in the first place,” Penelope said airily, absently brushing the crumbs away with her other hand. She leaned back against the cushions. “But who are we speaking of?” she asked before taking another nibble from her biscuit.

Alicia rose and began to pace the room. “The Earl of Soothcoor has displayed an interest in our Iris,” she said complacently.

“Soothcoor? Alicia, you have windmills in your head! Surely you don’t believe he’ll come up to scratch? The Marquis of Stefton would be an easier mark than Soothcoor.”

“Whenever the Earl comes to visit, he always speaks at length with Iris,” she said as she picked up and casually examined one of her sister’s little figurines.

“Or, at least he did until the Marquis quite abruptly left town. Now Catherine is commanding his attention in a fashion that is causing talk!” She abruptly put the little china piece down.

Penelope sucked in her breath as she watched the piece sway, uncertain as to whether it would stay up or tip over. Alicia, unconcerned and without a backward glance, resumed her pacing.

“Alicia, does the Earl come alone when he visits?” Penelope shrewdly asked while keeping a keen eye out for what else among her things might be in danger of her sister’s passing.

“No, he arrives with Stefton and Captain Chilberlain. Captain Chilberlain has been assiduously courting our Susannah. I am not convinced our brother would be happy with such a match,” she confided, returning to her chair.

“I have tried to discourage him, but neither he nor Susannah will listen to me, and that I also lay at Catherine’s door for she has been shamefully encouraging them. ”

“Perhaps now that the Marquis has returned, the Earl will not be monopolized by Catherine.”

Alicia reluctantly agreed. “But I tell you, the girl is an unprincipled hoyden. Stefton’s obligation to Sir Eugene Burke must be great indeed for all the attention he gives her.

I do not understand it!” she said, waving her hands in mystification and nearly sweeping the teacup and saucer off the side table.

“Neither do I, but I have my suspicions.” Penelope sipped her tea and turned to gaze out the tall narrow windows framed by pale green velvet drapes held back with gold tassels.

In the square below, she could see Lady Harth’s coachman walking the horses.

How typical of her to make them wait instead of sending them round to the stable in the mews until she was ready to leave.

She turned back toward Alicia, suddenly realizing what this visit was all about.

Her sister was asking for help in the only way she knew how.

“Do you wish me to come and have a talk with Catherine?” Lady Orrick asked as she moved Alicia’s cup and saucer onto the tray by her side.

A tinge of color stained Lady Harth’s cheeks.

“If you wish,” she said, attempting nonchalance.

“But I would wait until tomorrow. Evidently, Catherine took some fall in Hyde Park today. The Marquis brought her home. He even had the audacity to send for a doctor without consulting me first! Can you imagine?”

“No, but I’m beginning to,” Penelope said with a slight smile.

“The physician assures us her injuries are minor. He didn’t even bleed her, said she merely needs a good night’s sleep, which he insured with a dose of laudanum.”

“That’s reassuring. How did it happen?”

“I really can’t say. Something about a horse and Sir Philip Kirkson. Actually, if Sir Philip was involved, I’m surprised he did not bring Catherine home. He has been quite particular in his attentions to her, you know.”

“Kirkson! And you’ve encouraged him? Alicia, it’s said the man’s almost gone through his fortune and is hanging out for a rich wife.”

“I believe the rumors of his straitened circumstances to be all a hum. He has not the manner of a gazetted fortune hunter. And think, if believing Catherine to be poor, he could still be interested in her, then the depths of his emotions must be genuine. I am not particularly heartless, you know, Penelope. I may not read all the novels you do, but I can appreciate true romance when I see it. Now I must go,” she said, abruptly rising again and gathering her gloves and reticule.

“You will come tomorrow, won’t you? I am at a standstill over Catherine.

Sometimes I just wish she’d quietly go back north; she’s been an irritation since she arrived,” she declared.

With that parting shot, Lady Harth swept out the door with even more energy than when she had entered, knocking over the small gilt table as she went.

Penelope held a hand over her eyes and shook her head. The skein was tangled more than she’d imagined. She definitely had her work cut out for her in the week before the ball.