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H e fixed a desperately pleading gaze on Lucinda.

She smiled and began to clap, and others, laughing, joined in.

“Bravo, Mr. Pearce!” she said. “Doggerel or not, you have described precisely what we intellectual ladies long for. We cannot help but be pleased that although you appreciate our feminine attributes, you love our minds even more.”

“Hear, hear!” Restive said, walking away from his two lovelorn companions. “Who wants a lady with more hair—and bosom—than wit?”

“Precisely!” Lady Alice said with scarcely a quiver. “Is there more?”

“No more doggerel, but soon I shall pen a true ode,” Mr. Pearce said, his relieved grin almost maniacal. “When one falls in love at first sight, one’s perception changes drastically. Now the heavens have opened and inspiration has descended upon me.”

Mrs. Haraldson raised her glass of wine.

“A toast to inspiration! We look forward to your next poem and fervently hope it is worthy of both you and your true love.” She motioned to the footman to serve the refreshments, and Lucinda, fearing a tête-à-tête with Mr. Pearce, hurried to sit with the now gloomy Alfreda.

Miss Cox came over as well and introduced her to Miss Collins, the blonde girl who’d been sitting next to Restive. They chatted amiably for a while, partaking of tiny watercress sandwiches and delicious drop cakes.

Miss Collins seemed far less upset than Alfreda.

“Thank you for distracting Mr. Pearce from me,” she said.

“He’s been mooning after me lately, so I may be the one with the golden tresses.

I was rather taken with him until he invited me to accompany him to one of Lady Tollister’s evening parties.

” She wrinkled her nose as if at a noxious odor.

“Lady Tollister? I don’t believe I’ve heard of her,” Lucinda said.

“She holds parties where there is intelligent discussion, and cards too, but the people who attend are not at all respectable, or if they are, they go there choosing not to be, if you know what I mean. My mother would never allow me to attend, and Mr. Pearce should have known better than to ask me.” She smiled ruefully.

“Be warned, for he may well ask you next.”

“Lucky me,” Lucinda said, and Miss Collins and Miss Cox laughed, and even Alfreda gave an unhappy little snort.

“I wish Lord Restive wouldn’t come to these gatherings,” Miss Collins said. “He’s rather exciting, but he’s also crude.”

“He’s irresistible ,” Alfreda moaned.

“He tried to make Alfreda and me believe that he wants us both at the same time—in a frightfully improper way,” Miss Collins said.

Lucinda muffled an urge to giggle. How could Restive? “He makes a practice of shocking people.”

“I’d rather not be distracted from valuable discussions, and yet he’s impossible to ignore,” Miss Collins said.

“I don’t want to ignore him,” Alfreda groaned. “I don’t know what to do !”

“Take what little enjoyment you can from his crude insinuations,” Lucinda said. Restive was approaching, so she raised her voice. “You know he’s just playing games, so why not be amused?”

“That’s excellent advice,” Miss Collins said. “Is that how you do it?”

“I’ve known Lord Restive since childhood,” Lucinda said, wrinkling her nose at him. “He’s like a brother to me, so I am free to be rude in return.”

“Yes, alas,” Restive said, “Miss Belair wounds me every time we meet. Fortunately for my confidence, that is seldom. We must bid you ladies adieu, for Lady Alice is fatigued.”

Did that mean he had learned enough? Or that he had learned nothing at all? Or that he felt that her own efforts were just as useless? Trying not to show her dejection, she bade everyone good evening.

Mr. Pearce rushed up as they prepared to leave. “My dear Miss Belair, we have scarcely met. It is sheer torture to part so soon. Will you attend Lady Tollister’s party tomorrow?”

Drat the man, but at least she’d been forewarned. Lucinda shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not acquainted with Lady Tollister.”

“Ah, but I am,” Mr. Pearce said. “She will be happy to welcome you, I promise.”

“So very kind, but I have another engagement,” Lucinda lied.

“Cancel it,” Mr. Pearce said. “Love takes precedence over—over mere propriety. Please, please do say you will!”

Lucinda began to be annoyed. “It would be rude to cancel. In any event, I cannot come unchaperoned, and I do not wish to trespass on Lady Alice’s time.”

“Lady Alice may be free tomorrow evening,” Restive said, and Lucinda turned on him, barely able to mask her annoyance. No, more like fury.

He smirked, and she longed to slap him. Again, a fervent wish for revenge surged up within her. Was this his way of getting back at her for telling the other ladies to dismiss him as merely amusing?

“I’ll have to consult my engagement book, but I believe I am free,” Lady Alice said, “and I think we can postpone our other plans without causing offense. Thank you, Mr. Pearce. It would be a pleasure. I haven’t seen Lady Tollister in simply ages.”

Not Lady Alice, too! Why?

Lady Alice and Restive went to the door, but Mr. Pearce grabbed Lucinda’s hand and kissed it. “Wonderful!” he cried. “Until tomorrow. Adieu, my goddess, adieu!”

As she hastened away, she heard him say, “Well, Mrs. Spence? Are you happy with my poetry now?”

“You could not have found a better lady to fall in love with,” she replied. “At last, for I feared you would be obliged to settle for much worse.”