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There was no time for more, as Mrs. Dere had placed Frances at the instrument and was handing out instructions of her own.

“There being only four ladies to dance at any one time, I have chosen dances specifically for four couples. Listen and watch carefully, Tommies,” the mistress of Perryfield intoned, for you will take Lord Dere’s and Mr. Langworthy’s places shortly.

” The specialized vocabulary the boys had so recently learned was superseded by a host of new terms: set, cast, turn single, up a double, arm left, and so forth, and the figures were taught and repeated a dozen times over.

While the selected dances involved no excessive hand-holding, and while the constant whirl of movement and the teacher’s scolding prevented any awkward pauses (much less conversation), Sarah could think of no reasonable explanation for the irregularities of her pulse or the blockishness of her feet.

It’s not really so odd , she told herself, to feel uncomfortable around a person who asked you to marry him only a week ago and was refused!

Usually a refused suitor took himself off at once, tail between his legs, never to reappear again, or at least never to reappear until he had been triumphantly successful with someone else.

Therefore it was no marvel she should be embarrassed by his continuing, inexplicable, contrary presence.

Things improved once Lord Dere and Mr. Langworthy gave place to Peter and Gordon and Mrs. Dere replaced Frances at the pianoforte.

Romping with family members and children was long familiar to Sarah, and she regained her customary self-command, even joining in the laughter when the weaving pattern of Aye Me thoroughly confused Tommy Wardour and Gordon, ending in them not only far from their partners but paired with each other.

Beside the window, Langworthy and Lord Dere had retreated to observe the proceedings, the baron’s frequent chuckles heard between the music and chatter, and he turned a face both beaming and somewhat apologetic to his guest. “Ah, Langworthy, there is nothing like a full house for delight.”

“Indeed.”

“It was a great joy to me, to hear from my cousin Camilla—Mrs. Barstow—a few years ago,” Lord Dere continued.

“I regretted her meeting with such difficulties in life, naturally—the death of her husband and of her son, your friend Sebastian—and sometimes I feel guilty that I am so glad of their coming to Iffley, when the cost to them was so high.”

“Both feelings are understandable, sir.”

“Do you…hail from a large family yourself, Langworthy?”

“It once was larger, but now there remain only one widowed uncle, a married cousin and her husband, and myself.”

The baron drew a deep breath and patted Langworthy’s shoulder. “What a comfort you must be to them, then. They must be very proud of you—and very grateful for the Peace which brings you safely back.”

Langworthy’s mouth thinned. Lord Dere made the mistake of judging other men by his own yardstick, it seemed.

“I am…afraid we are not particularly close, sir. I used to have two uncles, not mutually related themselves, and only the…less fond one still lives. Uncle Horatio was my father’s brother, and Uncle Edwin my mother’s, and the match was popular in neither camp. ”

“Oh, dear.” The baron clicked his tongue unhappily.

“But they did work together on one thing,” Langworthy resumed, “for which I am thankful: they each contributed to putting me to sea, and they were not wealthy men.”

“Ah. Well done! Well done on their part. And judging by your performance this morning, you must excel in your duties.”

“You are too kind.”

“Kind—nonsense. Only see how eagerly the boys took to your lesson! Why, you ought to be a mathematics instructor. The fact that you can provide practical applications for the lessons only adds to their charm. Perhaps teaching is not as thrilling a profession as the navy, but it is altogether less perilous.”

Langworthy made no response. There was certainly nothing perilous about being a discarded peacetime lieutenant on half pay, but it would hardly do to say so, not when Sebastian Barstow had reaped all the peril Horace himself escaped.

They watched the dancers for a few more minutes before the baron resumed.

“My cousin’s two daughters Adela and Jane have recently married and removed some little distance to Oxford and St. Lawrence, and no doubt Frances—Miss Barstow—will marry when she is a little older, but I comfort myself that I have some years of company yet.

Gordy and Maria and Bash are still very young. ”

“And—there is Mrs. Sebastian Barstow.”

Mrs. Sebastian Barstow, whose face glowed with the exercise and who had laughed more times in the last half hour than in all Langworthy’s previous acquaintance with her. Not that his acquaintance had been of any length, to be sure, but it was a striking sight. A—pleasant sight.

“Our Sarah,” murmured Lord Dere. “I suspect, had Adela and Jane not married and gone away, Sarah would have been content to be the widowed daughter-in-law the rest of her days, but as the nest empties, I would not be surprised if she too would begin to consider making a change.”

“You speak as if it were in her power to do so,” Langworthy answered. He ran a hand along his clean jaw. “Hidden away as she is, with no money and with a young son.”

The baron shrugged. “Iffley may be hidden away, but only see how her sisters-in-law managed. One married Peter’s tutor and the other the curate who preceded Dr. Rearden. And now appears Rearden himself, yet another bachelor. Unmarried men seem to pop up like tulips.”

“Rearden!” repeated Langworthy, unable to keep a note of incredulity from his voice.

“With all respect to the worthy man, he must be twice Mrs. Sebastian’s age.

” Realizing Rearden might also be a contemporary of the man beside him, he sputtered, “That is—er—still in the prime of life but—er—further along than she.”

“Perhaps,” Lord Dere said, a twinkle in his eye suggesting he guessed the cause of his companion’s discomfiture.

“I am no matchmaker; I only give him as an example of yet another single man added to our little community. And a well-off, respectable one, to boot. Of course, Mr. Langworthy, I do not count you among these tulip bachelors, as you are only passing through.”

“Yes.”

“It was good of you to come, however. A great comfort to the Barstows.”

“Mm.”

“I am certain I speak for all of us when I say we hope you will stay a good long time.”

But here one of Langworthy’s brows lifted, as at a private joke only he could understand. “ Are you so certain you speak for all?” Then, catching himself, “Never mind. I thank you, sir.”

Receiving such noncommittal responses, most men would have left the subject, but after a pause the baron went on.

“And should you ever decide to leave off seafaring and hang your sword upon the nail, or whatever the equivalent naval expression might be, Oxford and its environs are the very place for a mathematics tutor.”

Here he had overreached.

Langworthy stared at the older man—if this wasn’t matchmaking on the baron’s part, it was so nearly like it that he could not tell the difference!

What was the fellow suggesting, but that Langworthy had better snatch up Mrs. Sebastian before some other stray “tulip bachelor” did, and trust to teaching and tutoring for income?

Indeed, Dere might even be hinting he could find Langworthy a position, if asked!

Astonishing.

And despite having already made Mrs. Sebastian exactly the offer of marriage Lord Dere now proposed, everything contrary in Langworthy rose up to reject the idea.

It was one thing, after all, for his dear friend Barstow to ask it of him, and quite another for every other Tom, Dick and Harry to make the suggestion in chorus.

In this rebellious spirit he replied shortly, “Thank you again, sir, but it’s the navy life for me. I have no intention of ‘sheathing my sword’ anytime soon. Indeed, I firmly believe there will soon be more use for it than ever. Who knows, but I may return to Portsmouth within the month.”

Had Mrs. Markham Dere been at liberty to overhear their conversation, and had she at all shared in the baron’s unacknowledged design, she would have rolled her eyes in disgust at his clumsy execution and told him plainly that he had accomplished nothing but to drive Mr. Langworthy off.

But as it was, Lord Dere was spared her scorn, and he was allowed to retreat with only his own secret sighs to bear.