“Her irritability has nothing to do with Justin’s propensity for singing in his mother’s tongue.”

Georgiana stopped short at the top of the stairway. “Don’t tell me you crossed swords with her again last night.”

“Aren’t you glad you weren’t with us? It would have given you a double migraine, if such a thing exists.”

Olivia started down, but Georgiana caught her arm. “Tell me all, please.”

“If you remember, you sent me into the library and said that Quin would follow.”

“Which he did. I watched him track you through the crowd like a fox stalking a chicken.”

“We had just worked out a few things to both of our satisfaction when the dowager entered the room. She interrupted us, if you follow what I’m saying.”

“Just what are you saying?”

“Not that,” Olivia said with a crow of laughter. “We were merely kissing.”

“Oh dear.”

“She was horribly cross about it. She said that I was too fat to marry her son,” Olivia said, going straight to the only point that she clearly remembered. “Apparently, she believes I was a sensible choice for Rupert because my ample hips make up for his deficient brains.”

“I cannot believe the dowager said such a thing!” Georgiana gasped. “She can be brusque, perhaps, but never uncivil. And such a comment—which is so untrue—goes far beyond garden-variety incivility.”

“I assure you, she did say it, but she didn’t truly mean it,” Olivia said. “She’s merely cross that now she will not have Wonderful You as her daughter-in-law—and really, who can blame her?”

“You are very kind, Olivia, but I am disappointed,” Georgiana said, her small bosom swelling with such indignation that she bore a faint resemblance to the dowager herself. “For such a lady of consequence to fall below her own firmly held standards is shocking.”

“It’s probably my influence. I expect she is nothing but sunshine and daisies in the general course of events. I bring out the predator in her.”

“That’s no predator you’re describing. It’s rude, common behavior.” Georgiana finally started down the stairs. “Well, the dowager may be unhappy, but Mother will be ecstatic.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“One duke is as good as another.”

“Once she realizes that you refuse to take my place—well, I don’t like to think. Remember, Father promised that one of his daughters would marry Rupert. Though really, Georgie, when I think on it, you could do worse. You are trained to the job.”

“You don’t want me to marry Rupert,” Georgiana stated. “And I don’t want to marry Rupert. And frankly, whereas you were always a good daughter except in the smallest things, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Olivia asked.

“Mother and Father made the mistake of thinking that because I conquered every task they set me, I was therefore obedient. I’m not.” She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned around to face Olivia.

“Georgie!” Olivia gasped. “You’re—this is wonderful!”

“They also made the mistake of thinking that you were rebellious, simply because you recited limericks and generally carried on. But that was all flummery. You are the obedient daughter.”

Olivia stepped down beside her. “I think I prefer being the rebel. I sound like a ninny.”

“The Duke of Sconce would never be enticed by a ninny,” Georgiana said with a grin. “He’s mad for you. I expected him to break out and announce that he had chosen you to be his wife at the luncheon table, but he managed to restrain himself.”

Just then one of the footmen standing along the walls of the entryway sprang forward and swung open the great doors.

Olivia turned, thinking it might be Quin. Then she froze in place, unable to speak. The person at the door was, most decidedly, not Quin.

Georgiana experienced no such hesitation. “Your Grace,” she said, as Cleese ushered in the Duke of Canterwick. “It is such a pleasure to see you.”

“It’s Rupert,” Olivia blurted out. “Something’s happened to Rupert.”

“No!” The duke turned his head and saw her. “My dear, my dear, it’s the best possible news!”

(As Olivia later told Georgiana, she would have thought that the best possible news would refer to her own pregnancy, and she had very good reason to know that wasn’t the case.)

“Rupert has surpassed himself!” The duke shouted it. His entire face glowed with happiness.

“What?”

“Wreathed in glory,” Canterwick said, still shouting. “Crowned in it! Earl of Wellington mentioned him in the dispatches . . . Prince Regent informed . . . special honors considered. Good evening, Miss Georgiana! And how are you getting along with Sconce, then?”

“Very well, thank you,” Georgiana said, smiling. “I am so happy to hear your news, Your Grace.”

“Not as happy as I am,” the duke said, somewhat less fortissimo. “Happy is not . . . I can’t even describe what I’m feeling. Couldn’t believe it at first. His Majesty’s messenger had to tell me four times. Then I sent a man to Dover to wait for my son and bring him here as soon as he touches shore. Should be any day, the messenger said. I came straight here to share the news. I have to tell everyone.” He interrupted his crowing and moved to Olivia, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving her a paternal shake. “I can see that you’re as dumbstruck as anyone, m’dear. Well, it’s the truth. I see there’s a bit of a party tonight, which is splendid. Splendid! I shall be able to tell everyone at once.”

And with that, he drew Olivia into the drawing room. The dowager moved forward with a smile; Quin turned around from a conversation. Before either of them could greet him, Canterwick waved the assembly to silence as if he owned the house.

He was something of an actor, Olivia thought, starting to get over the shock of his arrival and the astounding news he brought. First she had thought Rupert was dead, and now . . . Now?

“As you may know, my son, the Marquess of Montsurrey, is the major of the First Company of Canterwick Rifles,” the duke was saying, once again at a near-shout. He rocked back and forth on his heels, the words tumbling out. “For one reason or another, the Rifles landed at Oporto in Portugal. Apparently, when my son discovered this error, he shaped up his men and took them across country to Badajoz, the fort of Badajoz.”

The entire room was rapt, attention fixed on the duke. Except Quin; his eyes were fixed on Olivia’s back. Olivia could feel her shoulder blades prickling.

“As I’m sure you know, Badajoz has been under siege, under the command of General Thomas Picton. There had been many an attempt to scale the ramparts—some of them detailed in the London papers—but to no avail. Not, that is, until my son arrived!”

Olivia doubted that the duke knew how triumphant his tone was whenever he said the words my son.

“He’s glowing,” Georgiana murmured to her. “Isn’t it wonderful, Olivia? I mean, wonderful for Rupert. This will change everything for him.”

Olivia nodded.