“I am sure there is not. Did she know they were your favorites or was it just a fortunate guess on her part?”

“No, I told her. She has been very accommodating this morning. She’s a very nice girl, Emily Smithfield. I can see why you admire her.”

“Indeed,” Alexander agreed, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “She spent some time with you this morning?”

“Yes, I told her she ought to go to London. ’Tis rather a shame she has to be stuck in the country like this. When I think of what a good modiste could accomplish . . .” Sir Marcus’s voice trailed off, as he became lost envisioning playing Pygmalion to Emily’s Galatea. He shook himself from his reverie, and continued, “Regardless, we both agreed she would benefit from a broader circle of friends she could make in London society. She finds the country somewhat confining.”

“Apparently the country is not too confining. She seems to have made one new friend already.”

Marcus smiled. “Well, I hope so. One can never have too many friends.”

“Particularly when the friend is an attractive young lady who believes you to be the heir to a dukedom.”

Marcus’s smile faded. “I do not think I appreciate your remark, or your tone of voice. If you are trying to make some sort of implication, I can only say you’re far off the mark. I do not have any designs on your lady, nor does she on me.”

“Well, I believe that you may not be interested in her, I know you don’t have any wish to be leg-shackled, but you must remember that Emily believes you to be highly eligible.”

“I think you are doing her a disservice. Her attentions to me have been those of a gracious hostess to a guest in her home, and nothing more.”

Alexander shook his head, a skeptical look on his face. “Here speaks the man who has not been the target of grasping females for the past ten years.”

“I tell you, Alex, I think all the attention has spoiled you for a good female. You cannot believe there are any decent women out there who would be interested in a gentleman for anything other than his title and fortune. For your information, Emily tried to lead the conversation to a discussion of you, but I had no desire to contradict whatever you may have told her concerning your assumed identity, and turned the subject.”

Alexander relaxed a little and looked at his friend hopefully. “She asked about me, did she?”

“Yes, she did. Although I am starting to think you don’t deserve a nice girl like Emily. Lady Cynthia might be the better match for you after all.”

Sir Marcus was prevented from saying anything else by the pillow his best friend smashed into his face.

Emily and Lydia made a trip to the vicarage early Friday morning to deliver some sewing they had done for a few of the poorer families in the parish. Emily viewed this as a perfect opportunity for Lydia and Sedgewick to spend some time alone with each other. She had been distracted from her original intention to get them together by the visit of the duke and his son, but she had not lost sight of her goal.

She thought it was a little too bad that neither she nor Lydia could love Lord Wesleigh, for if one had to marry, she supposed it would be preferable to marry someone with money. She had formed a better opinion of Lord Wesleigh over the past few days, but she still knew she did not feel for him what one should feel for one’s husband. She supposed she would have to resign herself to life as a spinster, but she felt that Lydia, at least, should have her chance at happiness.

Lydia was absorbed in her own thoughts, as well, so the walk to the vicarage was accomplished in near silence. They were admitted into a comfortable room set up as a library by Mrs. Baker, Sedgewick’s housekeeper. Emily had been inside the vicarage before, but now that she knew her sister was interested in Sedgewick, she was far more interested in her surroundings. Yes, it was quite cozy, and she believed her sister would be very comfortable there. Emily wondered if she herself could be comfortable in a country vicarage such as this, and felt that she could, with the right vicar. She shook her head, as if to dispel such a thought. The curate she was fantasizing about would probably never see the inside of another vicarage. He was more likely to see the inside of Newgate.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Sedgewick and Williams. Emily explained the purpose of their visit, and Sedgewick thanked them for their charity in bringing the linens.

“Would you like some refreshments? Some tea, perhaps?” Sedgewick offered.