When she went to thump him again, he caught her wrists hard. Her expensive jewellery bruised his fingers down to the bone.

“By all means, Venette,” he said, as she tried to wrestle free. “Wash away. Barl Lindin means nothing to me. How could you even imagine I’d consider her? She is unranked, unruly and—”

“Outrageously fair!” Venette was close to panting, her eyes stormy, full of doubt. “And if you stand there and deny it, Morgan, I’ll never believe another word out of your mouth.”

“Why would I deny it?” he said. “Yes, the girl’s beautiful. And that should be enough to overturn my judgement? My sense of what honour is owed my father and our family name? Is that your opinion of me, Venette?”

“No, of course it’s not, but—”

The parlour door pushed open. “Venette? Venette, my dear, are you in—oh.” Orwin Martain blinked at them, a tiny frown creasing his brow. “What’s amiss? Venette? Morgan, why are you—”

Letting go of Venette’s wrists, stepping back, Morgan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Orwin. I—”

“Oh, Orwin, do go away,” Venette said, flapping her hands at him. “There’s nothing amiss, Morgan and I are simply thrashing out a disagreement. Now off you go. Whatever you want from me will have to wait.”

As the door closed again behind Venette’s obedient husband, Morgan turned on her. “And is that what you’ve told Maris she’ll be marrying? A shambling, bumbling—”

“Don’t you dare insult Orwin!” Venette cried. “He’s a dear, sweet man whose only care in the world is making sure that I’m happy. And you’d best believe, my dear, that if I could find a man as like him as a twin brother then that is the man I’d have recommended to Maris. But my Orwin is one of a kind.”

Though he was still angry, Morgan had to smile. Orwin certainly was that. Besides, though he’d not known Maris Garrick for long, he felt tolerably certain that a man like Orwin Martain would be far too soft-hearted and pliable for her.

“Morgan… my dear…” Abruptly conciliatory, Venette perched on the arm of the nearest plush sofa. “If your head’s not been turned by that wretched Lindin girl, why would you throw your chances with Maris so up in the air by refusing to attend the Garricks’ house party? I don’t know if you know it, but it’s counted one of the more exclusive social events of the year. Some very useful people will be there. People it will do you no harm to impress.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I not impressive enough already?”

“Oh, Morgan.” Venette rolled her eyes. “There is no such thing as being too impressive.”

“I take it Maris told you I’d refused her invitation?”