"I think not, Lucius," Maria corrected with a pointed look.

"Oh, how can you think so? Besides, Mama will be there.” Philippa put on her most coaxing face, which rarely worked with Lucius. “Of course you will get more invitations. Everyone wants to invite you."

“You’re still a Corinthian in London, even though you’re past your prime,” George said with a laugh. “Everyone talks of your exploits.”

Lucius—about to protest past my prime, indeed—instead turned to his brother. “I hope you correct their misconceptions.”

“No, I only fill in the missing details,” George retorted, grinning broadly.

“The devil take you,” Lucius replied good-naturedly.

“To answer your question, Lucius,” Maria said, “Holbeck will never agree to an entire London Season, and I believe you know that. He is too busy with his political functions. As head of the family, you will have to be the one to host Philippa.”

Lucius saw the future with foreboding, as the oppressive weight of an entire Season living in the same house as his family came forcibly upon him. His mother would come to escort Philippa, and that would mean bringing their two younger siblings as well, who were still in the schoolroom. Christopher would plague Lucius to death to take him everywhere, and Louisa would bore him with her idle chatter. A sense of dread crept over Lucius. Whatever had possessed him to come visit his sister?

His thoughts had already started to stray, and he would not tarry. He had come with a vague sense of mission, however, even if he could not bring himself to ask about Miss Lockhart directly. “Who else is coming to your ball, Maria? I hope not Gregson. He’s removed himself to London, has he not?”

“Oh, no. No such luck,” Maria answered mildly. “Mr. Gregson is home for the holidays, and I couldn’t very well not invite him, not without giving great offense to the rest of his family.”

Lucius pointed his finger at Philippa, forcibly reminding himself of his deceased father. “Now that’s someone you’ll steer far from, if you please. He is only trouble.” When George laughed again, Lucius pointed at him, too. “And you as well, George. No sitting down at the card tables with him.” He was beginning to feel ancient.

“Lucius, since you asked, I invited Miss Woodsley to the ball. It will be an occasion for you to further your acquaintance with her. I suppose you’ve had a chance to meet her?” Maria paused.

What an irony. Lucius had resisted the idea of marriage, because he feared a wife would eat up what precious little peace his life afforded him. Maria was pushing the one girl Lucius knew for a certainty would cut up his peace. However, he couldn’t betray Miss Woodsley’s folly to his sister, who was the worst gossip in the county. He would have to let Maria think he was considering her proposal.

“Yes, a taking thing,” he said. He drank his tea in a gulp and attempted nonchalance. “And Miss Lockhart will come too, I assume? You would have given her an invitation.” It was not a question, and he was not prepared for Maria to sit upright.