When her sister met that pronouncement only with perplexity, Lettie released a sound of frustration. “Anthony,” she repeated.

Because, really, was there another?

“As in Anthony, the Earl of Montgomery.” He’d not come around in years, and he was no longer an earl, but rather, the Duke of Granville.

Her sister looked out briefly. “So it is.”

That was it? “That is all you’ll say?”

Caroline frowned. “Very well. He’s no longer the Earl of Montgomery, but rather, the Duke of Granville.”

“Caroline!” Lettie didn’t care if he were a prince or a pauper. “This is Anthony, who was only ever Rhys’ best friend.” The same Anthony who’d given her rides upon his shoulders. Shoulders that had grown increasingly broad since she’d last ridden upon them. Her cheeks warmed under that notice on her part.

Her sister gave a dismissive wave. “They were boys, and it has been years.”

She opened her mouth to tell Caroline precisely what she thought of her lackluster response to Anthony’s return, but her sister’s words—it has been years—froze that particular argument and fixed her thoughts on another. “Why did he stop coming around?”

That query managed to penetrate even her sister’s blasé response about Anthony’s return. Clearly stymied, Caroline cocked her head. “I don’t know.”

As one, they located Anthony, now the Duke of Granville.

Lettie took note of a detail she’d previously failed to notice.

Anthony was flanked by his mother, the Dowager Duchess, and a golden-haired, flawlessly beautiful young lady dressed in a glorious white silk creation and adorned in diamonds from her neck to her neckline on down to her hem.

“She is magnificent,” Caroline said in reverent tones.

“Oh, hush. That is—”

“Destined to be the Diamond of the Season,” her sister finished over her.

“—his sister, Lady Eloise, I take it,” Lettie murmured. Late as they were to the event, no formal introduction had been made. But apparently, none was required.

The trio had already been swarmed by a sizable army of potential suitors vying for the lady’s dance card, while lords and ladies throughout the room strained to gain Anthony’s attention.

As the current dance ended, another commenced, and the lady was escorted onto the floor by a gentleman, while the Duchess of Granville conversed easily, engaging Lady Fitzhugh on her right, smiling and laughing.

“The duchess smiles,” Lettie remarked, and more, it was a real smile.

“Why shouldn’t she be smiling?” Caroline rejoined. “Her daughter is a Diamond and a success.”

Unlike them. Lettie bristled, snapping her focus away from the woman in question and over to her killjoy of a sister. “Hey now. I’d not qualify either of us as a failure.”

Her sister gave her a pointed look. “Are you wed? I’m certainly not, but do you somehow have a husband that no one knows about?”