“I can’t think what you are about, Quill,” Peter continued, all his animosity about this absurd situation brewing in his tone. “By all rights, you should have been at court this morning. Everyone was there to celebrate the birthday. Believe me, Prinny may not be hand and glove with his brother, but he always notes if Prince Edward is slighted. Now that you are walking, you no longer have an excuse for such flimsy manners!”

“I forgot,” Quill drawled, moving forward so that he was standing just behind Gabby.

“You forgot!” The acid brewing in Peter’s stomach leaked into his tone, making it a trifle shrill. “No gentleman could forget the happy occasion of doing honor to one of our princes. Just as no gentleman would force a lady to remain in public in such a state.” His eyes skittered over his future wife’s ruined clothing once again.

“I can’t think what Codswallop was about,” Peter went on, finally meeting Gabby’s eyes. “He is not, in general, a butterfingered fool.” His tone warmed as he thought about the agony Gabby must be suffering. Indeed, her face looked pinched and rather white. “One of Mother’s chairs is quite ruined. Although the chair’s demise is nothing compared to the affront offered Miss Jerningham.”

Quill turned toward Gabby, but she looked away. She couldn’t admit to being the butterfingered fool she actually was, not in front of her elegant betrothed. Even though Quill’s horrid grin implied that she was acting like a naughty five-year-old by remaining silent.

Peter rang the bell cord. “I shall summon your lady’s maid to escort you to your chamber. If you feel too discomposed to join us for dinner, please know that my feelings are with you. Should this insufferable accident have happened to me on my first visit to England—nay, at any time!—I should take at least a day to regain my spirits.”

He made another elegant leg to Gabby.

Gabby gasped and bobbed a curtsy. She felt incapable of responding to anything Peter was saying. This couldn’t be Peter. Well, it was Peter. Now that the shock was over, she could see that the lines of his face approximately followed those of the portrait. But this restless, elegant, shrill…popinjay! He was scented. She smelled it when she grasped his hand.

Gabby swallowed. She was very close to tears. She had never felt like such a loutish gawky girl in her life, and her life had been generously adorned with such moments.

Then someone took her hand. Gabby gulped and looked up. Through her slightly blurred eyes, she suddenly saw the Peter of her portrait. He smiled down at her kindly.

“I am so sorry that your arrival in our house was dampened by Codswallop’s unfortunate accident, Miss Jerningham.”