She stared at the two sheets of paper. Would it be so very terrible if she took a peek?

No. She couldn’t. It would be a gross breach of trust, a complete invasion of Marcus’s privacy. And of Daniel’s.

But then again, what could they possibly have to talk about that would not be of her concern?

She turned, glancing toward the door the maid had motioned to. She couldn’t hear anything coming through it. If Marcus was finished with his bath, surely she’d hear him moving about. She looked back at the letter.

She was a very fast reader.

In the end, she didn’t really make a decision to read Daniel’s letter to Marcus. Rather, she didn’t allow herself to decide not to. It was a small distinction, but one that somehow allowed her to ignore her own moral code and do something that would have incensed her if it had been her letter lying on the table.

She moved quickly, as if speed might make the sin smaller, and snatched up the two sheets of paper. Dear Marcus et cetera et cetera . . . Daniel wrote about the apartment he’d rented, describing all the neighborhood shops in lovely detail but managing to omit the name of the city he was in. He then went on about the food, which he insisted was superior to English fare. After that there was a brief paragraph about his plans to come home.

Smiling, Honoria turned to the second sheet of the letter. Daniel wrote the way he spoke, and she could practically hear his voice coming from the page.

In the next paragraph Daniel asked Marcus to inform his mother of his impending return, which made Honoria smile more broadly. Daniel could never have imagined that they would be standing with Marcus when he read the missive.

And then, at the end, Honoria saw her own name.

I have not heard any news of Honoria marrying, so I assume she is still unwed. I must thank you again for scaring off Fotheringham last year. He’s a rotter, and it infuriates me that he even attempted to court her.

What was this? Honoria blinked, as if that might somehow change the words on the page. Marcus had had something to do with Lord Fotheringham not coming up to scratch? She had decided that she did not like Lord Fotheringham and would not accept him, but still . . .

Travers, too, would have been a bad alliance. I hope you did not have to pay him to leave her alone, but if you did, I shall reimburse you.

What? People were being paid to . . . to what? To not court her? That didn’t even make sense.