“It’s true,” Honoria confirmed. “He and my brother were the closest of friends.”

The room went silent at the mention of Daniel. Honoria wasn’t sure if this was out of respect, awkwardness, or regret that a perfectly eligible gentleman was lost to the current crop of debutantes.

“Well,” Mrs. Royle said briskly. “Do your best. It is all we can ask of you.”

“Oh!” Cecily yelped, stepping back from the window. “I think he’s here!”

Sarah jumped to her feet and began smoothing her perfectly unwrinkled skirts. “Are you certain?”

“Oh, yes.” Cecily practically sighed with delight. “Oh, my, but that’s a gorgeous carriage.”

They all stood still, awaiting their guest. Honoria thought Mrs. Royle might actually be holding her breath.

“Won’t we feel foolish,” Iris whispered in her ear, “if it is not even he?”

Honoria bit back a laugh, shoving her cousin with her foot.

Iris only grinned.

In the silence it was easy to hear the knock at the door, followed by the slight creak as the butler opened it.

“Stand straight,” Mrs. Royle hissed at Cecily. And then, as an afterthought: “The rest of you, too.”

But when the butler appeared in the doorway, he was alone. “Lord Chatteris has sent his regrets,” he announced.

Everyone slumped. Even Mrs. Royle. It was as if they’d each been pricked by a pin, the air squeezed right out of them.

“He sent a letter,” the butler said.

Mrs. Royle held out her hand, but the butler said, “It is addressed to Lady Honoria.”

Honoria straightened and, aware that every eye was now trained on her, worked a little harder to suppress the relief that she was sure showed on her face. “Er, thank you,” she said, taking the folded sheet of parchment from the butler.

“What does it say?” Sarah asked, before Honoria could even break the seal.

“Just one moment,” Honoria murmured, taking a few steps toward the window so that she might read Marcus’s letter in relative privacy. “It’s nothing, really,” she said, once she’d finished the three short sentences. “There was an emergency at his home, and he is unable to visit this afternoon.”

“That’s all he said?” Mrs. Royle demanded.

“He’s not one for lengthy explanations,” Honoria said.

“Powerful men do not explain their actions,” Cecily announced dramatically.

There was a moment of silence while everyone digested that, and then Honoria said, in a purposefully cheerful voice, “He wishes all well.”

“Not well enough to grace us with his presence,” Mrs. Royle muttered.

The obvious question of the house party hung in the air, with the young ladies glancing back and forth between them, silently wondering who would step forward to ask it. Finally, all eyes settled on Cecily. It had to be her. It would have been rude coming from anyone else.

“What shall we do about the party at Bricstan?” Cecily asked. But her mother was lost in thought, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Cecily cleared her throat and then said, a bit louder, “Mother?”