“It’s true about Clarissa. You know it is. That’s why she didn’t come shopping. Too many men to flirt with during the break. I heard she has done more than flirt too.” Anna lowered her voice. “I heard she married an old man, and she’s tired of him.”

“Anna Maria Bunch, you stop that right now. Gossiping is wrong, and Mrs. Carlyle is our friend,” Rebecca snapped before quickening her pace.

Chastened, Anna fell a few steps back. Scowling, she stuck her tongue out at the back of her sister’s head. Juliette offered her arm to show she understood, and Anna took it with a grateful smile. Gossip or no, Juliette needed to learn all she could about Clarissa Carlyle.

When they found Mrs. Carlyle, her behavior was as Anna predicted. She was surrounded by men laughing and vying for her attention. High color rode her cheeks, and she tapped at one man’s hand playfully. Sunlight gleamed off her golden-brown hair and picked out the bachelor-button blue of her eyes.

“See? Like moths to a candle flame,” Anna whispered. “It’s like she cannot help herself. And she brags about it. Especially when Rebecca and I have never had a suitor between us.” Anna gave a forlorn sigh.

Juliette patted her shoulder. Anna’s transparent nature and frank speeches made Juliette feel positively ancient. “Your time will come. You are charming and friendly and interesting, and some young man will grasp that truth soon, I’m sure.”

Another huge sigh. “That’s what my mother says.”

Mrs. Carlyle noticed them waiting outside the circle of gentlemen and beckoned. “I wondered where you’d gotten off to. It’s nearly our turn. Gentlemen, if you will excuse us, we have a tournament to win.” She smiled prettily, fluttering her lashes, and walked past slowly, her hips moving in a way that had all the men looking after her.

Anna elbowed Juliette in the ribs. “See?” she said again.

Juliette did see, but now was not the time to pursue the line of inquiry. Though from the little she had heard and observed, it was not difficult to imagine Mrs. Carlyle playing the coquette. But with Garfield Montgomery?

An hour later, they were admiring the rosettes pinned to their shooting jackets and congratulating one another. Within moments of receiving their awards, however, Clarissa Carlyle had moved into the same circle of men waiting near the ropes.

“I’m happy, but I’m sad too,” Rebecca mourned, touching the frill around the red rosette. “Anna and I will remain in the novice class, but you and Clarissa will move up to the next grade for sure.”

“Why was Mrs. Carlyle in the novice division? She’s clearly a more-than-competent archeress.”