They stared at her as if she’d gone mad.

“A map,” Lady Crowland said. “Isn’t that interesting?”

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “May I see the ring?”

Amelia thrust out her arm, letting her sisters ooh and ahh over her new diamond while she gazed up at her new—that was to say, her new old—fiancé.

“Is this where I am meant to make a clever comment about your having found the map of my heart?” he asked.

“Can you do it without making me cry?”

He pondered that. “I don’t think so.”

“Very well, say it, anyway.”

He did.

And she cried.

“Well, that’s a love match,” Milly declared.

They nodded. It was, indeed.

Epilogue

Windsor Castle
July 1823

Are we done?”

The king was bored. George IV never enjoyed his meetings with the Lord Chamberlain. They were always so ill-timed. He did not know how Montrose did it, but they always seemed to interfere with a planned meal.

“There is just one more thing, Majesty.” The Duke of Montrose—his Lord Chamberlain for over two years now—shuffled a few papers, looked down, then looked up. “The Earl of Crowland has died.”

George blinked. “That’s a pity.”

“He was in possession of five daughters.”

“No sons?”

“Not a one. There is no heir. The title has reverted to you, Majesty.”

“This was recent?”

“Earlier this month.”

“Ah, well.” George yawned. “We shall have to give the widow ample time to grieve before we reabsorb the property.”

“Very kind of you as always, Majesty.”

“There is little point in—Wait a moment.” George’s brow furrowed. “Crowland, you say? Wasn’t he involved in that dreadful Wyndham matter?”

“His daughter was engaged to the duke. Er, the first one.” Montrose cleared his throat. “But there is the matter of the earldom. With Crowland available—”

“How is Wyndham?” George cut in.

“Er, which one?”

George had a good laugh at that. “The new one. The real one. Eh, the other one, too. He was a good sort. We always liked him. He quite dropped out of sight, didn’t he?”

“I believe he is recently returned from Amsterdam.”

“What the devil was he doing there?”

“I do not know, Majesty.”

“He married the Crowland girl, though, didn’t he? After the whole mess with the title.”

“He did.”

“What a strange girl she must be,” George mused. “Surely she could have done better.”

“My wife informs me it was a love match,” Montrose said.

George chuckled. It was so difficult to find proper amusement these days. This was a fine tale.

Montrose cleared his throat. “We do need to settle the matter of the empty earldom. It can certainly sit, but—”

“Give it to Cavendish,” George said with a wave.

Montrose stared at him in shock. “To…”

“To Cavendish. The former Wyndham. The Lord knows he deserves it after all he’s been through.”

“I don’t believe his wife was the eldest daughter. The precedent—”