I took her hand, ashamed I’d been lying here feeling sorry for myself when she faced her aunt’s needling about her unwed state every day. “I agree a woman should not marry simply for the sake of marrying, but seek a man she esteems and respects,” I said, my voice a rasp. “But what will you do if you don’t marry? I ask of practicality, not despair. At one time, you were prepared to go live with Lady Roberta.”

“Yes, but Bobby had assumed we’d become lovers. I had to disappoint her, poor gel.”

Cynthia spoke lightly, but I remembered she’d been quite upset she’d had to hurt Bobby’s feelings, fearing she’d lose her closest friend.

“She has become fond of another, you said.”

“Indeed she has.” Cynthia’s grin flashed. “Miss Townsend.”

“Ah.” Surprise flickered through my misery, but it explained things. No wonder Miss Townsend was serenely single, no worries about matrimony on her mind.

“Terribly dark secret.” Cynthia lowered her voice to a whisper. “Her family mustn’t know, in case they cut off the funds. Bobby won’t mind if you know though.”

“She knows my secret.” I was feeling a bit better as I lay here—perhaps what I’d needed was rest.

“And respects you the more for it—she said so.” Cynthia waved her hand, the damp cloth scattering droplets on my coverlet. “I can’t run off with Bobby and interrupt her domestic bliss, but I wish I could go somewhere. Driving me mad, living in this house, dodging the gentlemen Auntie tosses at me. I’d sympathize with the poor chaps, but she has a talent for inviting the most insipid, empty-headed young fools imaginable. They’ve never read a book in their lives. If you mention Michelson’s thoughts on the speed of light, they think you’re talking about a racehorse.”

I didn’t know who Michelson was nor much about the speed of light—indeed, I’d had no idea light had a speed—but again I heard the ring of Elgin Thanos in her words.

“I want you to marry Mr. Thanos.” The words slipped out before I could stop them—I must have a fever coming on.

Cynthia sprang up, but only to pace. “That’s rich, Mrs. H. He’s lovely, and a friend, but he’ll have no interest in taking a wife who likes to wear trousers. He needs a quiet, sweet young woman who will organize his notes, bring him tea, and make certain his boots match.” Her voice faltered, as though she pictured Mr. Thanos with such a young woman.

“You rub along well,” I said with conviction. “He admires you so very much, and you admire him. All we must decide upon is how you will live.”