Lord Archby addressed her. “Do you enjoy horseback riding, Lady Joan? If so, I must tell you about my lovely stables in Sussex.” He punctuated the words with warmth. Of the five, he was the most charming.

Alas, horseflesh was the least of her interests. However, to be kind, she nodded. “Do tell me about them.”

“My stallion is from a champion bloodline, quick as lightning and every bit as temperamental.” He gave a wry smirk.

“And you know this from experience? Has he ever thrown you?” she asked, flirting only a bit.

Lord Archby shrugged and cast a sideways glance to his competitors. “Not once have I been unseated, my lady,” he replied with a confident tone, his hand shifting slightly as it rested on his knee, his eyes darting to the left.

Beside him, Viscount Burton snorted softly as he sipped his tea.

Liar. Joan suppressed the impulse to shake her head at the falsehood Lord Archby had told. If she wasn’t convinced by his body language, the viscount’s reaction would have told her the same. The light from the windows dimmed around him, as if swallowed up by the sin he’d committed. Irritated with the lie, she breathed calmly through her nose and turned her attention to the viscount. “And what inspires you, Viscount Burton?”

He greeted her question with a twitch of his lips. “I enjoy the fox hunt.”

“A noble sport,” she replied politely, wondering if anything of true interest would ever be introduced as a topic. At least, of interest to her. “And you raise foxhounds, I assume?”

“Yes. Which, I might add, are the most adorable pups you’d ever see.”

Now that was intriguing. “And that I have no problem believing.” She grinned.

“Do you enjoy animals, Lady Joan?”

“Indeed, especially those of the adorable variety.”

The viscount nodded. “Then I shall notify you when I have a new litter to display for your adoration.”

“I look forward to that,” Joan replied, feeling more at ease.

The social hour carried on in a similar fashion, leaving her quite exhausted from all the attention and conversation when it was finished. At last, she took her leave from the parlor and went to seek solitude in the library.

As she turned the brass doorknob and pushed the door open, the evening light filtered across the rug-covered floor. The chaise lounge near the fire promised respite, and she made her way over to it with gratitude. Joan reclined on the soft brocade fabric, allowing her mind to wander to the afternoon’s events.

She was able to eliminate her interest in several gentlemen and found several others diverting. It was an odd season in her life. She was reminded of the verse in Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” It was a season, hopefully, for love. What a worthy adventure.