Elinor looked at him for a long moment, her expression maddeningly unreadable. “Do you know,” she replied quietly, “I believe I can.”

Hugh blinked once. “You can what?”

“Believe you,” she clarified. “I believe your apology, and I believe you are sincere. More than that, I accept it, whatever that is worth from me.”

“Really?” He grinned out of sheer relief. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Nor did I, believe me,” Elinor commented as she began to walk again. “Only an hour ago, I was considering ways to make you fall through the ice.”

He hissed a wince as he followed, falling in step beside her again. “I’m a terrible swimmer. Could we not have me somehow strung up by holly and ivy and whatnot?”

“And have you become part of the decor? I think not, we have no greenery to spare for you.”

“More’s the pity.”

“You have no idea.”

Chapter Five

There is nothing more dangerous to an unmarried man than a room filled with eligible, desperate, intrepid women. Be ye forewarned.

-The Spinster Chronicles, 13 February 1819

“What’s the matter with you, Elinor?”

Elinor looked at her younger sister in surprise. “Nothing is wrong with me, E. Why would you ask?”

Elizabeth raised a trim brow. “You didn’t make a single face during supper. You appeared calm and content, and I would swear you even smiled at something that Mr. John Winthrop said.”

Clearly, the punch was getting to her sister’s head.

“I did smile,” Elinor informed her without shame. “It was a witty remark.”

“I thought you hated all men,” Elizabeth muttered in a low voice, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen you smile at a single one before.”

All men? Well, that was hardly fair. Elinor didn’t know all men; how could she hate them all? She winced and could have kicked herself. She had gone through a rather violent phase of hating all male creatures, be they horses, humans, or hounds, and none were spared from her barbs. Her friends in the Spinsters would certainly have had the same opinions her sister did, undeserved though they were.

No, that wasn’t right. They were deserved, at the time.

When exactly her opinions had changed, she couldn’t have said.

She didn’t hate Tony Sterling, Georgie’s husband, and she didn’t hate Camden Vale, Prue’s. She was learning to like Sebastian Morton, the man who had married Izzy, though there was not much at all to dislike in him. Grace’s husband, Lord Ingram, she already liked immensely.

That had surprised her, considering she hadn’t known much about him when he’d crossed their path, but he was almost sinfully handsome, witty in all the best ways, and had a measure of irreverence that made him almost addictively charming. Meeting him had shifted something in Elinor, though she would have to be honest enough to admit that it had begun to shift before then.

If Lord Ingram had had eyes for anyone but Grace, Elinor would have considered tossing her bonnet or handkerchief in his direction.