“I adore Horatius,” his sister said, unrepentant. “I have since the moment I laid eyes on that bawling, red-faced little monster. But he can’t help himself, Hugo. It must be some sort of disease that erupts now and then in the ducal line. He thinks like a duke, and I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

“He’s not yet a duke,” Hugo said. But he felt far older than his years at the moment.

“When will you see Lady Woolhastings next?” Louisa asked, polishing off her sherry.

“Thursday for the theater, then supper with Lady Fernby,” he said, dispirited. “She’s a friend of Lady Woolhastings, or Edith, I should say. Though Edith has not given me permission to use her given name.”

“Lady Fernby is a friend of mine,” Louisa said, looking delighted. “I shall send her a message immediately and ask her to add a cover to the table. But first I shall send Edith a message and ask her to accompany us to the Frost Fair tomorrow morning.”

“With the children?”

“Of course, with the children,” Louisa said. “They’re your children, and if you marry, they will be hers as well. They must meet her.”

“You told me not to mention children,” Hugo objected. “If she sees how many there are, and how lively they are, she might decide not to marry me.”

“I know I gave you that advice, but on reflection, I decided I was wrong. The children ought to have a chance to meet the woman who would become their stepmother.”

“All right,” Hugo said reluctantly.

“I shall have a word with them over breakfast about minding their manners. Edith is punctilious with regard to etiquette and deportment. Her girls were delightfully well behaved from the age of two, as I recall.”

“Joan seems to have calmed,” Hugo said.

“When she isn’t shrieking like a night bird,” Louisa said briskly. “I think she’s going to have a gift for drama: She is either joyful or tragic. And just so you know, she is still throwing crockery whenever she has a chance. Leonidas has been desperately naughty in the last few weeks. I think he misses you most of all, Hugo. He needs a man in the house.”

“He’s only six!”

“A troublesome age for boys,” his sister stated.

She was given to pronouncements about children, though Lord only knew where she got the authority. She read that thought in this face, because she added, “As I well know from watching your four older sons grow up, Hugo.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Louisa. If you are not comfortable with Edith, I shan’t marry her.”

“Your sister’s opinion is not a good measure by which to choose a wife,” she said, rising to her feet. “I need a bath and a restorative nap before the evening meal.”