Charlotte drew to a halt before her and gave a haughty glare down her nose. “Bite your tongue, Caro! I am an earl’s daughter, the widow of the heir to a count, and I shall be a nobleman’s wife, so help me! No, I shan’t look outside of the ton, but I will defeat my brother nonetheless.”

A look of interest sparked in Caroline’s dark gray eyes. “How will you manage that?”

“It’s evident that Matthew will not be quiet about my arrival in London. No doubt he’s been carrying out his plans to keep me from my rightful place by spreading this foul slander at his clubs, filling the ears of all of the eligible gentlemen with warnings against me.”

“I could ask dearest Algernon if he has heard anything,” Caroline offered helpfully.

“Mmm.” Charlotte twisted her borrowed handkerchief as she paced, her mind a whirl of thoughts. “There must be someone imperious to Matthew’s evil plan. Who’s in town, Caro? Unmarried and wealthy and titled gentlemen only, of course.”

“Impervious.”

“Who?”

“The word is impervious, not imperious.”

Charlotte paused to glare. “Not you as well? What happened while I was in Italy? Did some sort of language plague strike everyone?”

“But—”

“Did you or did you not agree to help me?”

“Yes, of course I did, but—”

“Even after my brother warned your husband about you being seen with me?”

“Yes, I told you that I reassured dearest Algernon that you were blameless—”

“Then would you kindly construe your mind to matters of importance, and not blether on about silly things such as mere words!” Charlotte shot her a penetrating glance before turning to the window to breathe in calming gulps of air.

“Constrain, not construe,” Caroline said softly.

Charlotte spun around. “What?”

Caroline blushed and lowered her eyes to the gloves twisted between her fingers. “Nothing. What did you want to know about the gentlemen?”

“Everything. Who is in town now, who has a fortune and title, and of course, whether they will look good against me.”

“Whether they will look good against you?” Caroline blinked in surprise.

“Yes, yes, will they look good against me! That is to say, will our appearances complement one another? Will we have handsome children? I must have a husband who will give me handsome children. Can you imagine having ugly children?” She shuddered. “It wouldn’t be tolerable at all. Therefore, I must select a husband who not only has the fortune and position I require, but he must also have looks that will complement my own.”

Caroline gaped at her openmouthed.

“Come along, Caro, I don’t have all day, I have to make plans. Who of the gentlemen in town possesses suitable fortune, rank, and appearance to meet my needs?”

Caroline snapped her mouth shut. “I…you…well…there’s Sir Everett Dillingham.”

Charlotte seated herself on the love seat and picked up an ebony-figured fan. “Everett? Is he still alive? Too old, Caro, much too old. He must be all of forty, if he’s a day! Think of someone younger.”