Gillian smiled. “Have you ever known me to be able to hold my tongue?”

Charlotte continued to look thoughtful. “No, but I don’t anticipate that that should be too much of a problem. I fancy Weston enjoys honesty.”

“So I have all the necessary ingredients to make me the perfect wife to the Black Earl?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Charlotte replied cheerfully and checked her own figure in a long oval mirror.

“Except one.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s not in love with me.”

Charlotte turned and looked at her cousin with a gentle, pitying smile. “What has love got to do with the earl asking you to wed him?”

“Charlotte! I couldn’t possibly marry a man who didn’t love me.” Charlotte gave her a weary look that spoke of wisdom beyond her eighteen years. Gillian looked at her hands, twisting the gold gauze of her overskirt. “I suppose a love match is out of the question—no one marries for love anymore.”

“Only romantics and women of a low station,” Charlotte agreed.

Gillian released the handful of gauze and smoothed her palm over it. Meeting her cousin’s eyes in the mirror, she smiled. “As if it matters—we’re talking foolishness, my dearest Charlotte. The earl has much plumper pigeons to pluck than me.”

Charlotte gave her gown a final tweak and spun around. “We’ll see what happens tomorrow. If he calls for you again, we’ll know he’s serious. Mama wouldn’t allow him to dally with you if his intentions weren’t honorable. Heavens, there goes the second gong. Papa will be furious if we hold up dinner!”

The two women hurried down the hallway.

“What will you wear tomorrow?” Charlotte asked, pausing to pirouette before a mirror at the top of the stairs.

“What does it matter?”

Charlotte made an annoyed sound and started down the stairs. “What you wear matters greatly! You don’t want to appear before the earl in another of your work gowns,” she tossed over her shoulder. “You should strive for a look of sophistication and elegance, as I do.”

“A gown isn’t going to make me sophisticated and elegant.” Gillian laughed. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, made a face, then turned and sprinted down the stairs. “I have red hair, green eyes, and freckles, Charlotte, and I’m not in the least sophisticated or elegant. You can put your faith in the fact that no matter how well suited you might believe us to be, the earl will not pay his addresses to me.”

Charlotte gave her cousin a mysterious smile as she swept into the dining room.

***

Unaware that he was the object of discussion, Noble Britton, the most infamous of all the Black Earls, sat in the smoke-filled card room of White’s and proceeded to win most of the family fortune of Manfred, Lord Briceland. Despite his reputation as a merciless, cold predator, Noble did not enjoy destroying men, even foolish young men like Lord Briceland.

“My vowels, Lord Weston.” The young man’s hand trembled as he scrawled his signature.