Weston brushed an infinitesimal bit of dirt from his immaculate sleeve. Sir Hugh hesitated for a moment, then joined the duo and strolled with them out the door and down the stairs leading to the hall.

“No, I haven’t. Is there a reason why you believe I should worry?” Weston drawled the question in a voice laden with indifference.

“None, other than the fact that she might reject you,” Rosse responded. “The gossip about Elizabeth’s death has taken the ton by storm, Noble—already you’ve been cut by a number of prominent men. Even you have to admit that your reputation is a daunting obstacle. The Amazon’s uncle might refuse to allow you to pay your addresses.”

The Black Earl shot his friend a disbelieving look as he accepted his cloak, hat, and walking stick, then stepped out the front door. “I care little for what the ton thinks of me, as you well know. They cannot harm me, so let them say what they will. As for the other, I doubt if Collins will refuse the marriage settlement I am prepared to make.”

“For the Amazon,” Sir Hugh said, his voice thick with emotion.

The three men paused outside. Noble rubbed his hands to warm them as he looked up at a waxing moon. “For, as you say, the Amazon.”

Rosse looked curiously at the baronet’s face, wondering briefly at the expression behind the pale blue hooded eyes, then turned and walked with Weston to the earl’s carriage. With one hand braced on the side, he leaned in through the open door. “Does Tolly know it is you saving him from bankruptcy?”

“No, and I’d rather it stayed that way. If he found out it was I offering more than the land was worth, it would cause him no little embarrassment.”

Rosse considered the Black Earl for a moment. “Saving his neck by keeping the bank from foreclosing goes beyond friendship, Noble.”

Weston looked away and shrugged. “I had a debt of honor to his father.”

“Which you paid in full when you bailed Tolly out of that gambling mess two years ago.”

Noble shrugged again.

“About this other situation…” Rosse gave in to the grin he had been battling for the last half hour. “You might be right in your choice of brides, Noble. A word of warning, however—in addition to being very good for Nick, you might just find your Amazon will turn out to be very good for you as well.” With a tip of his hat, he strolled off toward his own carriage whistling a jaunty tune.

Sir Hugh watched the two depart before gaining his own carriage and giving his coachman an address in Kensington.

***

Gillian sat on the scullery maid’s chair the following afternoon and thought.

“Table scraps are not helping matters.”

A tiny, shriveled woman no bigger than a seven-year-old child perched on a chair across the table. “No, miss, it just seems to make them worse.”

“Have we tried Mr. Mystico’s advice? He is lauded in the Times as being a genius with digestive complaints. What works for people must certainly work for dogs, don’t you think?” Gillian waved toward the booklet she had recently purchased from a street seller.