“Not Lord Weston’s income, his income.”

“Why am I asking Lord Carlisle about his income?”

“Because he’s an earl, silly, and as everyone knows, an earl in the hand is worth…well, something. The point is that Mama would never forgive me if I was to let a perfectly good earl slip through my fingers because you were too obstinate to ask him what he’s worth.”

“Charlotte, the man may well be the one who is behind the attack on Noble! Would you want to marry someone with such a malformed and ill-natured character?”

“Oh, pooh, it’s nothing that I couldn’t take care of.”

Gillian rolled her eyes and looked back at the list again.

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

Charlotte looked over her shoulder again. “Padded? Well, of course it does! You wouldn’t want me marrying a man who pads his shoulders and calves, would you?”

“Well, of course not, whatever was I thinking?”

“Selfish, that’s what you’ve become since you’ve been married—very, very selfish, thinking only of yourself. Now then, is there anything else you think we should ask this Lord Carlisle?”

Gillian chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “I would like to know the nature of his argument with Noble, but I’m not sure how forthcoming he would be about that.”

Charlotte smiled a wicked smile, then suddenly the expression was gone, replaced by one of innocence so pure and sweet it would make an angel weep.

“Oh, you’re good,” Gillian said with a rueful smile. “You should really be on the stage, Char. Do you think it would work on him?”

Charlotte maintained the dewy-eyed, sweet expression for a few more seconds, then dimpled at her cousin. “Practice, my dear, it’s all practice. I will be happy to show you how to do it on the way to Lord Carlisle’s. It’s just a matter of projecting innocence, if you will…”

“Some other time, perhaps.” Gillian waved her cousin toward the door and turned to hurry Nick along. She was rewarded by the sight of a nine-year-old boy frozen in a pose of humble meekness and submission. He gazed at her with an expression so pure of heart it positively radiated ingenuity and artlessness. He batted his long dark lashes slowly over his silver-gray eyes, then peeked out from beneath them to see her reaction. Gillian laughed and kissed his rosy, cherub’s cheek. “Yes, yes, I can see you too should be on the stage. Come along, Mr. Kean. Your audience is impatiently awaiting your next performance.”

***

“Is it absolutely necessary,” Charlotte asked some minutes later, squirming in the seat and managing to poke her elbow into Gillian’s ribs, “that we bring those hounds? And your pirate? And three footmen? I feel as if I’m in the Lord Mayor’s parade.”

Gillian tried to expand her lungs enough to breathe a sigh, but was crammed in too tightly and had to make do with a tsk instead.

“Tsk, Charlotte! I tried to tell Crouch that it wasn’t necessary to bring three footmen with us, but he muttered something about Noble leaving orders that Nick and I not go out without ample protection, and this is Crouch’s idea of ample protection. I sincerely hope the carriage doesn’t collapse under our combined weight. It seems a little frail.”