Charlotte alternately laughed and choked. In fact, she found herself wondering whether she had missed most of Sophie’s jokes before she got married. Would she have understood Sophie’s joke about the newlywed Lady Cucklesham, who married for money and then wore her maidenhead on her finger in the likeness of a large diamond?

“Were I minded to be the wife of a fool,” Sophie said a little moodily, “I couldn’t do better than Braddon. He would never bother to question what I was about, and he’s eternally good-natured and discreet. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s ungentlemanly behavior.” She gave a little shudder.

Charlotte looked at her friend sympathetically. Everyone knew that the Marquis of Brandenburg could not resist a Frenchwoman, particularly when he drank overmuch.

“Don’t do it, Sophie,” she urged, a little surprised at her own fervency.

“Why ever not?”

“Because … it is wonderful being married to a man who isn’t a fool.”

“They are all fools,” Sophie said rather shortly. Then she smiled wryly at Charlotte. “I don’t mean to take away from your married bliss. But in my experience—granted, only gained by observation, but none the worse for that—in my experience, even the best men take to foolish behavior like a duck to water.”

“Still,” Charlotte persisted. “You could find a fool whom you like more than you like Braddon.”

“That’s just it. I do like him. He reminds me of the little brother I used to wish I had. As a child, I often heard my parents fighting with each other. My mother used to care a good deal more about my father’s inability to resist a lovely Frenchwoman than she does at this point. I would wish and wish that I had a little brother: someone uncomplicated and loving. And Braddon is like that, Charlotte. He’s very uncomplicated. I know he’s loving—I overheard Sylvester Bredbeck say that Braddon has more mistresses depending on him than a lawyer has cases. Although, to do him justice, he keeps his mistresses out of the ballroom.”

Charlotte involuntarily giggled, even as she winced at the sad image Sophie offered of her childhood.

“But, Sophie, you can’t have children with someone who is like a little brother!”

“I want to marry someone who will be—a pleasant acquaintance. That strikes me as the best kind of ton marriage,” Sophie said. Then she brightened. “Have you heard how well your protégée, Chloe van Stork, is doing? I vow, that girl is in a fair way to claiming some of my suitors! Not that I mind. She could even have Braddon but the gossips suggest she is waiting for Will Holland.”

Charlotte thought back to her wedding ball. “Chloe liked him very much,” she said.