“Why ever would it be?” Charlotte said. “I have an independent income, and my brother, being a man, is all that is needed to carry on my father’s dukedom. No”—she shook her head, her eyes shining with mischief—”I foresee a future without a husband. But,” she said, patting the earl’s hand comfortingly, “I can recommend some very nice women for you. After all, your requirements aren’t very high—only that she be maternal—a widow with several children would be just the ticket. Let’s see, there’s Lady Doctorow. She’s not precisely beautiful, but only the strictest critic would say she was homely. More important, she is very motherly, and she has five children already, so she is sure to like Pippa!”

“Oh, no,” said Alex. “My wife can’t have children already. No, Lady Doctorow is out.”

“Well,” Charlotte began, but she was interrupted by Daphne Boch.

“That child,” she said rather sharply, “has fallen asleep with her face on a plate.”

The entire party swung about. Pippa had indeed fallen asleep, her face lovingly pressed into a plate that had once held ice cream. Moreover, she still had strands of grass sticking to her face, mixed with mashed strawberry. In all, she looked so thoroughly motherless that Charlotte’s heart turned over.

Alexander merely picked her up and looked about for a suitable cloth to wash her face. When he didn’t see one, he turned and in one smooth gesture plumped Pippa straight into Charlotte’s lap.

“Would you hold her for one second?” he asked with a charming smile. “I will trot over and see whether the nanny fell in the lake or what.”

Even from here Charlotte could tell that Pippa’s young nanny was having an excellent time flirting with the earl’s four footmen and the baron’s one attendant.

She looked down at Pippa, who thankfully had not woken up and was now loudly sucking her thumb. He wasn’t joking. Alex really was looking for a mother for Pippa, and she was apparently the current candidate for motherhood. She had a split-second urge to roll the dirty, rather damp child straight out of her lap. But then … Pippa was sleeping so sweetly, her face pressed against Charlotte’s knee. She stayed put, torn between indignation and tenderness.

Alex seemed to be spending an awfully long time talking to his servants. She looked up to find the rest of the party gazing at her in horrified amusement.

“I am so sorry,” remarked Daphne in her strong French accent. “Your beautiful gown will be quite ruined. And that gown was made by Madame Carême, was it not? This earl does not exhibit good manners!”