Rue tried to swallow a smile. “I don’t think you’re helping matters, Prim.”

Prim amended her statement. “Not that you aren’t handsome yourself, Mr Lefoux.”

“Thank you,” said Quesnel immodestly, giving her a seductive glower.

Rue kicked him under the table. He didn’t even flinch.

Prim continued, “Not that I could possibly understand the appeal but females are always flirting shamelessly with Percy. He’s quite the ladykiller, aren’t you, brother dear? I understand our dad was a bit of a dasher as well in his day.”

Percy looked at his sister. “Tiddles, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but it isn’t helping.”

“Not that he tries to be a ladykiller. Of course. He simply can’t stop himself.”

Percy grumbled at his book. “Oh no, it’s my dashing good looks.”

The funny thing was, of course, Primrose was perfectly correct. At any given ball, Percy inevitably found himself surrounded by young ladies angling for a dance. After suffering what amounted to two sisters, Percy was a marvellous dancer and all the society mothers knew it. They also knew that he had powerful relations without being a risky supernatural proposition himself. Untitled, yes, but rich was almost as good, and he ranked high with the sunset crowd by association. One could overlook his parents’ theatrical background and his own curious case of bluestocking fever in favour of such amenities as money, connections, and appearance. As for the young ladies, there was something about his academic snobbery that drew them in like butterflies to a flower – a gawky, uncomfortable flower. They even liked the aloofness. One could never expect to be flattered by Professor Tunstell. Exposure to Percy at a ball, Miss Prospigot had announced recently, hands clasped to her lips, “was positively soul quivering”.

Primrose continued, “He’s always getting himself accidentally engaged. That’s why he withdrew from polite society, isn’t it, Percy? Tired of breaking all those hearts.”

Quesnel sat back, watching the interchange with eyebrows arching so high they almost ate into his hairline. “Very noble of him.”

Rue felt compelled to add, “Sad to say, Mr Lefoux, but she’s perfectly correct. I can’t explain it either.”

“So you haven’t fallen victim to the professor’s unavoidable allure?”

Rue baulked. “I should say not. He’s practically family. Why, I find you far more appealing than old Percy here.”

Prim said, “Hear hear.”

Quesnel looked suddenly pleased with life.

Percy slammed his book closed. “Really, girls! I hardly know the medicine from the ailment.”

Quesnel said, “It’s a strange back-handed compliment, ladies, but I’ll take it.”