His wig was slightly crooked, I noticed, and a pie crumb rested on his burgundy waistcoat. I never used to notice such things before. I hadn’t cared a whit about appearances until I’d needed to. The higher the status, I’d come to learn, the fewer the crumbs. My inheritance put me above the Holdridges, but the line between us had blurred over the years. My arrival had brought a flood of comforts, like linens and silver imported from England, better foods and wines, additional household help when we needed it—all so I could continue in the lofty mode of living to which Emmeline Coates had been accustomed in Antigua. This had incidentally elevated the Holdridges, which pleased me greatly—and eased my conscience.

“Today is cause for celebration, to be sure,” Uncle Henry continued, “but ’tis bittersweet for me. Your father’s will provisioned for your guardianship until you reached the age of twenty-two. That means that, as of today, you are no longer my ward. I no longer provide you ‘wing, protection, and cover,’ in the eyes of the law.”

“Oh?” I squeaked. I was going numb from the inside out. This had never been discussed with me. “You have been the very best guardian, Uncle.”

“You have made it easy to be. However, I have not fulfilled my obligation to your father. He requested that I see you settled in a good marriage, to a young man equal in fortune and status. I believe I have found such a suitor. The gentleman coming to be Major André’s aide has an estimable pedigree. The Duncans are distantly connected to your father, through ties of marriage, which only makes the match seem the more fitting.”

I leaned against the window. “The match…?”

“Miss Coates…” He took a half step closer and softened his tone. “Dear Emmeline…there is no need to be embarrassed. It has not slipped my notice that your romantic prospects have been disappointing. Perhaps I am partly to blame for that. You have a rather masculine intellect and I have not discouraged it, but many men are not so liberal-minded.”