Even now, it made her knees quiver to think of it. Her knees, for heaven’s sake!

“Is that man involved in a charitable scheme with Lord Haverford?” Miss Compton asked.

“I believe he is,” Effie said. “Is Lord Mannering a charitable fellow? You know him far better than I.”

“He concerns himself with charitable matters, naturally.”

“There you are, then.”

A frown creased Miss Compton’s brow. “I suppose you might be right.”

Mary silently entered carrying the tea tray. It held a silver tea service, a set of painted porcelain cups and saucers, and a plate containing what appeared to be a small seedcake. She brought it to them.

Effie smiled again. “Thank you, Mary,” she said. “You may put it down here.”

“Yes, miss.”

“I hadn’t intended to linger,” Miss Compton said after the maid departed.

“Nonsense,” Effie replied. “You must tell me all about your understanding with Lord Mannering.” She reached for the silver teapot to pour out their tea. “Do you know, I suspected he had a prior attachment. On the few occasions I met him, he had a faraway look in his eyes, as though he was thinking of someone else.”

Some of the tension left Miss Compton’s face. “Did he?”

“Assuredly so. But tell me, why such a long engagement?”

Miss Compton’s hands slowly unclenched. “Papa doesn’t approve of him for me,” she said. “Something about Lord Mannering having unfavorable vices.”

“Oh?” Effie passed her a cup of tea. She remembered Gabriel saying that Lord Mannering had once been at his mercy. If that were so, his lordship’s vice must have to do with gambling. “I wouldn’t have believed so.”

“Nor do I believe it,” Miss Compton said, accepting the cup. “And nor does my mother. She agrees that someone as handsome and affable as his lordship is would never behave in an ungentlemanlike manner.”

Effie wasn’t sure what handsomeness had to do with it. “So, you continue to hold out hope?”

“I see no reason I shouldn’t.” Miss Compton took a sip of her tea. “Do you expect him today?”

“I don’t expect anyone,” Effie said. “I’m still so very new here. Every visit is a surprise.”

Miss Compton’s eyes narrowed. “If he does come—”

“I shall talk only of you,” Effie promised.

“And if he should ask you to join him for a drive or a walk in the park—”

“I shall suggest we make a foursome of it with you and…” Effie stopped. “Who else should I mention inviting?”

“Mr. Royce or Lord Haverford, I daresay, if they’re involved in a charity together.” Miss Compton lowered her cup. “I far prefer Lord Haverford, though he is old and stuffy.”

“Excellent,” Effie said. “We have a plan.”