“With all due respect to your father, and his father before him, and all the generations of Dyer forebears before them,” Basset began slowly, “one might prefer a unicorn as an emblem over a surly, stubborn, utterly useless goat.”

Adelaide’s jaw dropped in silent outrage, and her eyes darted to her father. “Father! Did you hear what he said?”

“Loudly and clearly, my dear,” came the simple reply. “Had I known you were keen on disparaging family crests, I’d have warned you about ours, but alas…” He looked at Basset with a slight smile. “For what it is worth, we also bear a lion. But I cannot argue the merits of the goat when you are quite right. Often I’ve found the goat is a truer representation of certain members of the family.”

Reeling from the sudden betrayal, she whirled to face her mother, who only blinked. “Mother!”

The impossible woman only mouthed wordlessly.

With a final act of desperation, Adelaide looked to her cousin. While not a Dyer by name, Anna’s mother had been, and therefore, some outrage should be shared.

Anna stared at her with wide-eyed confusion. “What do you want me to say?” she whispered.

Adelaide returned her stare, wishing she knew what ought to be said, what rebuttal should be given, what argument she could make. What revelation could prevent this marriage.

Phillip would not be enough. They had made no promises, had shared no embraces, garnered no scandals. Her feelings were irrelevant, and the prospects of Basset were too great to contend with. Wealth and status would be a fine accompaniment to her beauty and birthright, and surely finery could grant her joy where her marriage could not.

Surely her heart could learn to love and adore Phillip from afar and wait for a more perfect moment. Adelaide bit the inside of her cheek softly, waiting for the various pieces in her mind to form a clearer picture than the one she’d known before. She would not be beaten in this.

She would not.

Forcing her expression into one of cool complacency, Adelaide turned back around, allowing her lips to curve ever so slightly. “Well played, my lord. I can see we shall make life rather interesting for one another after we wed. I shall have my modiste send you the details of my wedding gown, and you must select which family gems would suit it best. I shall wear any of them with pride.”

Basset matched her bare smile and bowed. “I shall endeavor to see you splendidly arrayed, Miss Dyer, so that you may be the envy of all. Surely that is what a bride wishes for on her wedding day?”

Oh, he was a canny one, and there was no missing the arrogance in that statement.

“Quite,” she replied, extending her hand out to him.