“Lovely! Better now that my sweet Harry is here with wine. Huzzah!” She grinned up as the fawning footman—how was she so familiar with him as to know his name?—poured her a full glass of wine. “Thank you, dear one. Aren’t you a gem?” She lifted her glass in a toast and the older couple was quick to follow. He lifted his with no small amount of reluctance. “To my lovely companions, and of course, wonderful Harry, who has seen fit to save me more than once.”

Valentine had the distinct urge to throw the lovesick, smitten Harry overboard when he went fiery red and stammered his thanks. Valentine’s scowl grew teeth. Devil take it, was no man onboard safe from her flirtatious attentions?

“How has he?” he bit out.

Winsome blue eyes met his. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”

“How has a footman saved you more than once?” The way he repeated it sounded in no way how she’d said it, given the way Lady Willington’s face tightened with displeasure. Lady Bronwyn, however, didn’t lose her smile.

“Oh, dearest Harry led me here! I was so late, you see.” She took a liberal sip of her wine. “I simply could not decide which gown to wear, and then there was the matter of jewels. Pearl earbobs or diamonds? A necklace or a choker? It’s enough to give one a megrim, I swear.”

Good God, she was so shallow, she set his teeth on edge.

“Anyway, after much ado about everything, we finally came to an agreement, and here I am at last, thanks to Harry, of course.” She lifted her glass again, though the footman had disappeared. “To Harry!”

“To Harry!” the Willingtons chorused with fond smiles.

Valentine did not lift his glass, only stared and cursed his fate, his life, and his foul luck. He was going to stab himself with his own fork, just to put himself out of his own misery. Hence, it was no surprise that when he saw Lisbeth returning, his skin crawled with relief, despite her expression that told him she hadn’t found their target.

“Lady Bronwyn, what an unexpected pleasure,” she cooed, retaking her seat.

“My lady,” Bronwyn said. “How lovely to see you. It has been an age, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, I believe it has been, though I’m sure that Thornbury has told you the news of our separation.” She waved a hand. “All amicable, of course. We remain dear friends.”

“I was sorry to hear it,” Bronwyn replied.

“Thank you and nothing to be sorry about.” Lisbeth grinned. “He’s an absolute bear most days, which I don’t miss. Getting a smile out of him was like working my way past a thorny hedge without getting scratched.”