“Oh well, then, stands to reason,” said Sir Peregrine. “You said you left after the Terror. Weren’t they after your head?”

“Of course,” said the Duke simply. “I was… er… kept in hiding for some years. My parents did not escape. That is why I have the title,” he added gently.

Sir Peregrine flushed. He felt as if he had just been guilty of some social gaffe. “Your niece is deuced pretty,” he said to cover his confusion.

“She is very beautiful,” corrected the Duke. “Alas! There are so many young men after her hand, I fear I do not know which one to choose.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Sir Peregrine, suddenly sobering. He felt quite piqued. He had thought this handsome uncle had singled him out as a suitor for his niece and was quite prepared to run for cover if that were the case, but now that it appeared there was, so to speak, already a long queue in front of him, he all at once remembered how attractive and charming he had found Alice.

“I have the honor of another dance with your niece, sir,” he said hurriedly. “Perhaps I should go and find her before some other lucky man steals her from me.”

“Yes, so many young men,” went on the Duke as if he had not spoken. “She is a considerable heiress and I fear that is a great deal of the attraction…”

This was too much for Sir Peregrine. He had held an heiress in his arms and if he did not hurry, he might lose her. He got hurriedly to his feet and then remembered his manners and turned back to make his adieux. But of the uncle there was no sign. He had simply disappeared. He blinked and then headed rapidly for the door, nearly colliding with the Duke and Duchess of Haversham. He noticed that the usually glacial pose of the Duchess appeared to have cracked, but he was in too much of a hurry to wonder about it for very long.

“It’s a disgrace!” the Duchess was saying. “And I cannot help feeling it is all your fault. First you philander with the guests at Wadham, and then you have turned my ball into a sort of sewing circle for gentlewomen.”

“My dear,” said the Duke of Haversham, very stiffly on his stiffs, “I have no control over the behavior of my guests once they are here, and for you to blame me for the antics of a parcel of elderly chaperones is beyond belief.”

“I shall be a laughingstock,” said the Duchess, clenching and unclenching her hands. “I have always been famous for my ton, for the elegance of my soirées. Look!”