She smiled serenely. “A very wise person once told me that it is not the mistakes we make that reveal our character but what we do to rectify them.”

“A very wise person?” he murmured.

“Very well, it was my mother,” she said with a sheepish smile, “and I will have you know that she said it to Daniel far more than to me, but I’ve come to realize—and I hope he has, too—that it is true.”

“I believe he has,” Hugh said softly.

“Well, then,” Honoria said, briskly changing both subject and mood, “what do you say? Will you join me at the main table? You will be doing me a tremendous favor.”

“I would be honored to take your cousin’s place,” he said, and he supposed it was the truth. He’d rather go swimming in snow than sit up on a dais in front of all the wedding guests, but it was an honor.

Her face lit up again, her happiness practically a beacon. Was this what weddings did to people?

“Thank you so much,” she said, with obvious relief. “If you had refused, I would have had to ask my other cousin, Rupert, and—”

“You have another cousin? One you’re passing over in favor of me?” Hugh might not have cared overmuch for the myriad rules and regulations that bound their society, but that did not mean he didn’t know what they were.

“He’s awful,” she said in a loud whisper. “Honestly, he’s just terrible, and he eats far too many onions.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Hugh murmured.

“And,” Honoria continued, “he and Sarah do not get on.”

Hugh always considered his words before he spoke, but even he wasn’t able to stop himself from blurting half of “I don’t get on with Lady Sarah” before clamping his mouth firmly shut.

“I beg your pardon?” Honoria inquired.

Hugh forced his jaw to unlock. “I don’t see why that would be a problem,” he said tightly. Dear God, he was going to have to sit with Lady Sarah Pleinsworth. How was it possible Honoria Smythe-Smith didn’t realize what a stupendously bad idea that would be?

“Oh, thank you, Lord Hugh,” Honoria said effusively. “I do appreciate your flexibility in this matter. If I sit them together—and there would be no other place to put him at the head table, trust me, I looked—heaven only knows what rows they’ll get into.”

“Lady Sarah?” Hugh murmured. “Rows?”

“I know,” Honoria agreed, completely misinterpreting his words. “It’s difficult to imagine. We never have a cross word. She has the most marvelous sense of humor.”

Hugh made no comment.

Honoria smiled grandly at him. “Thank you again. You are doing me a tremendous favor.”

“How could I possibly refuse?”

Her eyes narrowed for a hint of a moment, but she seemed not to detect sarcasm, which made sense, since Hugh himself didn’t know if he was being sarcastic.

“Well,” Honoria said, “thank you. I’ll just tell Sarah.”

“She’s in the drawing room,” he said. Honoria looked at him curiously, so he added, “I heard her speaking as I walked by.”