But Lady Danbury’s point was a valid one. The ton was a far-flung society this time of year, with most people in the north or the west, or more pertinently, somewhere other than Cambridgeshire and Berkshire and points between. Hardly anyone saw reason in opening their London houses for less than two weeks when they could enjoy the hospitality of someone else.

Although it must be said, that opinion was not shared by everyone.

“Remind me,” Hugh said to Daniel Smythe-Smith as they walked through Fensmore’s entrance hall, “why am I not going home?”

It was a three-day journey from Fensmore to Whipple Hill, two if one wanted to push it, which no one did. Hugh supposed it meant less overall time in a carriage than returning to London and then heading out to Berkshire a week later, but still, it was going to be a mad journey. Someone (Hugh was not sure who—it certainly wasn’t Daniel; he’d never had a head for such things) had plotted the route, marked all the inns (along with how many rooms each held) and figured out where everyone must sleep.

Hugh hoped no one not planning to attend the Chatteris-Smythe-Smith-Wynter weddings was out on the roads this week because there would not be a room to be had.

“You’re not going home because your home is dull,” Daniel told him with a slap to his back. “And you don’t own a carriage, so if you were to return to London, you’d have to find a seat with one of my mother’s friends.”

Hugh opened his mouth to speak, but Daniel wasn’t done yet. “And that’s to say nothing of getting to Whipple Hill from London. There might be room with my mother’s former nanny, but if not, you could try booking a seat on the mail coach.”

“Are you done?” Hugh asked.

Daniel held up a finger as if he had one last thing to say, then brought it back down. “Yes,” he said.

“You are a cruel man.”

“I speak the truth,” Daniel replied. “Besides, why wouldn’t you want to come to Whipple Hill?”

Hugh could think of one reason.

“The festivities begin as soon as we arrive,” Daniel continued. “It shall be continuous and magnificent frivolity until the wedding.”

It was difficult to imagine a man with a soul lighter and more filled with joy than Daniel Smythe-Smith’s. Hugh knew that part of this was due to Daniel’s upcoming nuptials with the beautiful Miss Wynter, but truthfully, Daniel had always been a man who made friends easily and laughed often.

Knowing that he had destroyed the life of such a man, Hugh had found it that much more difficult when Daniel had been exiled to Europe. Hugh was still amazed that Daniel had returned to his position in England with grace and good humor. Most men would have burned for revenge.