‘My what?’ Rosalind raised her eyebrows as she drifted over to the case where the jewelled magnifying glass sat.

Hugh sat up straighter, closing his book on his lap. ‘Oh, you know. Every time I’ve seen you this weekend you’ve had those other two following you around like ducklings to your mother duck. Caro Hooper, of course, and the American. Posy. I assumed they were trying to cash in on your popularity.’

‘Posy’s British. She just grew up in America. And I think Caro has always been the most popular Dahlia Lively,’ she replied, keeping her voice mild.

‘Only to the plebs with no taste.’ She hated it when he was like this: aloof and above everyone. When they’d met, so long ago now, he’d seemed different. Privileged and wealthy, but aware of it, perhaps. Compared to Rosalind’s upbringing, he’d seemed like he’d arrived from another world – but one he’d been eager to welcome her into.

As the years went on, after he welcomed Isobel into it instead of her, that had changed. Rosalind’s star rose, she married, moved up in the world – financially and socially. And Hugh started to treat her as if she’d been there all along, saying the sort of things about those with less that he never would have done when they met.

When she was the one with less.

It might not have bothered her so much to hear him talking down Caro before this weekend. In fact, if she was brutally honest, she knew it hadn’t. She’d heard his words and believed it was his way of defending her, of declaring his love for her without saying it out loud in front of others.

But now it sounded different. Defensive. Jealous. As if she’d taken a part of his aunt’s legacy that he wasn’t willing to give up.

Eager to change the subject, she nodded to the glass case. ‘I see you found the magnifying glass?’

Hugh glanced over, placing his book on the shelf beside him, then pushing up on the arms of his chair to cross the room and join her. ‘It was the darndest thing. Just showed up there again yesterday – no idea where from. I half wondered if Isobel had hidden the cursed thing herself to cause a scene.’

‘Why would she do that?’

Hugh shrugged. ‘Who knows, with Isobel. Probably to punish me for agreeing to hold this blasted convention in the first place. Given everything that’s happened since, maybe she thought I’d been punished enough. But I have to tell you, I’m happy to see the thing again. Worth a fortune, that is. Could have claimed on the insurance, I suppose, but that’s just money, isn’t it? And Aunt Letty was always so fond of it.’