“When Stephen was in his worst difficulties, I did some reading regarding the legal aspects of mental competence. One measure of mental fitness is whether a person knows the difference between right and wrong. Jack surely failed that test. Right was whatever benefited him; wrong was whatever annoyed him. No judge would approve of Jack’s definitions in a civilized society, but those same judges would never regard Jack as mad. I conclude that society itself is mad in some respects.”

The neighborhood had improved as the coach rolled along. The houses were grander, the window boxes full of bobbing tulips.

“By your definition,” Althea said, “half the peerage and most of the wealthier cits are legally unfit. Everything under the heavens exists for their pleasure, women especially. I hear you inspired Rothhaven to walk to the orchard yesterday.”

“Subtle, Thea.” Though Constance gladly abandoned the topic of Jack Wentworth and society’s complete indifference to the evil he’d wrought. “The only way you could have heard about our stroll to the orchard is if Nathaniel paid you a visit sometime between moonrise and dawn.” Assuming Rothhaven had told his brother about the outing to the orchard, and had not been spied upon by his own servants at that brother’s request.

“Perhaps Nathaniel sent me a note to read with my morning tea.”

He most assuredly had not. Constance’s room was immediately adjacent to Althea’s. Shortly before midnight, soft voices had drifted from one balcony to the next, and that was after the happy couple had spent the entire day together.

“Aren’t you worried about conceiving a child, Thea? Sorting out the title could take some time.”

“Sorting out the title will be the work of a moment. Quinn’s consequence is a good thing for once. Besides, unless Rothhaven marries, ensuring the succession will fall to Nathaniel and me. Fortunately, all I’ve ever wanted is a family of my own. Tell me about your trip to the orchard.”

Not bloody likely. “Rothhaven would like me to paint his portrait.”

The coach slowed to take a sharp corner, the streets in York lacking the open grandeur of their much younger Mayfair counterparts.

“Are you considering accepting the commission? You need not, not on my account. Rothhaven can be difficult company.”

How little Althea knew. The idea that the ever-competent, never-hesitant older sister was dealing from a paucity of information pleased Constance more than it ought to.

“Rothhaven never asked to be the duke, Thea. Nathaniel promised Robert he would not have to assume those responsibilities when he brought Robert home. Now the ducal title is thrust upon him, in part so you and Nathaniel can spend all of your waking hours seeing to the succession. Criticize Rothhaven to me at your peril.”