I looked at him suspiciously. It was starting to sound as though William had already spoken to Sir Thomas about an alliance although he had not mentioned it to me before. I wondered what else he might be up to.

The suggestion of one of the Leigh family surprised me, however. Not only were they a Protestant family, but they were of merchant stock only a generation back. I was not so high in my opinion of our own status, but William was mightily proud of his ancestors’ long lineage as gentlemen and courtiers. The Catesbys might have fallen on hard times of late, adhering stubbornly to our faith and paying dearly for it, but we were still old gentry. Sir Thomas Leigh was an upstart. He was, however, a very rich upstart and William was a pragmatist, so perhaps that was how they had affixed upon this mutually pleasing arrangement.

“I do not recall seeing Mistress Leigh,” I said.

“You would have remembered had you done so.” William sounded almost dreamy. “She is as fair as an angel, tall and of beauteous countenance and with a sweet nature to boot.” He cleared his throat. “Her dowry is sizable and she is a year younger than Robert.”

Catherine Leigh sounded almost too good to be true.

“You have clearly given the matter more consideration than I had realized,” I said dryly. “Have you already negotiated a contract with Sir Thomas?”

William had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Certainly not, my dear. I would make no such momentous decision on our son’s future without consulting you. Sir Thomas and I discussed the betrothal only as a possibility, and in passing.” He paused. “But I do believe they might make a good match.”

“I will need to meet Miss Leigh first,” I said, “before I give any match my blessing.” I stood up. “I shall call on the family,” I said decisively. “I would invite them here, but I have no desire for Robert to meet this angel before I approve her. If I like what I find, you may speak again to Sir Thomas and they can join us for the celebration of the twelve days this year.”

William’s smile was dry. “It may not be so simple,” he said. “The girl’s mother is a Spencer, of Althorp, and she may not see Robert as a good match. You may meet your match in her, my dear.”

It took more than a Spencer pedigree to subdue me. I suspected that Lady Leigh and I might well be cut from a similar cloth and once we came to an understanding, all would be well. My most difficult task would not be to get Robert to fall in love with Catherine Leigh but to persuade her mother that the match was a worthy one for her daughter. William was probably right that she would correctly consider Robert to be the disreputable son of an impoverished recusant, which was not the splendid catch a mother might want for her well-dowried eldest child.