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trembling on either side of her round face. “I’ve been practicing my witty conversation for weeks.”
    “What could His Grace be thinking?” Daphne lamented. “It just isn’t done!” She pushed away the silver teapot as if she couldn’t stand the thought of drinking at such a moment.
    “I quite agree,” Emily assured her. The idea still stunned her. Marriage? She’d only just graduated!
    “I fail to see,” Priscilla said, green eyes narrowing dangerously, “how Lord Robert can pull together a wedding in eight days, unless you plan to elope to Scotland.”
    Emily shuddered. “No, thank you. But then, I didn’t plan to get married either. How would I even find time to be fitted for a wedding gown?”
    “Surely Lord Robert gave you some sign of his affections,” Ariadne said, reaching for a comfit Warburton had set out. “A lock of hair, a passionate letter.” She popped the chewy confection into her mouth as if she feared the sugar would dirty her soft pink gown.
    “Not a word,” Emily said. “Though apparently His Grace had some inkling. He and Lord Robert’s brother, the new Lord Wakenoak, have been discussing marriage settlements for months. They simply weren’t sure Lord Robert wanted to settle down.”
    Of course, they hadn’t asked her whether she wanted to settle down. Young ladies were supposed to desire marriage above all things. But this? Emily’d been so shocked by her father’s announcement that she’d even forgotten to ask Warburton about the mysterious gentleman in the library until this morning.
    “A Mr. James Cropper,” her butler had said when she’d cornered him after breakfast. “He had a letter of introduction from a fine gentleman known to His Grace and wished to have words on a private matter, so it seemed appropriate to allow him to wait in the sitting room.”
    How very odd. Did thieves have letters of introduction?
    “If he should call again,” Emily had said, “I want you to find me straightaway.” She supposed Mr. Cropper had not come calling today, for she’d heard nothing more.
    Now Priscilla rose to pace the room. Her hair was as bright as the gilt chairs, and her blue muslin day dress with its white lace collar looked like a pale copy of the Wedgwood blue wallpaper.
    “Then all is not lost,” she declared. “We have only to convince Lord Robert that you must wait until after the ball. Think, Emily. What can we use against him?”
    Emily raised her brows. “Against him? What do you plan, Pris, blackmail?”
    Priscilla paused in her pacing. “If necessary.”
    “Surely we can reason with him,” the ever logical Ariadne protested.
    Emily could not feel so confident. Ever since her father had told her he agreed with Lord Robert’s plans last night, she’d felt squished, her bones pressed together, as if her body were trying to curl into a snail’s shell. She’d tried to protest, but her father had seemed so very happy about the entire matter that she couldn’t find it in herself to disappoint him. Having her friends here now made it easier to breathe, and to think.
    “Perhaps this isn’t so horrid,” Priscilla said, coming to sit near Emily on one of the delicate little blue chairs. “Some people might even say you’re fortunate. With his family connections, Lord Robert is quite a catch.”
    Possibly, but Emily wished she understood why she’d caught him. It wasn’t as if their lands marched side by side. His Grace’s estates were all entailed to Cousin Charles, and she brought only a small estate from her mother to the marriage. And if it were a duke’s consequence he craved, there must be other dukes with marriageable daughters. Why her?
    “I still cannot like it,” Daphne said, shifting in her gilt chair across from Emily. The weak spring sun, trickling through the windows, made the green sprigs on her white muslin dress look like little tufts of grass. “Lord Snedley is most particular about the way engagements are to be announced, and