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“And now?” Kitty prompted, leaning closer.

“Now I can’t quite remember what I was so busy bracing against.” Laura smiled shyly.

“Do not tell me you are in…”

“Yes, I am in love with him, Kitty.”

Kitty stopped walking and turned to her, a wide grin splitting her face. “Laura Wright. You should have led with that!”

“Your Grace, if you please,” Laura corrected, laughing. “And I wanted to tell you properly, not shout it over Everett’s dreadful coat.”

“That coat could survive being shouted over. It could survive a cannon blast.” Kitty squeezed her arm. “I’m glad. Truly. Whatever fears you carried into that auction house, I’m glad they didn’t win out in the end. You deserve every happiness.”

They had nearly circled back toward the main promenade, still arm in arm, when Everett and Nathaniel emerged from the crowd, each holding two small tarts wrapped in paper. The sweet, sharp scent of orange reached Laura before either man did.

“We come bearing gifts,” Everett announced, presenting his tart with a flourish.

“They look exquisite,” Kitty said, accepting hers.

Nathaniel held one out to Laura. She took the first bite with wide eyes, the gesture warming her chest in a way that had nothing to do with the tart.

“Well?” he asked, taking a step toward her.

“Exquisite,” she said, and he drew her against his side.

Twenty minutes later, the orange tarts were demolished, and Kitty was deep in an increasingly scandalous story about her cousin’s dalliance with the local vicar, when Laura spotted her husband again.

He looked handsome, with his broad shoulders and slicked-back hair. She noticed he was not with Everett, but standing beneath one of the trees in close conversation with a man she recognized instantly.

Lord Alden.

She would recognize that face anywhere, even in the dim light.

“Kitty,” she said, wrapping an arm around her friend. “Would you mind terribly if we walked that way?”

Kitty followed her gaze and nodded. “Who is he?”

“The man who ran that dreadful auction,” Laura whispered.

“Oh my,” Kitty gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I could never forget that face. Nathaniel’s been trying to earn his trust for months. Something to do with his late sister.”

Kitty nodded and squeezed her arm in understanding.

They drew closer to the men, though not so close as to be seen. They were near enough that Laura could catch the men’s conversation.

“… and I told him the price was final,” Alden was saying, swirling the brandy in his gloved hand. “A man who haggles over shipping insurance after the contract’s already been drafted has no business being in shipping at all.”

“I’d have told him the same,” Nathaniel said, his tone mild, but Laura knew better by now. “Though I imagine you enjoyed telling him more than I would have.”

Alden laughed, genuinely amused. “You’re not wrong, Your Grace.” He took a sip of his drink. “You have a good head for this. I’ll admit I was surprised when we first met.”

“Oh, really?” Nathaniel set down his empty tumbler on a passing tray and grabbed a flute of champagne.

“You get your hands dirty, for a duke,” Alden said, smiling.

“I find it useful to understand what I’m signing.” Nathaniel shrugged. “Family trait, unfortunately. My father was the same, suspicious of anyone who wanted his signature faster than he wanted to read the page.”