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Cassie tried to make herself clear. “You have brothers, so you understand how their energy livens a place.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. I was thinking what a fine ball Sir Adrian gave. Do you know when he will return?”

“I don’t,” Cassie admitted, very much wishing that she did.

Miss Montford sighed. “Maybe he will never come again now that his engagement to Lady Amabel has ended.” She drifted off toward her mother.

Cassie stood rooted to the spot, the same spot outside the church under an old elm where he had told her he would court Amabel. He was free, and he had not come. Around her, neighbors chatted, and their children, released from the good behavior demanded in church, ran about, chasing each other and laughing.

Honoria came to her side. “Are you unwell?” she asked. “Lottie is waiting.”

Cassie made herself walk to the carriage, allowed herself to be assisted inside, and faced her relations.

“So you heard,” Grandmama said.

Cassie nodded.

“There was an announcement in the papers last Sunday,” said Grandmama. “You know the usual thing that Lady Amabel Haydon is no longer betrothed to Sir Adrian Cole.”

“You knew?” Cassie asked.

Grandmama looked a little embarrassed, as nearly as it was for her to be so. “I thought he would have come by now.”

“You thought Sir Adrian was in love with me?” Cassie asked.

“I have suspected as much since we invited him to tea.” Her grandmother spoke with her usual maddening assurance that she was right.

“Tea? We hardly knew him.”

Cassie tried to remain calm. He was free. If he loved her, he would come to Verwood, but she distrusted his history. He had been a lost boy. The world had regarded him as beneath its notice, and his proud spirit had rebelled against those who rated him so. He might not trust her love. The next moment another thought occurred. Why should she wait? She could return to London. She could show him how to face the world. She could show him that for her he had risen above them all. She would write another letter to cousin Marianne.

*

Within a week Cassie returned to Brunswick Square. Within two days she left her card with the Duchess of Wenlocke. On the following day, the duchess returned the call.

Marianne was awed almost to silence by the presence of such a person in her small drawing room. She apologized for her tea and cakes and offered them repeatedly. The duchess was dressed with quiet elegance, and wore an unusual fragment of a man’s military medal and ribbon pinned to one shoulder. Her grace appeared cool and self-contained, except for smile lines around her blue eyes. Cassie suspected that the duchess was amused. She inquired after Marianne’s children and mentioned her own interest in the Foundling Hospital.

When the customary visit came to an end, she asked whether Cassie was willing to take a turn about the square with her. Cassie found a bonnet, and off they went.

“I gather,” the duchess said, “that you have something to communicate of a more private nature.”

Cassie steadied herself. This was her opportunity. “I want first to ask whether you have seen Raven, or whether you know how he is faring after the breakup of his engagement.”

The duchess stopped and turned that warm, sympathetic gaze on Cassie. “Ah,” she said. “He is Raven to you, too. I have always thought the name suited him better than Adrian. Adrian sounds a bit like putting on the posh, if one can do such a thing. And our Raven is … cheeky, clever, proud, fearless.”

The duchess slipped her arm in Cassie’s and gave the arm a little squeeze. “It’s an airy park, isn’t it?”

Cassie’s heart leapt. She might not know how to explain her feelings or what she thought Raven’s might be, but her companion understood. The dry summer had dulled the grass, but the plane trees were still green overhead.

“Shall I begin?” the duchess asked.

“Please.”

“Very well. Raven has been meeting with my husband regularly since his return to London. He put an announcement in the papers immediately upon his return on the advice of solicitors—his grandfather’s and my husband’s. Since then, there have been a series of lawyerly exchanges between Ramsbury’s solicitors and Raven’s.”

They reached the far end of the square and turned back. Above them in the hazy distance lay Hampstead.

“If you are wondering, Lady Cassandra, I don’t believe Raven feels free yet.”