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Young lady after young lady came up against the child’s bizarre interrogations, fumbling for an answer that might please him, until, all too soon, it was Marina’s turn.

“I am… Marina,” she said, floundering for even that morsel of information.

“And?” the dowager prompted, after a minute had gone by and Marina had not said anything.

What do I tell them? Oh, mercy me, what do I say?

She had never been trained for this. No one had ever taught her what to say and how to behave, or what young ladies of the ton were supposed to like. Indeed, her education had been rather… unorthodox.

“I… um… am currently very interested in medicine,” she said, grimacing. “Old remedies and new discoveries, and everything in between. It is endlessly fascinating. One could study for years and still not know half of what heals a person.”

A couple of the ladies snorted, and Marina knew she had failed.

“Is it true that a person can die of a broken heart?” William asked, sitting forward.

Marina frowned. “Well, that would depend on what you mean. Do you mean ‘broken’ as in ‘not working as it should’, or do you mean ‘broken’ in the emotional sense?”

“Both.”

She smiled despite the whispers of the ladies around her. “In that case, yes. One can very much die of a heart that no longer works as it should. There are conditions such as cardiac insufficiency, carditis, endocarditis, hydropericardium, myocarditis, that could cause death in a person. As for the other sense of the term, there is a great deal of evidence to suggest that an event of enormous emotional turmoil can affect the body, the organs, as much as any ‘physical’ disease or ailment. It has even been known to bring on an apoplexy in some people.”

“What is an apoplexy?” the boy asked, eyes wide.

“A sort of… complete seizure of the body. A paralysis,” she replied.

William frowned. “Why does my father sometimes say that Grandmama was apoplectic?”

The dowager coughed, her eyes even wider than her great-grandson’s.

“Ah, well, that is to do with the ever-changing nature of vocabulary,” Marina replied with an awkward smile. “It does not mean that your grandmother was suffering an apoplexy, but rather that she was… um… so angry that she appeared to be having a fit.”

She did not dare to glance at the old woman, certain she would receive a stinging glare for that remark. But, really, she was doing the dowager a favor by putting his mind at ease that she was not actually apoplectic.

William nodded, grinning. “Yes, I can see that now! You do get very angry sometimes, Grandmama.”

The dowager coughed in disapproval. “If we could steer away from this subject, please. My great-grandson does not need to know of such things. Nor, I am quite sure, do I know why you are so knowledgeable about such a… strange interest.”

Marina’s cheeks flamed, though she could never be ashamed of the things that fascinated her. Revealing her interests in public, however, was not without embarrassment.

Then again, what did it matter? She should fill the boy’s head with the wonders of medicine while she had the chance, for she was not the prettiest, nor the most graceful, nor the most feminine of the group; it was not as if she was going to be chosen as a duchess.

All she could take out of this room was her pride.

“It is vitally important,” Marina replied. “One day, perhaps, it might help me to save a life. Indeed, it is my belief that everyone should know the most rudimentary medicines: willowbark for fever; valerian for improved sleep and headaches; feverfew for fever, pain, inflammations; St. John’s wort for melancholia; Portuguese wild thistle for burns; henna for wounds. And one can grow most of those things in their own g⁠—”

The drawing room door flew open and a tall, handsome tempest blasted in.

“Get out,” he growled, one of the crumpled invitations smoothed out and gripped in his hand.

“Your Grace?” Yvette gasped, dipping into a peculiar, seated bow.

Ah, so you are the one my poor uncle thinks I have any chance with?

Marina eyed him: he was not at all what she had imagined. Attractive? Certainly. Tall, powerful, with the physique of a man who was not idle? Absolutely. To her taste? She did not know if she had one.

“All of you who do not live in this house, get out!” the duke barked, his handsomeness fading by the moment.

The other ladies jumped up in fright, scurrying out of the room before he could ask twice.