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“He leaves books in my chair,” she said, shaking her head ruefully.

Amelia lifted a brow. “A serious failing.”

“He claims he is saving them for me.”

“And is he?” Daphne asked, her eyes dancing.

“Sometimes,” she said. “At other times, I suspect he has forgotten where he put them.” It was a small thing, but she adored him all the same. “He makes me feel loved and appreciated.”

“Good,” Daphne said softly.

Amelia brushed a crumb from her plate, her fingers quick and decisive. “Well, that settles it.”

“What does?” Elizabeth asked.

“We must find someone for Charlotte,” Amelia said.

Elizabeth lowered her cup, the porcelain clicking against the saucer.

Daphne looked at Amelia for a moment, then slowly set down her own cup, her expression growing thoughtful. “I have been thinking the same thing.”

“Have you?” Elizabeth asked, surprised.

“Ever since your wedding.” Daphne settled back against the cushions, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “She was so pleased for you.”

“She was,” Elizabeth said quietly.

Before the ceremony, Charlotte had stood beside her and made a small, sensible remark when Elizabeth’s hands began to tremble. Her light green eyes had been warm and steady. Her voice had held a calm that Elizabeth had clung to like a rope. Afterward, when Julian took her hand, she had looked toward her friend and found Charlotte smiling. She had been a little misty-eyed, her fingers pressed to her lips. That day, people who loved her surrounded her. Charlotte deserved to know that happiness too, and the thought tightened Elizabeth’s throat.

Amelia leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her voice low and eager. “She has taken a considerable interest in all our affairs. Surely she cannot object if we return the kindness.”

“She can,” Daphne said dryly. “And she will.”

Elizabeth smiled. “At considerable length.”

“Then we must be discreet.” Daphne gave Amelia a doubtful look, one brow arching.

“I am capable of discretion,” Amelia protested, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Until you become impatient,” Daphne said.

“Then it is good you will help me,” Amelia added.

“We both will,” Elizabeth said, a laugh bubbling beneath the words. “Since you made this decision for us.”

“Excellent,” she said. Amelia’s expression brightened. “You are learning.”

Elizabeth laughed, then shook her head, tamping down her smile. “We must not assume she wants to marry simply because we have.”

Daphne’s amusement gave way to thoughtfulness, and she traced the rim of her cup with one finger. “You are right.”

“Nor ought we to decide what will make her happy,” Elizabeth continued, her voice growing firmer. “We may introduce her to someone. The rest must be hers.”

Amelia regarded her for a moment, her head tilted, her gaze sharp and curious. “You sound remarkably certain.”

“I know how much it mattered to me,” Elizabeth said quietly.

Neither friend teased her for that. The sitting room seemed to settle around them, soft and still, with only the tick of the little clock upon the mantel. Charlotte had encouraged her to go to Lady Wetherby’s. She had listened, reassured her, and left her free to choose, never once pushing her toward anything. Elizabeth could offer her nothing less, and she would not have wished to.