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“You make me sound like a hypocritical prig.”

He waited.

“To be honest, I’m curious,” Stella confessed. “I have read about the Egyptians, and I would love to see that crown up close.”

“Curiosity isn’t priggish. My mother took a deep dive into Egyptiana when the craze hit. She sprinkled Sun God scarabs all over the house, supposedly for good luck. Do you know what a scarab is?”

Stella nodded.

“My mother commissioned scarabs in the form of a brooch for each of my sisters, the insect’s body decorated with a large emerald. She was curious about the scarabs’ positive influence, so she wanted them worn at all times.”

Stella chuckled. “I am imagining a bulbous emerald brooch. Did your sisters agree?”

Silvester glanced at her, unsettled by how much her deep chuckle pleased him. “No. Pansy began wearing a cross to counter the Sun God’s influence. My mother was frightfully disappointed: she complained that she alone wearing the scarab wasn’t a large enough sample to prove or disprove the promise of good luck.”

Stella laughed. It was the first laugh of hers he’d heard, and it was a good one, clear and joyful, not high and tinkling. “Did Her Grace experience good luck?”

“It’s difficult to know. She tumbled down the hill while skiing. Pansy attributed that to not wearing a cross, while my mother insisted that she would have broken her neck had she not worn the scarab.”

“What is skiing?” Stella asked, her eyes alight with interest.

“A practice my father brought back from a visit to Norway. We strap long pieces of wood called skis to our boots and slide down hills in the country.”

“It sounds marvelous!”

“You must try it,” Silvester said, just catching himself before issuing an invitation. One did not invite an eligible young lady to one’s country house unless a proposal was imminent, and obviously, it wasn’t.

“I couldn’t,” Stella said.

He frowned at her.

“My spectacles get horridly foggy when it’s cold outside. I’ve tried skating but I bump into people.”

“I understand,” Silvester said. “One mostly falls over, anyway.”

“I already know how to do that!” Stella said with another deep chuckle.

“You are not clumsy,” Silvester said. “You dance extremely well, Stella.”

“Nonsense!”

“Allow me to disagree.”

“Only when you aren’t being foolish.”

He laughed at that. “I’m not foolish. Do you know how many ladies trod on their partners’ toes? Whereas I have had the pleasure of waltzing with you several times, and you follow me perfectly.”

“In a waltz, I can trust my partner to whirl me about rather than having to guess where we’re going, or how close the other couples are.” She grinned at him. “The waltz is the only dance I truly enjoy.”

Silvester had a sudden memory of curling his arm around Stella and holding her tightly to him as they whirled into a waltz. He would be very sorry not to partner her again.

“Do you still hate me so much that we can’t waltz together?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Promise that you won’t say mean things about me in the vicinity of Blanche Boodle or Lady Lydia.”

“I’m horrified that I ever said anything unkind about you,” he said evenly. “I will never do so again.”

They drew up in front of Lambeth Palace, and Binder dashed around to the horses’ heads.