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whom one marries, one eventually discovers one is married to someone else entirely.”
         “That’s rather cynical.”
         “No, it’s rather accurate,” he said stone-faced. “Can you name a truly happy wedded couple?”
         “That’s not fair,” Arabella said. “Naturally, unhappy liaisons will garner more attention if the couple is indiscreet enough to make their differences public. No one knows the condition of someone else’s marriage except the parties involved.”
         “And their children,” she thought she heard him say. But when she cut her gaze toward him sharply, he looked away.
         “Well, I’m under no compulsion to marry, Sebastian. In fact, given my profession, it’s best if I remain unwed since the hours required for performances and rehearsals leave little time for the running of a household. And I can’t imagine exchanging singing for ordering menus and managing a staff,” she said. “But unfortunately for you, you’ll be expected to wed at some point.”
         He responded with a sound that might charitably be called a grunt.
         “I daresay you’ve been schooled on your duty to produce an heir and continue your line. The time will come when you must choose a duchess,” she said, determined for some reason to force him to admit it. “Marriage is not something you can ignore indefinitely.”
         “No, it’s not. Someday I’ll have to entrust a woman with my name and my title and my honor.” Judging strictly from his tone, Bella would have guessed Sebastian was discussing a trip to the rack instead of the altar. “I’ll have to fill a nursery with heirs and hope to heaven there isn’t a cuckoo’s egg among them.”
         “That’s rather odd. I wouldn’t have thought you’d worry about being cuckolded,” she said.
          He snorted. “There’s never any dispute about a babe’s mother, but it’s the wise child, they say, that knows his sire,” Sebastian said. “I’ll have to marry eventually, but until the time rears its ugly head and refuses further delay, let me leave it alone.”
         He dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and bolted down the hill as if he were fleeing an approaching horde of Huns.

 
    “ By all means, parade your mistress before your male friends. Inciting the envy of others is but one of her functions. However, do not, if you value your sanity, allow her the acquaintance of your relations.”
    ~ A Gentleman’s Guide to Keeping a Mistress
     

Chapter 10
     
         Despite the dour nature of its host, the house party was a merry and convivial group. Lord Granger and his fiancée were so clearly besotted with each other; their joy couldn’t help but radiate outward, covering the rest of Sebastian’s guests with residual happiness. Arabella already knew Lord Granger’s mother, the soon-to-be dowager countess once her son married, since she’d sung a recital at her home last winter to great acclaim.
         She was pleased to be accorded the status of an honored guest by Sebastian’s aunt, Lady Moorcroft, a flamboyantly dressed matron with forcefully expressed opinions to match.
         Sebastian’s sister, Lady Hermione, was a surprise because she was so unlike the duke. Where he was dark, she was light, figuratively as well as literally. A pretty blonde, she was at least fifteen years younger than Sebastian by the calendar and seemed ages younger by any other measure. Demur and sweet, her voice was rarely raised above sotto voce, and while she obviously respected her brother, there didn’t seem to be much affection between them. Though she claimed to have no talent for music, Lady Hermione was a dedicated opera lover and made it a point to include Bella in all her conversations.
         Only Lord Granger’s demeanor was a little chilly toward Arabella, but she reasoned that any man as thoroughly enamored of his fiancée as Lord Granger was would naturally be