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pensive,” Lord Swanley said. “Would it be impolite to ask what you’re thinking?”
    What a refreshing change—a gentleman who considered her feelings. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes—wasn’t that how Elizabeth told her to do it? “That your parents are wonderful hosts to bring in music and make this such a special evening.”
    He nodded, grinning down at her, his black hair falling across his forehead. “They do enjoy a party. And now that my sister is of age, it gives them even more reason to introduce her—”
    “And to introduce you?” she interrupted, smiling.
    He laughed. “Yes, and me, to other young people in a more personal setting.”
    “Lord Swanley, I do believe you must have no problem yourself in that regard.”
    He cleared his throat and looked abashed—she found him just adorable.
    “I am not so much a fool that I believe my charming personality alone makes me attractive to young ladies,” he said wryly. “I am heir to a marquisate, and there are some who care more for that than anything else.”
    “I understand,” she murmured, taking another sip of champagne. “I am cousin to a duke. It is an inducement to some.”
    He nodded. “So I’ve decided to leave it up to my parents.”
    She coughed for a moment, covering her mouth. “Excuse me?”
    “Since I can never fully trust a lady’s motives, I’ve decided that they have my best interests at heart. I’m certain whoever they choose will make me perfectly happy—make both of our families happy. And until then, I’m free to enjoy my youth without the pressure of looking for a suitable match.”
    “How very wise,” she murmured.
    What he said was true of many people, of course, both men and women, who often had no choice in their marriage. But usually these beleaguered souls . . . struggled a bit against their fate. Not Lord Swanley, she thought ruefully. She couldn’t imagine so blindly accepting another’s choice. This was her life—she would have her say.
    When he bowed and took his leave, promising another dance later, she watched him go, feeling melancholy. She wasn’t sure that such a man actually had a will of his own.
    Or perhaps he just hadn’t met a woman worth fighting for, she told herself.
    “Miss Leland, I trust you’re enjoying yourself?”
    Susanna turned to find Lord Greenwich standing beside her, offering another glass of champagne. Strangely, hers was empty, so she gladly accepted.
    “The evening is lovely, my lord,” she said, knowing it the truth even if she only meant the weather.
    “I saw you speaking with Swanley. A good man,” Lord Greenwich said.
    “I didn’t know him well before this house party, but I’d have to agree with you.”
    “Concentrate on someone like him—not Wade.”
    Jolted, Susanna took another sip of champagne and raised wide, innocent eyes to the earl. “Mr. Wade? Why would you mention—”
    “Miss Leland, you are an innocent. Wade is paying too much attention to you.”
    “But . . . is that not what a young lady wants, a suitor?”
    “Wade is no one’s idea of a suitor,” he said darkly.
    “Why, my lord? I have heard rumors, of course, but that is gossip. How can one tell what is true or not?”
    “What is true is that involvement with him can harm a young lady’s reputation.”
    He must have seen something in her face because he quickly added, “Not that anyone believes so of you, Miss Leland.”
    She calmed her suddenly racing heart. It wouldn’t do for people to think she and Mr. Wade were an item.
    “I am speaking of another young lady altogether,” Lord Greenwich insisted.
    “Just one in particular? And you’re saying this is not a rumor?”
    He looked about as if for eavesdroppers, then lowered his voice. “One young lady was a flirtatious girl, given to dancing and socializing, but not in an inappropriate manner—until she was caught up with Mr. Wade. She spent too much time in his company. Alone, ” he emphasized. “Soon she