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he wanted to prove to George. And to me. He invited me to drive with him, you know.”
    “It sounds like a complicated situation,” Charlie said.
    “Oh, in my experience male pride always complicates things.” Lady Isabella rolled her eyes. “And William had more than his fair share of it. I believe he resented the fact that George was the more athletic of the two. A better fencer, better with horses, and a better driver, too. William didn’t like it. After all, he was the elder. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
    For a moment, the two girls sat in silence, shaking their heads at the general strangeness of men.
    “In the village back at home, there was a young man—I don’t think you would call him a gentleman—there was a young man who believed he was more apt at dealing with wild boars,” Charlie offered. “He sprouted things like how God had created Man to deal with dangerous beasts and protect the women and children. I mean, really, have you read anywhere in the Bible that God ever said to Moses or Abraham or to any of the prophets, ‘Only thou shalt fight against the wild animals of the forest’? He was lucky the only part of his that the boar managed to rip open when he climbed up on that tree was his—” Charlie frowned and searched for a polite euphemism. “Well, that part of his body he usually sits upon. Not that he sat upon it much after that particular episode. Oh no, not for a long time!”
    She became aware that Lady Isabella was staring at her in a most peculiar fashion, which made her wonder whether she had committed another faux pas and whether wild boars were deemed an unsuitable topic in London society. She hadn’t seen any wild boars since her arrival, so perhaps they were considered unworthy of being talked about. Which was entirely unfair when they presented such a problem in other parts of the country.
    Nevertheless, Charlie decided it was wiser to turn the conversation back to the original topic. “So, your brother—George?—is a good driver?”
    Lady Isabella blinked. “One of the best,” she said slowly and not without pride. “Have you heard of the Four-in-Hand club?—No? It is one of the dashier gentlemen’s clubs. George should have been a member; perhaps he would have become a member if…” Lady Isabella swallowed. “If it had not been for the accident.”
    Lines of strain bracketed her mouth, and impulsively, Charlie once again reached out to touch her hand. “What happened?” she asked.
    The other girl sniffed inelegantly. “One day George came to a family dinner—sometimes he does, even though he lives at the Albany…”
    Charlie nodded, even though she had never heard of this Albany before. Was it a foreign country? But surely Lady Isabella couldn’t mean that her brother lived in a foreign country! Casually coming to dinner would be a rather awkward affair in that case!
    “So he came to dinner that evening and couldn’t stop talking about that new phaeton he had bought. My father and William did not approve, of course,” Lady Isabella added with a sigh. “They thought George nothing but an idle buck around Town.”
    What a mean-spirited thing, to take one’s father’s against one’s brother! Charlie didn’t think she liked the sound of this brother William.
    “So George said that driving such a carriage was an art. At which William said that everybody could do it. I…” Lady Isabella frowned. “I think I must have giggled or have made some such other sound of amusement. In any case, it made William furious. He rounded on me, told me how disappointed he was that his only sister’s head could be turned by such trivial nonsense.”
    That clinched the matter: Brother William, Charlie decided, had been a mean, knavish churl. Not just siding against his own brother, but being nasty to his sister, too! And a sweeter girl Charlie had rarely met.
    “I believe it was at this point that he got up from the table and ordered a footman to have George’s