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of the refusal?” she said.
    “Yes.”
    “Then, your grace, in this small list of knowable things, we are of equal understanding.”
    “As you say, it is a small list. Hardly enough to comprise a man,” Calbourne said calmly.
    “But, your grace, this small list is all that matters to me. I do not care to know more.”
    “Now, Lady Dalby, that I cannot believe for it is well known that you are a woman of rare energy and imagination,” he said, his voice slipping down seductively. “Surely, in knowing more, you would increase your odds of winning.”
    “You want me to win?”
    “I want him to win,” he said.
    “Even if it goes against his own schemes?” she said, turning to face him slightly.
    “Even so,” he said, taking her hand in his and raising it to his mouth. He brushed the lightest of kisses upon her gloved hand, his breath warming her skin. Sophia smiled. “Are you not working against your daughter’s schemes for her own good?”
    “Your grace, I like you better and better, and I liked you well enough from the start.”
    Calbourne grinned and kissed the tips of her fingers before releasing her hand.
    “Then Countess Dalby, we all win.”

Ten
    “NOW, Anne, throw off every polite and practical instinct you possess and tell me the truth. Do you have any interest at all in a proposal of marriage from Lord Staverton?”
    Anne looked into Sophia’s black eyes and felt every shred of common sense tumble off her and land on the carpeted floor.
    “No. I don’t. I’m a fool.”
    “A fool is someone who doesn’t know her own mind. You are hardly a fool,” Sophia said. “Now Caro, she might be a fool yet. All this courtesan idiocy. Only a fool, a fool with a good roof over her and healthy food in her, would talk so ridiculously.”
    “Thank you, Mother,” Caro said sarcastically.
    The evening had waned into morning and still the party roared with energy. True, Lord Dutton was drunk and snoring by the fire, but if one discounted snoring drunks at a party, it could hardly be counted as a party at all, at least according to Lady Dalby. Anne had learned to pay attention to what Lady Dalby said about things and events and people. Lady Dalby saw things that other people didn’t. Lady Dalby was shrewd, and that was the least of it.
    “You are certain?” Sophia asked her. “It would be a good match. He’s ridiculously wealthy and sweetly generous, and he would make you a viscountess.”
    “Mother, he’s ancient and has that … eye,” Caro said. “Anne is a beautiful young woman in her prime. It’s a ridiculous match.”
    Sophia cast a dark look in her daughter’s direction. “For a woman who’s announced her intention to be a courtesan, you are remarkably ill-informed. And spoilt. I’d begun to wonder if it might do you some good,” she said softly. “This latest remark quite decides it.”
    “If you think I should marry the viscount, of course I will,” Anne said. She couldn’t stay with Caro forever, especially if Caro actually pursued a courtesan’s life. Unless she pursued it at her side. The thought niggled into her heart and settled there, coldly and heavily.
    “I would never presume to tell you what to do, Anne,” Sophia said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I only feel it is my duty to point out a good match when I see one. It is your choice to make, as it is your life to live. You have a home with me for as long as you wish it, even after Caro moves out to pursue her life’s goal.”
    “Excuse me?” Caro said. “Move out?”
    “Well, I can hardly have a known courtesan living under my roof, can I?” Sophia said. “Think what it would do to my reputation.”
    “Mother, you can’t mean to say that you would … throw me out to make my way on, on the streets, do you? Would you?” Caro said, her elegant features wreathed in shock and disbelief.
    “Darling, just where do you think a courtesan begins, if not on the streets?” Sophia said sweetly. But there was iron beneath