Chapter 1

“Based upon our respective financial situations, our mutually agreeable political interests, and the general compatibility of our persons,” Lydia Hope-Wallace said, “it seems to both our advantages that we unite in holy matrimony.”

Her voice shook only a trifle, which was a notable improvement.

Her friend Georgiana Cleeve gazed at her from across the post-chaise, expression impassive. Bacon, Georgiana’s dog, gave Lydia a sympathetic moan from his position on Georgiana’s lap.

Lydia winced. “Too wordy?” She fiddled with her sheaf of papers, trying not to look at her notes. Again. “I was afraid of that. Perhaps there is some way I can compress the language of the third clause—”

“I am not certain thelanguage is the problem.”

“Perhaps not.” Lydia chewed on her lower lip and stared blearily down at the papers in her lap, draft after penciled draft of marriage proposals in her own hand.

Marriage proposals. To a man she had never met.

It turned out it was rather difficult to get such a thing right.

She pulled out the pencil she’d stuffed into her coiffure and scratched out a hasty revision. “How about this:Based upon the mutual benefits conferred by a legal union—”

“Mutual benefits? Lydia, you are the third-richest unmarried heiress in London. The benefits are all Strathrannoch’s.”

“Second-richest, I think.” Lydia frowned and drew a line throughcompatibility of our persons, which suddenly struck her as a bit indecent. “Hannah Harvey got engaged last week to that fellow in tin from Birmingham.”

She drew a line throughmutual benefits as well, for the sake of caution.

Georgiana cleared her throat, and Lydia redirected her gaze to her friend’s finely drawn, deceptively innocent face.

“Perhaps,” Georgiana said—as though she had not said it half a dozen times in the last week—“we might consider a social call on Lord Strathrannoch first. You might discuss your ‘mutual interests.’”

Lydia clenched her teeth. Her heart beat harder in her chest, as it did every time Georgiana proposed an alteration in their plan. “No.”

“I can ask for a tour of his castle. You can take tea in his parlor. And then we can return to Dunkeld for the evening.”

They had left the posting inn in Dunkeld that morning to set off for Strathrannoch Castle. It had taken quite a bit of coin to persuade the postilion to take themaway from Perth and Dundee, rather thantoward those centers of civilization—a fact that had given Lydia a moment of pause—but the farther afield they traveled, the more the view out the hazed glass soothed something inside her. Softened the sp