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Eleanor felt as if the air actually burned her lungs "I shall probably--"

"Just when are you planning to e twenty-five, or thirty? Who will marry you when you’re that old, Eleanor? You may be beautiful, but if you don’t make an effort, no one will notice In my experience,"You aren’t wearing even a touch of face paint, are you?"

"No," Eleanor said "None" Of course she wanted children And a husband It was just that she wanted Gideon’s children She was a fool Seven times a fool Gideon was not hers, and that meant his children wouldn’t be either How on earth had the years passed so quickly?

"I am not finished," her sister added "There’s not a bit of your boso they’re practically dragging in the mud But it’s your attitude that really matters You look like a prude, and you jest and poke at men They don’t like it, Eleanor They flee in the other direction, and why shouldn’t they?"

"No reason" Eleanor resorted to praying that Anne would run out of words, though she saw no sign of it

"Everyone thinks you’re a snob," her sister said flatly "All of London knows that you swore not to marry anyone below the rank of a duke--and they don’t think well of you for it At least the ible "

"I merely intended--"

"But now there’s a duke on theher "The Duke of Villiers, no less Rich as Croesus and apparently just as snobbish as you are, since everyone says he’s intent on hter That’s you, Eleanor You I’m married, Elizabeth is still in the nursery, and there isn’t another eligible lady of our rank in London"

"I realize that fact"

"You’re the one who announced that you’d marry no one below the order of a duke," Anne continued, scarcely pausing for breath "You said there were no eligible dukes and then one appeared likeyou--"

"I don’t see anything particular to celebrate in that," Eleanor retorted "Those same people describe Villiers as quite unpleasant"

"You said you’d marry no one but a duke," her sister repeated stubbornly, "and now there’s one fallen into your hand like a ripe plum It wouldn’t matter if the duke were as broken down as a cart horse, or so you always said"

Eleanor opened her mouth and then realized with so just behind her sister’s shoulder

"Reht? You told Aunt Petunia that you’dhair if he had the right title, but no one below a duke"

Eleanor had never met the Duke of Villiers; nay, she had never even seen Villiers, but she had no doubt but that she was facing him now He was precisely as described, with the kind of jaw and cheekbones that wavered between brutish and beautiful By all accounts, Villiers never wore a wig, and this man didn’t even wear powder His black hair was shot with two or three brilliant streaks of white and tied back at the neck It couldn’t be anyone else

Her sister just kept going, with the relentless quality of a bad dream "You said that you would marry a duke over another man, even if he were as stupid as Oyster and as fat as Mr Hendicker’s sow"