And so it was that after much wheedling and a great deal of moaning Catherine managed to convince Lord Glenarvon that they should throw a ball at Castle Fen in honor of Peter and Anne's engagement.

Given that the engagement would remain a secret for some years yet, Catherine determined that only her family would know the true reason for the ball. Everyone else would simply think that it was just another party. Anne deserved her day in the light after everything that had happened, even if she was the only one who knew she was being celebrated.

The date was set for a month from Saturday–just enough time for Catherine to plan everything. She would have to work quickly, but the great deal of servants and helpers at Castle Fen made the job almost easy.

The housekeeper Mrs. Fairfax turned out to be quite the great party aid. She claimed to have helped the late marchioness with all of her balls, and after seeing Mrs. Fairfax in action, Catherine did not doubt her.

Faster than Catherine had imagined, everything was set. New tapers were purchased, and special gold cloth was ordered direct from London. This would be an affair that no one would soon forget.

Now all that Catherine had left to do was decide upon the guest list. Some attendees were obvious: of course Anne was invited, as was the rest of the Edmonson family. Catherine even wrote in a little note that Lydia might attend if she promised to go up to bed very early in the night. A strange compromise, to be sure, but Lydia would be pleased to attend a ball at all. Catherine would prepare a room for Lydia next to her own, and she would bring her back to the Edmonson residence the next afternoon. This was all easy to design, and it gave Catherine great pleasure to think of her family all together in her new home.

Other decisions were not so easy. What to do with Peter Wynn? Glenarvon had already spoken to his connections at Oxford, and Peter's acceptance was all but official. At this point, he was an Oxford man. Did that mean she could invite him? It might seem a bit strange, but he was going to a good school, and was at least a bit trained in the social niceties expected at a gathering such a this.

A ball atCatherine’s own home was perhaps the most controlled environment in which to introduce Peter to society. That was a huge point in favor of inviting him.

Catherine nodded her head decidedly. She would invite him. Glenarvon could style Peter as his protégé, and no mention of his farming days need pass anyone's lips.

With that settled, Catherine moved down the list of her problematic guests. Only one decision left to make: to invite Lord Daventry or no?

She rolled her eyes heavenward. It seemed ridiculous to her that she was even had to consider leaving him off the list. After all, he was their nearest neighbor, and his lifelong connection with her husband was well known. But of course, Glenarvon was the real problem here. His stubborn-headed, teeth-gratingly poor attitude about Lord Daventry gave Catherine pause. If she invited Lord Daventry, the marquess might very well sulk in the corner all evening. If she didn't, the snub might cause a scandal that would overshadow the entire party.

Finally, she wrote Lord Daventry's name down on the guest list. To hell with her pouting devil of a husband! If he wanted to be difficult, he could do so on his own time. Catherine did not wish to snub a perfectly good man for no reason other than that Glenarvon held some silly little childhood grudge against him. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Catherine finished Lord Daventry's name with a flourish.

The invitations went out later that night. Within a week, everyone had replied that they would be in attendance.

It was going to be a very exciting night, indeed.

* * *

Catherine purchased a beautiful dress for the occasion. It was brighter than she normally wore. Purple. But somehow, the rich hue made her feel special, like a true marchioness.

Checking her reflection in the mirror one last time, she descended the staircase to begin greeting her guests.

Slowly, they all trickled in, dressed in their finest. As Anne was still staying at Castle Fen, she provided much-needed hostess relief for Catherine. Whenever the marchioness was not around, Anne was there to mercifully fill her place.

The tables were laden with food: little petite fours and other delights, as well as the most delectable savory puffs Catherine had ever tasted. The punch was strong and free-flowing, and within an hour, everyone was perhaps a bit drunker than they had originally planned on becoming.

Surveying the room, Catherine was pleased. Everything was just as it should be. Her guests were happy and full of laughter. She hoped she would have time for a quick waltz sometime in the night, but she knew that her duties as hostess came first. Thank goodness she had Anne to help her.

Currently, her eldest sister was holding court with Lydia and their parents. Lady Edmonson waved at Catherine as she caught her eye, then held Lydia back as the girl prepared to run across the room. Catherine pulled a face of mock concern, waggling her finger at her younger sister.

Standing in the center of a group of people, Glenarvon actually seemed to be making an effort to be a good host. He finished his sentence and everyone around him laughed. At first, the marquess seemed surprised at the reaction he had elicited, but then his eyes crinkled into a smile of his own. Catherine bit her lip, taking in her husband's wicked lips and broad shoulders. Tonight, he seemed the most handsome man in the room to her.

The marquess was quixotic and strange, to be sure. His moods changed so suddenly, and he had a darkness inside him that always seemed very close to the surface, even when he was laughing. He had a kindness in him, however. After all, he had done Anne and Peter a great service, and nothing could make Catherine happier than seeing her sister in love.

So tonight, Catherine reveled in her husband, and was pleased to leave him undisturbed. Later, when everyone had left, she would have him all to herself. Then, the real party would start.

Catherine's eyes lit on poor Peter, who was standing awkwardly to the side of a group of people. Earlier, Glenarvon had introduced Peter to all the best individuals, and for the most part, it had gone quite well. When he dressed up, there was no reason to suspect that Peter was a farmer. His manners were not quite up to snuff, but people seemed to find that charming rather than off-putting.

Hurrying to Peter's side, Catherine quickly swept him away from his awkward position.

"My dearest Mr. Wynn," she said. "How has your night gone since we last spoke?"

Peter smiled gratefully. "It’s gone well, and I do think it shall be better now that you are here. I must say that I am a bit hesitant to join conversations..."

"If you have been introduced already, then it should be no great problem," said Catherine. "It's a party. Half the people here won't remember anything tomorrow, I dare say."

"That is a relief to hear," said Peter. Then, he smiled. "Speaking of introductions, Lord Glenarvon officially introduced me to Anne just half an hour ago. I am on her dance card for later tonight."

Catherine chuckled. "Setting the stage, so to speak," she said.

"Setting the stage for what?" Lord Daventry asked curiously, walking up to Catherine and Peter.

"Oh, Lord Daventry!" exclaimed Catherine. "I wondered when I would see you tonight."

"Forgive me for my late entry," said Daventry. "I was delayed in town on business and have only just arrived. You are the first person I came to see, of course. One must always pay due to the hostess." He inclined his head appreciatively.

"Thank you, Lord Daventry," replied Catherine. Waving her hand, she indicated Peter. "Have you been introduced to Mr. Wynn?"

"I don't believe I have."

"He is a new friend of Lord Glenarvon's, set to attend Oxford next term. Of course, Lord Glenarvon is always happy to extend friendship to a fellow Oxford man, so we have taken him under our wing for the time being. Mr. Wynn, this is Lord Daventry, of the estate nearest Castle Fen."

"I've known Glenarvon since birth, at least," said Lord Daventry with a wry wink. "And I attended Oxford with the man, so I can attest to his love for the school."

"Duly noted," smiled Mr. Wynn.

Daventry's eyes narrowed slightly. "If you don't mind me saying, you seem to be starting a bit later than most."

In a panic, Catherine started to speak, but Peter was blessedly prepared. "A death in the family, I am afraid, prevented me from attending for a few years. Family duty, you know. But now I find myself with ample time for education, and it seemed the thing to do."

"I'm sorry to hear about your loss," said Lord Daventry, frowning. "Your name is 'Wynn,' did you say? Where are you from?"

"Oh, from not too far off..." said Mr. Wynn, vaguely.

"Surely I must have met some of your people before. I have traveled all over England. Tell me, who was your father?"

Catherine jumped in. "Lord Daventry, would you care to escort me to the punch bowl? I am parched, but I do not wish to go alone. People will mob me! Please, keep me safe, for my own sanity." She turned to Mr. Wynn. "You do not mind, Mr. Wynn? It seems that you are wanted over there." She waved her hand in the general direction of Lord Glenarvon.

"I would be pleased to escort you to the punch bowl," said Daventry, hiding a wicked grin. "I have heard only good things about the drink."

"Then it is settled," replied Catherine.

Daventry offered her his arm, and she quickly accepted it, pulling Daventry away from Mr. Wynn as fast as she could.