Sabrina was getting on with her life. She found that if she could keep Duncan out of her mind, she could even laugh again when she felt like it. Of course, it didn’t take much for a spurt of tears to sneak up on her either, but for the most part, she managed to appear her old self as she went about her normal routines.

There had been one exception when poor Robert Willison had stopped to talk to her on her trek through Oxbow and had been treated to one of her spurts. He’d been so upset when she burst into tears in front of him that he’d gone off to fetch three of his neighbors to help.

By the time everyone converged on her, though, she had her emotions back in hand and had blamed the tears on a speck of dust that was bothering her eye, and reminded her audience that a good cry was the best way to wash one’s eyes. They’d looked at her as if she were daft, but then, people often did look at her that way when she got into one of her silly moods, so that was nothing out of the ordinary.

Her aunts had decided she was “recovered” as well, though it had never been discussed just what her malady was. They knew it had to do with Duncan, but by unspoken agreement, they weren’t going to badger her about it. It did come up occasionally, though. How could it not when Duncan’s wedding was still the major topic of the neighborhood, and so it was hard not to mention it?

But they were back to thinking of other gentlemen who might “do” for her, and just last night when they were gathered in the parlor together after dinner, Alice mentioned a newcomer to the neighborhood.

“Sir Albert Shinwell is his name. He’s building a manor house on the other side of Oxbow near that lovely meadow there. I heard he’s just come into an unexpected inheritance, and decided on Oxbow for his country retreat.”

Hilary nodded, adding, “People do tend to spend a lot of money when it’s new money. Odd, that, but it happens all the time.”

“I’ve heard he’s also building in Bath and in Portsmouth. Sounds like it was quite a big inheritance.”

“He’s not married, nor ever has been,” Hilary put in. “That has been confirmed.”

“And he’s young,” Alice thought to add. “Not quite thirty yet.”

Sabrina had no trouble figuring out where the conversation was heading by then. “I’ll get around to meeting him, just do not bring him here to meet me.”

“We wouldn’t do that, dear, at least wouldn’t,” Hilary assured her.

“Which implies I would?” Alice huffed. “I’m not so insensitive to not realize that our gel is not happy over the big wedding next week.”

“No, just insensitive enough to mention it,” Hilary shot back with a snort.

Sabrina stood up to get their attention off of bickering before they seriously got into it, and back on her. “It’s all right. You don’t have to tiptoe around me on this subject. It’s true, like Aunt Hilary, I thought something more than just friendship might be occurring between Duncan and me, but I was mistaken. I will get over it. It was more a surprise than anything else, his reengagement to Ophelia, which I am recovered from. Really, I am fine.”

She left them before she belied that statement with a quivering lip, but the two sisters looked at each other and both knew better.

“She’s lying.” Hilary sighed. “She’s still quite devastated.”

“I know.” Alice’s sigh was a bit louder. “I’d like to take a club to—”

“So would I,” Hilary cut in. “But what would that help? It’s not as if any gel would have a hope of competing with someone like Ophelia, not even one as wonderful as our Sabrina, when men can be such blind idiots.”

Alice might have giggled at that, if they both weren’t rather despondent over the subject themselves. “Not that it signifies, but it’s just as well, if you ask me. I wasn’t looking forward to being condescended to by that old coot Neville again, if we actually ended up related to him by marriage. He made his sentiments perfectly clear, back when the scandal first broke in our day, that he wanted nothing more to do with our family.”

“I’m not so sure it was just that,” Hilary replied thoughtfully. “He made a remark to me at the party that led me to think it was more that he was disgusted over what our grandfather did, rather than that a scandal had come of it. He was chummy with him, after all. At least, they used to go hunting together all the time.”

“What remark?”

“He asked me if idiocy still ran in the family,’ Hilary replied.

Alice flushed with heated ire that was reflected in her tone as she blustered, “Why, that hypocrite! Who was it let his daughter go off and many a Highlander, then bemoaned that fact forever after? That was idiocy.”

Hilary shook her head. “That was a circumstance that couldn’t be helped after she went and fell in love with the man. What he should have done was kept them from meeting in the first place.”

“You snubbed him, I hope,” Alice replied, still indignant.

“Of course. But after thinking about it, I was sure he was merely referring to Grandfather shooting himself, which, you’ll have to admit, has been our own opinion from time to time.”

“Oh, well, all water under the bridge, as it were,” Alice said, then went on to a new complaint. “But you never should have encouraged Sabrina into thinking she had a chance with young Duncan. It’s not as if Neville would have allowed a match between them.”

“Encourage how?” Hilary glared at her sister. “I have eyes, you know. It was quite obvious the boy was taken with her, though as it turns out, it was merely her friendship that he cherished,” she added with a sigh.

“Can’t blame him for that,” Alice replied. “She is a joy to be around.”

“Of course she is. However, you’re wrong in thinking Neville would have objected due to the scandal. He wouldn’t have liked it, but from what I’ve gathered, he just wants a new heir, and quickly. With such haste involved, they can’t exactly afford to be hoity-toity about it.”

“Sure they can,” Alice disagreed. “That was the point of the gathering. Duncan had more gels to choose from than he needed, and look what happened. He ended up choosing the very one that Neville wanted for him.”

“But did he choose her?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know Mary Petty’s daughter who is an upstairs maid at Summers Glade? I spoke with her this morning at the cobbler’s. She says her daughter told her that no one at Summers Glade is happy about the upcoming wedding, least of all the bride and the groom.”

“Neither of them?”

“That’s what she said.”

“Well, that doesn’t make sense. Why are they getting married then?”

Hilary just raised a supercilious brow that had Alice snorting. “Nonsense. Not a breath of scandal has been hinted at—”

“Exactly,” Hilary cut in with a smirk. “Forced marriages usually occur to nip a scandal in the bud before it has a chance to get started.”

“A groundless assumption in this case,” Alice noted. “You are merely guessing.”

“Common sense—”

Alice cut in, “Who says you have any?”

“Humph, talking to you is like talking to a doorknob,” Hilary complained.

“Implying?”

“That you can turn the knob, but you still haven’t sense enough to open the door.”

“Or more than enough sense to know that there is nothing on the other side of the door worth seeing,” Alice shot back triumphantly.

Hilary conceded. That was a rather nice comeback, after all, and though she’d never say so, she was proud of her sister for thinking of it.