A Marriageable Miss by DOROTHY ELBURY

benefits of the close friendship that had developed between his two older cousins and, although they had both done their best to incorporate the little boy into many of their juvenile adventures, the wide age gap had proved a considerable disadvantage. By the time the eight-year-old Charles was packed off to join his cousins at school in Rugby, the older two were already seniors and disinclined to hang around with a fresher. Added to which, they had both left Cambridge even before Charles had sat the entrance examination—Richard to join his father’s regiment in Spain and Simon having been sent down for unspecified behaviour in regard to the dean’s two teenage daughters.
    Having learned that Charles, following the death of his father, the Very Reverend Andrew Standish, had renewed his acquaintanceship with the late Simon and had joined in a good many ofthat young man’s nefarious activities, it had come as no surprise to Richard to discover that the real reason his young cousin spent far more time in the capital than he did at his country estate was due to his rather unhealthy addiction to gambling. Apart from which, it would seem that—probably as a result of his having been encumbered with the excessive demands of an habitually ailing mother since shortly after his twenty-first birthday—the young man had developed into something of a misogamist. Whilst it was true that he engaged in mild flirtations and had the usual number of extraneous affairs—in much the same way that Richard had run his life before the meeting with Giles Wheatley had threatened to overset his carefully laid plans—it seemed that Standish always went to extreme lengths to avoid having his name linked to any one female in particular.
    Thanking Providence that he still had sufficient nous to retain some control over his life, Richard leaned across and poured his cousin another drink.

Chapter Seven

    ‘A nd now, your Grace, you must allow me to present Miss Helena Wheatley,’ came Lady Isobel’s ringing tones.
    Helena, dipping her curtsy for the umpteenth time, had lost count of the number of dukes, marquises, earls, generals and the like—along with their respective ladies—to whom she had already been presented that evening. Fortunately, however, it was becoming apparent that the crush of people making their way up the grand staircase towards the receiving line was, at last, beginning to show some sign of lessening. Having been standing at the countess’s side for well over an hour without a moment’s pause, she found herself marvelling at the older woman’s remarkable fortitude, since the suffocating heat from the multitude of candelabra all around them was beginning to cause her own head to ache quite abominably. A swift glance to her left informed her that Lizzie, too, was looking rather drained. She managed to flash her cousin a quick smile of encouragement but, suddenly catching sight of Markfield’s eyes on her, a soft flush rose in her cheeks and she at once resumed her former position.
    He, having spent the best part of the afternoon trying to juggle his rapidly depleting finances in order to accommodate at least some of the waiting tradesmen, had been so preoccupied with his task that he had failed to notice the passage of time and, asa result, had arrived at Cadogan Place several minutes past the appointed hour.
    Helena and Lottie, their evening cloaks in place, had been ready and waiting for some time. Having gone out into the hall to check the dial on the long-case clock for the third time, Helena, refusing to consider the possibility that the earl might fail to keep the appointment, had begun to wonder if she could have misunderstood his instructions.
    Although he had apologised most profusely for having kept them both waiting, Richard’s mind was still too full of his own troubles to pay any great attention to Helena’s appearance and, thankful that they had, at least, had the foresight to don their cloaks in readiness