“There will be no need if you see to the matter,” he answered loftily.

“I will.” Cecelia wondered, not for the first time, what her mother had seen in him, particularly now that she knew Mama had chosen him for a husband. “Papa, where did…”

He held up a hand to stop her. “If this is something to do with the estate, I have no time today.”

He never had time for matters of business. A roast of pork, on the other hand, riveted him.

“You manage it,” he added. And then even he seemed to realize that more was called for. “As you always do so well.”

“It’s not about that,” Cecelia replied. “I was wondering how you and Mama met.” How could they have, when he never went out?

Papa stared at her as if the words made no sense. Aunt Valeria looked equally startled.

“Where did you meet?” Cecelia repeated. “For the first time.”

“What in the world makes you ask such a question?” he replied.

“I want to know.” She used a tone she employed when telling her father that she would not be fobbed off, no matter how hard he tried.

“Ah, er.” He frowned. “Met.”

“First,” Cecelia repeated. Should this be so difficult to recall?

“Oh yes, the park,” he replied. “They’d sent me out to walk. Two hours till I was allowed back. Not so much as a pamphlet to read.”

Cecelia had noticed that her father and her aunt usually referred to their parents as “they.”

“I went looking for a bench in the park. Someplace out of the way. But when I found one hidden in a shrubbery, Eloisa was already there. A young lady all alone. Sobbing her heart out.”

Cecelia caught her breath. Even Aunt Valeria looked concerned.

Her father shook his head. “I said, ‘Have they thrown you out as well?’ Silly remark, but there it is. Startled her, of course.”

Cecelia tried to picture the scene. It was next to impossible. She’d never seen her cheerful mother sob.

“When she nodded, I sat down beside her.” He sounded surprised by this even now. “She asked me where I’d been thrown out of. And I said, ‘Hades.’” He glanced at Aunt Valeria, and then they both looked away. “Bit of a joke, you know.”

Or not, Cecelia thought.

“We talked,” her father continued, sounding nearly as bemused by that as Cecelia was. “Until someone came calling her name, and she ran away. It was rather like a fairy tale.”

Both his companions stared at him.

“We kept meeting there,” he said. “They were pleased with my new regimen.” He looked sourly amused. “And one day after they were gone, Eloisa called here and…” He broke off, but Cecelia knew the ending of that story. “So, that is the answer to your question,” her father finished.

“Thank you, Papa,” Cecelia said.

He seemed surprised.

In the awkward silence that followed, a footman entered and announced, “Lady Wilton.”

Cecelia’s father seized the opportunity and fled. Aunt Valeria looked as if she wanted to follow him, though she did not. As Cecelia stood to receive the visitor, she wondered if all families were a confusing mixture of irritating and heartrending.

The old lady stumped in, acknowledged Cecelia’s greeting with a nod, and sat on the sofa. “I have no time to waste on trivialities this morning,” she said. “Prince Karl has asked me to chaperone a visit to Vauxhall to which you are invited. I have agreed.”

Cecelia blinked in surprise.

“The prince tells me that he wrote to your aunt about this expedition. But she seems to have ignored the communication.” Lady Wilton glared at Aunt Valeria.