Christopher began to intervene, certain that his grandfather would incinerate her with his response. To his astonishment, Annandale practically preened under Beatrix’s admiring regard.

“I can,” the earl allowed. “And indeed, I am seldom mistaken in my judgments.”

Audrey rolled her eyes again.

“You look a bit chilled, my lord,” Beatrix observed. “You must be sitting in a draft. One moment—” She bustled off to fetch a lap blanket, and returned to drape the soft blue wool over him.

It wasn’t the least bit cool in the room, and there couldn’t possibly have been a draft. However, Annandale received the blanket with obvious pleasure. Recalling the overheated rooms in his grandfather’s house, Christopher reflected that he probably had been chilled. How Beatrix could have guessed it was a mystery.

“Audrey,” Beatrix implored, “do let me sit next to Lord Annandale.” As if it were some coveted privilege.

“If you insist.” Audrey leaped from the settee as if she had been launched by a spring mechanism.

Before Beatrix took her place, she bent to rummage beneath the settee. Dragging out a drowsing gray cat, she settled it on Annandale’s lap. “Here you are. Nothing warms you faster than a cat in your lap. Her name is Lucky. She’ll purr if you pet her.”

The old man regarded it without expression.

And to Christopher’s astonishment, the old man began to stroke the sleek gray fur.

“This cat is missing a leg,” he remarked to Beatrix.

“Yes, I would have named her Nelson, after the one-armed admiral, but she’s female. She belonged to the cheesemaker until her foot was caught in a trap.”

“Why did you name her Lucky?” Annandale asked.

“I hoped it would change her fortunes.”

“And did it?”

“Well, she’s sitting in the lap of an earl, isn’t she?” Beatrix pointed out, and Annandale laughed outright.

He touched the cat’s remaining paw. “She is fortunate to have been to able to adapt.”

“She was determined,” Beatrix said. “You should have seen the poor thing, not long after the amputation. She kept trying to walk on the missing leg, or jump down from a chair, and she would stumble and lose her balance. But one day, she woke up and seemed to have accepted the fact that the leg was gone for good. And she became nearly as agile as before.” She added significantly, “The trick was forgetting about what she had lost . . . and learning to go on with what she had left.”

Annandale gave her a fascinated stare, his lips curving. “What a clever young woman you are.”

Christopher and Audrey glanced at each other in shared amazement, while Beatrix and Annandale launched into a rapt conversation.

“Men have always adored Beatrix,” Audrey said in an undertone, turning toward Christopher. Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Did you think your grandfather would be proof against her?”

“Yes. He doesn’t like anyone.”

“Apparently he makes exceptions for young women who flatter his vanity and appear to hang on to his every word.”

Christopher stole a glance at Beatrix’s glowing face. Of course the earl couldn’t resist her. Beatrix had a way of looking at someone with undivided attention, making him feel as if he were the most interesting person in the room.

“I’ll never understand why she hasn’t married before now,” Christopher said.

Audrey kept her voice low as she replied. “Most of the peerage view the Hathaway family as a detraction. And although most gentlemen are delighted by Beatrix, they don’t want to marry an unconventional girl. As you well know.”

Christopher frowned at the gibe. “As soon as I came to know her, I admitted I was in the wrong.”

“That is to your credit,” Audrey said. “I didn’t think you could ever view her without prejudice. In the past, there have been more than a few men who were quite taken with Beatrix, but they did not pursue her. Mr. Chickering, for example. He absolutely begged his father to be allowed to court her, but his father threatened to cut him off. And so he has had to content himself with adoring Beatrix from afar, and flirting madly with her at every opportunity, knowing it will come to naught.”

“Those days are over,” Christopher said. “If he ever comes near her again . . .”

Audrey grinned. “Careful. Jealousy is quite unfashionable these days. One must have the sophistication to be amused by the attentions paid to one’s wife.”

“I’ll take great amusement in tossing him through the window.” Christopher paused as Audrey laughed. Clearly she thought he was jesting. Deciding to change the subject, he said, “I’m glad to see you’re out in society again.” He meant it. Audrey had spent nearly her entire marriage taking care of John, who had been diagnosed with consumption soon after their wedding. That, combined with the mourning period, had made it a lengthy and lonely ordeal for her. She deserved to find some enjoyment in life, and most definitely some companionship. “Are there any gentlemen you’ve taken a liking to?”

Audrey made a face. “You mean the ones my brothers haven’t managed to frighten off? No, there’s no one who appeals to me in that way. I’m sure I could have my choice of nearly any fortune hunter in London, in light of my generous jointure. But it counts against me that I’m barren.”

Christopher looked at her alertly. “Are you? How do you know?”