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be true, but I tire of Father and Mother’s criticism of me.”

“Some of it is of your own making,” he said, giving her a knowing look. “You need to stop goading Mother.”

Marianne frowned. “It is nearly impossible to live up to the expectations she has set in place for me.”

“I doubt that to be true.”

“You are the firstborn, the precious heir,” she mocked. “I have no purpose in this family other than to honor our family’s legacy by marrying well.”

“That is not true.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Did you not forget that Father intends to marry me off once I am out of mourning?” she asked. “He even doubts my ability to find a worthy suitor.”

“Do not give up hope yet,” he said. “I still intend to speak to Father about that.”

“It won’t do much good. We both know he can be rather stubborn at times.”

“Father did relent on me,” Martin remarked. “He gave me a month to find a bride of my choosing.”

“That is because you are their favorite.”

“Mother and Father do not have a favorite child.”

Marianne huffed as she tossed her hands into the air. “That is precisely what the favorite child would say.”

Martin grinned. “Perhaps you should put that in your book.”

“Oh, believe me, I will,” Marianne said. “I find that my life has more than enough material to fill a manuscript.”

“Pardon me if I do not find that to be true.”

“The life of a neglected lady,” Marianne sighed dramatically.

“You are far from being neglected.”

“Wouldn’t that be grand if I was?” she asked with a wry smile. “I could come and go as I please, and Mother wouldn’t expect me to spend hours practicing the pianoforte.”

“Some people enjoy playing the pianoforte.”

“Mother has managed to take all the fun out of it and has left me with a desire to throw it out a window.”

“I daresay it is much too heavy for you to even attempt to lift it.”

“I know,” she replied. “That is the only reason I haven’t done it yet.”

“You are being much too hard on Mother, especially since she has raised you to be an accomplished lady.”

Moreland stepped into the room and announced, “The coach is waiting out front, milord.”

“Thank you, Moreland,” Martin acknowledged before turning back towards his sister. “Do try and behave over dinner this evening.”

“I shall, but only because I do not feel like being lectured by Mother or Father,” Marianne said.

Martin kissed her on the cheek. “One day, you will learn that life is much more tolerable if you keep the peace.”

“But where is the fun in that?” Marianne questioned.

Martin chuckled. “I fear that you are past hope, dear sister.”

“Give my regards to Hannah.”

“I shall.”

Martin exited the townhouse and stepped into the awaiting coach. As it jerked forward, he found himself smiling at his sister’s antics. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew she would not take kindly to Father arranging a marriage for her, no matter how advantageous it was.

It wasn’t long before the coach came to a stop in front of Lord and Lady Berkshire’s townhouse. A footman opened the door for him, and he stepped onto the ground. The door to the townhouse opened, and Cooper greeted him with a cheery smile.

“Good evening, milord,” he said, ushering him in. “Please do come inside.”

Martin stepped into the entry hall. “Thank you,” he acknowledged.

“Allow me to escort you to the drawing room.”

“I hope that I am not the last to arrive.”

Cooper shook his head. “No one has come down, since I have yet to ring the dinner bell,” he informed him as he started walking across the entry hall. He stopped outside of the drawing room and gestured for Martin to enter.

Once he stepped into the drawing room, he walked over to the mantel over the fireplace and picked up a small, ornately decorated vase.

The dinner bell sounded, and Hannah’s voice came from the doorway. “Careful,” she said. “That vase belonged to my mother.”

Martin returned the vase to its original position before he turned towards her. “You must think me terribly clumsy if you fear I will drop it.”

“I do recall the time when you were responsible for bringing back the clay pot from the ruins and dropped it right outside your house.”

Martin chuckled. “That was one example,” he said. “I think you would be hard pressed to come up with another one.”

Hannah had an amused look on her face. “What about when you fell out of a tree when we were racing to the top?”

“The branches were slippery from the sudden downpour earlier that day.”

“I did not have the same issue,” Hannah remarked smugly.

Martin grinned. “No, you did not,” he acknowledged. “But I would like to point out that I beat you on many other occasions.”

“I’m afraid my recollection of that is rather vague.”

“That is mighty convenient,” he joked.

Hannah stepped further into the room, and he took a moment to admire her. She was dressed in a pale blue gown with white net overlay. Her hair was piled high atop her head and small curls framed her face. Did she know how enticing she looked?

“You are looking lovely this evening,” he praised.

Hannah came to a stop next to an upholstered armchair. “You are most kind,” she said, but her response was lackluster.

Martin didn’t know why her response bothered him, but it did. He had meant it as a sincere compliment, but she didn’t take it as one. Why was he having to work so much harder for Hannah’s approval than he once had?

Hannah kept her face expressionless as she asked, “Did you call upon Lady Emma as you intended?”

“I did,” he replied.

“Did it go well?”

Martin nodded. “Lady Emma is delightful.” He couldn’t be certain, but it almost appeared that Hannah stiffened the moment the words left his mouth.

“That is very promising,” she said in a cheery voice.

“I believe so, as well.”

A silence descended over them as Hannah shifted her gaze away from his. He found the quiet to be quite deafening, so he said, “I understand

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