The invitations had taken pride of place on Konstanin's mantelpiece since the moment they had been delivered to his Bartonburg rooms and any mention of the upcoming weddings, however vaguely made and whoever they were made by, had inevitably ended with him mentioning his invitation to the social events of the year. Certainly of the summer. Who knew, perhaps another of the great families would invite him to a wedding yet?

The only two people he had not been giddy around were Urquart, whose fall from standing was such that Konstantin felt it would be rubbing salt in the wound, and Amelia, who he longed to bring with him but doubted would be especially welcome at any festivities hosted by the Lestranges. The fact that he was the only member of his family invited in their own right told him all he needed to know about their actual social standing - he congratulated himself that he had been right to bet on toiling at the Ministry - but he doubted their grace would extend much further.

Still, he really ought to actually tell Amelia about the invitation. The problem was that she was not the sort of young lady who cared for such things, which he found altogether charming, but it did make it difficult to segue into it. Fortunately the Scottish weather was on his side and an opportunity struck while he and Amelia, in the midst of a perfectly pleasant walk, had been obliged to take refuge in a bandstand when the skies unleashed a surprise torrent of rain. Wiping moisture from his face he glanced up at the grey clouds.

"It continues to amaze me that so many brides bet on the summer weather. One might as well get married in December."