This was not a conversation that could be had in the Macnair house, and so three o'clock saw her in her brother's study in Kent quite direly in need of his counsel.

"Valerian has asked me to be his wife," Tatiana Lestrange said without preamble, her voice dispassionate so that she might know her brother's mind without influence.

Indeed, she was decidedly not dispassionate about the matter, and the past week had seen her no closer to having an answer for her cousin than she had been in the moment he had proposed. Saying yes to Valerian meant saying no to Charles Macmillan—but saying no to Valerian meant saying maybe to spinsterdom. Why could Mr. Macmillan not have proposed in a more timely fashion?!