Do you never wish for London and a Season and beaux and… Ah, but of course you do not. You had Hedley. He was beautiful." "Yes, he was," Vanessa agreed. "Did Sir Humphrey describe Viscount Lyngate to you?" Louisa asked hopefully. "He described him as an agreeable young gentleman," Vanessa said. "But to Father-in-law anyone below the age of his own sixty-four years is young, and almost everyone is agreeable. He sees his own good nature in everyone. And no, Louisa, he did /not /describe the viscount's looks.

Gentlemen do not, you know. I do believe we are about to find out for ourselves, however." Her father-in-law had entered the assembly rooms, looking important in his genial way, his chest thrust out with pride, his palms rubbing together, his complexion ruddy with pleasure. Behind him were two gentlemen, and there was no doubting who they were. There were very rarely any strangers in Throckbridge. Of the few there had been in living memory, none - not a single one - had ever attended a dance at the assembly rooms and precious few had ever been to the annual summer ball at Rundle Park.

These two were strangers - /and /they were at the assembly.

And one of them, of course, was a /viscount/.

The one who stepped into the room first behind Sir Humphrey was of medium height and build, though there was perhaps a suggestion of portliness about his middle. He had brown hair that was short and neatly combed, and a face that was saved from ordinariness by the open, pleasing amiability with which he observed the scene about him. He looked as if he were genuinely glad to be here. He was conservatively dressed in a dark blue coat with gray breeches and white linen. While probably past the age of twenty-five, he certainly still qualified for the epithet /young/.

Louisa plied her fan and sighed audibly. So did a number of the other ladies present.