The lady in mourning was nothing like his ideal. She did not appear to be in the first blush of youth. Her figure was a little too mature for that. It was certainly an excellent figure, even though her widow's weeds had not been designed to show it to full advantage.

He felt an unexpected rush of pure lust and was thoroughly ashamed of himself. Even if she had not been in deepest mourning he would have felt ashamed. He was not in the habit of gazing lustfully upon strangers, as so many young blades of his acquaintance were.

"I hope she does not boil in the heat," he said. "Ah, here come Kate and Monty."

Katherine Finley, Baroness Montford, was Stephen's youngest sister. She had perfected the skill of riding only since her marriage five years ago, and was on horseback now. She was smiling at both of them. So was Monty.

"I came here to give my horse a good gallop," Lord Montford said by way of greeting, "but it does not seem possible, does it?"

"Oh, Jasper," Katherine said, "you did not! You came to show off the new riding hat you bought me this morning. Is it not dashing, Stephen? Do I not outshine every other lady in the park, Constantine?"

She was laughing.

"I would say that plume would be a deadly weapon," Con said, "if it did not curl around under your chin. It is very fetching instead. And you would outshine every other lady if you wore a bucket on your head."

"Dash it all, Con," Monty said. "A bucket would have cost me a lot less than the hat. It is too late now, though."

"It is very splendid indeed, Kate," Stephen said, grinning.

"But I did not come here to show off the riding hat," Monty protested.

"I came to show off the lady beneath it."

"Well," Katherine said, still laughing, "that was clever of me. I have squeezed a compliment out of all three of you. Are you going to Meg's ball tomorrow, Constantine? If you are, I insist that you dance with me."