“His wife died, oh, I’m not sure how many years ago,” Louisa continued. “But that did not signify, as he had a perfectly healthy son. And his son had two daughters, so obviously his wife was not barren.”

Annabel nodded, wondering why it was always the woman who was barren. Couldn’t a man be incapable, too?

“But then his son died. It was a fever, I think.”

Annabel had been made aware of this part already, but she was sure Louisa would know more, so she asked, “Has he no one else to inherit? Surely there must be a brother or cousin.”

“His nephew,” Louisa confirmed. “Sebastian Grey. But Lord Newbury hates him.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Louisa said with a shrug. “No one knows. Jealousy, maybe? Mr. Grey is terribly handsome. All the ladies fall at his feet.”

“I should like to see that,” Annabel mused, imagining the scene. She pictured a blond Adonis, muscles straining his waistcoat, wading through a sea of unconscious females. It would be best if a few of them were still somewhat sentient, perhaps tugging on his leg, setting him off balance-

“Annabel!”

Annabel snapped to attention. Louisa was addressing her with uncommon urgency, and she’d do well to listen.

“Annabel, this is important,” Louisa said.

Annabel nodded, and an unfamiliar feeling washed over her-maybe of gratitude, certainly of love. She’d only just got to know her cousin, but already there was a deep bond of affection, and she knew that Louisa would do everything in her power to keep Annabel from making an unhappy alliance.

Unfortunately, Louisa’s power was, in this capacity, limited. And she did not-no, she could not-understand the pressures of being the eldest daughter of an impoverished family.

“Listen to me,” Louisa implored. “Lord Newbury’s son died, oh, I think it must be a bit over a year ago. And he started looking for a wife before his son was cold in his grave.”