At least she had been well taught, like most English girls, his own sisters had received the sketchiest of educations. Only Alexandra, who loved to read, had a well informed mind. The man who married Sunny Vangelder would be lucky in more ways than one.

Justin had chosen a path that brought than out of the park's wilderness area right beside the water garden. It was an elaborate series of pools and channels that descended across three levels of terraces before flowing into the ornamental lake.

Sunny stopped in her tacks with a soft exhalation of pleasure. "Exquisite. The proportions-the way the statues are reflected in the pools-the way the eye is led gradually down to the lake. It's masterful. And the grass surrounding it like green velvet. How do the English grow such perfect grass?"

"It's quite simple, really. Just get a stone roller and use it on the lawn regularly for two or three hundred years."

She laughed and gave him a glance that made him feel as if he was the wittiest, handsomest man alive.

His heart twisted, and he knew that he must get away from her before he started to act like an utter idiot. "I really must take you back now."

"I suppose so." She took a last look at the water gar den. "Thank you for indulging me, Lord Justin."

Their walk had taken them around three sides of the palace, and it was only a short distance to the Versailles garden where the fete was being held. As they approached the festivities, a tall man saw them and walked over swiftly. It was Paul Curzon, who had gone to Eton with Justin, though they had never been more than acquaintances. Curzon had been active in the most social set, while Justin had paid an unfashionable amount of attention to his studies.

After giving Justin a barely civil nod, Curzon said, "Lady Westron has been wondering what happened to you, Miss Vangelder."