She was ambitious, he had thought. She had her heart set on making a brilliant marriage and was working single-mindedly toward achieving that aim. She had set her sights on the Marquess of Stanford and appeared to be succeeding. The marquess had visited at Grosvenor Square the afternoon after the ball and had come to pay his respects at the Edgeley box when they were at the theater. David had felt somewhat sorry for Algie, who clearly loved the girl but was standing aside in his usual unassuming way, watching her try to make a more brilliant match for herself.

Yet all the evidence did not fit such an interpretation of Lady Rachel's character. She always greeted Algie with such exuberant joy that David could not escape the conclusion that she loved him too. And her face was always alight with happiness when she chattered away to his cousin. If she was ambitious, she was not attempting to achieve her goals at the expense of those dear to her. She was not turning her back on the faithful Algie. And she was loyal to Miss Barnes. She always made sure that her less-glamorous friend was included in any entertainment of which she was to be a part.

And there was her exuberance, her silliness, her frivolity. She undoubtedly expended a great deal of energy on trivialities. And her conversation was less than profound. The temptation was to dismiss her as a foolish, empty-headed young girl who was centered entirely on self. And yet he could not be satisfied that this was Lady Rachel either. There was a vibrance about the girl, and some inner force or restlessness that defied explanation.

And he did not even know why he wished to explain her. Was it because she was to be his parishioner and he knew that he must get to know her eventually? Yet he did not feel the same compulsion with her parents, and they would be just as much his parishioners. David would have far preferred to see a great deal less of Lady Rachel. He would have been more comfortable without knowing her.