I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Would I never cease hearing about my older sister’s child? My nephew was a creation of God, indeed, but he was also quite possibly the most disagreeable baby upon which I had ever set eyes. Not only did he wail piteously whenever I attempted to hold him, but he also possessed some rather curious physical traits. It had been my limited experience that most babies lose the red, wrinkled skin and expression so common to them (and their mothers!) soon after birth. But this child-pronounced hale and hearty by the doctor-persisted in retaining the most distressingly mottled skin and ungainly form.

Shall I describe the child’s face? In deference to his mother, I think not.

“You are far behind your sister. She already has a babe, yet you do not even have a husband.”

Touché. The battle had already begun, and with Flora, no less! She had long been concerned with my future, since my mother and father passed away soon after my birth. A distant relative hired to care for Frederica and me, Louisa Florey had served as our nursemaid, governess, modiste, and confidante. “Miss Florey” had been shortened to Flora long ago.

Now that Freddie was happily wed, Flora had turned her attention fully to me. She often suggested particular young men in Oxford as potential husbands, never even attempting to cloak her matchmaking as idle speculation. Fortunately, I had learned to overlook her plainspokenness, for its source was always love.

“No one is more aware of my solitude, thank you,” I said. “But I am not yet past hope of being wed.” I would be happy with even a disagreeable baby…

Readjusting her position, Flora bumped against the stool, scattering the pins. “Only see what I have done!” She got down on her hands and knees, sighing. “That is probably my punishment for my insensitive words,” she mumbled to herself as she hunted near the mirror and around the stool. “It is quite one thing for me to be a spinster, but you…” She looked up and smiled, determined to soften her words. “It is as you say, dear Miss Isabella. You are not yet past hope.”