"I hardly know what to make of it," I said, pouring more tea. "He never mentioned anything about it to me."

"I suppose the conversation on your wedding trip focused on very different topics," Ivy said.

"I can't remember that we talked about anything in particular. He wrote in his journal, I suppose cataloging where we were each day, and I read a lot. He was very nice about buying me books."

"Beastly of him to die before you realized he might be fascinating."

"Yes, and terrible of him to settle such a large amount of money on me." I laughed. "Of course, I won't be able to enjoy it at all until I get out of this ghastly mourning." Even as the words came out of my mouth, the color drained from my face. "I don't mean that."

Ivy took my hand. "I know you don't, dear."

"I certainly never thought things would turn out like this. Barely out in society and already a widow."

"Mourning won't last forever."

"I'm not sure that I even mind, Ivy. Consider my life: I live on my own, with my own servants, and have control over my own money. I can do virtually whatever I want."

"Except move about in society just yet."

"No, of course not, but I'm not certain that I really miss any of that. It was vastly diverting for a while, of course, and I had a lovely time making as many men as possible fall in love with me, but think where I would be if I hadn't married Philip."

"You would still be living with your mother and having your waist measured daily."

"Precisely. A fate not to be borne. But now I have a freedom unprecedented in my life. If Philip were still alive, would my life be much different than it was when I lived with my parents?"

"As an unmarried woman, I would hardly dare to comment on married life," Ivy said wickedly.

"Yes, but you'll know soon enough. Two more weeks and we'll be at your own wedding."