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to remember which is which or whose is whose, Lady Arradale," continuing to play a swinging game that had the child fizzing with delight. "There's always hope that they'll stay out of sight and hearing."

His wife snorted with laughter. Diana just tried not to gape. Dark, dramatic, rakish men were not supposed to be adoring fathers!

Lord Rothgar steered her toward the last coach. "I fear Portia is right, though at least your house is much larger than the inns, some of which may wish never to see us again."

Humor and tolerance, now. Diana was perilously adrift. She no longer knew what might come next, or how she should behave, or how to protect herself.

Or even, exactly what she needed to protect herself from.

"I believe you have met my sister Elf," the marquess said, snapping her out of bewilderment and indicating another couple. Indeed, in one of her two trips to London, Diana had met and liked Lady Elfled Malloren.

"May I present Lord Walgrave, her husband."

Lady Elf was another red Malloren - lighter colored and lighter hearted. Her husband was brown and handsome, but not in the dramatic way of Lord Bryght. More solid. In this company, almost ordinary.

Almost a kindred spirit! Perhaps she could spend time with Lord Walgrave talking about Mallorens instead of with Lord Rothgar being noticeably a couple. After all, it wasn't the thing for married couples to seek each other's company in public.

She was beginning to recognize, however, that the Mallorens were careless enough of fashionable standards to do exactly as they pleased. How was she to deal with that?

At least there were no children here, and the Walgraves were the last of them. There was another brother, she knew. Lord Cynric. He and his wife were in Canada, thank heavens. Enough was enough.

Three days, she repeated silently in her head like a protective incantation as she turned and led the Walgraves toward the house.

"You can't imagine how relieved I am to have this journey done," said Lady Elf. "I'm increasing, and it is proving tedious beyond belief."

Diana should have known it. Besotted and fertile, the lot of them. Perhaps it was their plan to dominate England by force of numbers!

Except the marquess, who had made it clear that he didn't intend to marry or sire children. That ensured her safety from the worst kind of folly, but for some reason it did not completely reassure...

She pushed all thought of him from her mind. "Nausea?" she asked.

"At unpredictable times. If I sometimes flee the company, just be grateful I escaped in time."

"Then it's good of you to make the effort to be at the wedding."

"Oh, we couldn't possibly miss a family wedding, could we?" she asked, flashing a smile at her husband.

"Of course not," he said, though Diana had the feeling he didn't entirely agree. Being a Malloren spouse was doubtless a demanding role.

"We've been enjoying such a spurt of them," Lady Elf said, and Diana remembered that she was a chatterer. "Weddings, I mean. And at least this one has been planned in a leisurely manner and is free of royalty."

Diana resisted the urge to ask. She'd learn the family gossip from Rosa. She couldn't help wondering, however, whether Lady Elf had had to rush to the altar because of her increasing state.

"And I'm delighted to visit the north," Lady Elf added. No. Diana must remember that she was Lady Walgrave now. "It's so lovely up here. All the wildflowers in the meadows. The hills. The vistas! If I could paint, I'd try to capture it. As it is, I plan to explore some industry while we're here."

"Industry?" Diana feared that her mind had wandered and she'd lost the meaning.

"Woolen mills. Cotton manufacturies. That sort of thing."

Diana blinked at her. A tour of Scotland was not unusual, but a tour of manufacturies?

"It's an interest of mine," said Lady Elf, with what seemed to be a mischievous smile. "We'll be traveling on with Bryght and Portia, for they want to see the Duke of Bridgewater's aqueduct. And we all have an interest in the port at Liverpool."

Diana made some vague response, but she was beginning to wonder if this was all a dream. She'd had some nightmares about this meeting.

It was not surprising that visitors from the south wished to see the famous aqueduct - she'd been present at its opening four years earlier herself - but the port at Liverpool? And manufacturies?

She'd planned a house party for bored southerners looking down their long noses at