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after he married—or Margaret or Katherine after they married. She had been her mother’s favorite too.

    Her parents had felt a special tenderness for their plain Jane—her father had sometimes called her that with a fondness that had taken any sting out of the words.

    But she had married. She was the only one of the family to have done so thus far, in fact.

    She had always marveled over the fact that Hedley Dew had loved her so passionately, since he had been as beautiful as a god. But he had. Loved her passionately, that was.

    Vanessa was not the sort of person to resent her sisters—or even her brother—for being better-looking than she. And she was certainly not the sort to hate herself merely because she was not beautiful.

    She was as she was.

    Plain.

    And she adored her siblings. She would do anything in the world to secure their happiness.

    She left Rundle Park on foot early in the afternoon of St. Valentine’s Day, as she did three or four times every week, in order to call upon Margaret at the cottage. They had always been each other’s best friend.

    She set out on her walk at perhaps almost the exact time when Viscount Lyngate and George Bowen were settling into their rooms at the inn, blissfully unaware of what was in store for them for the rest of the day.

    And Vanessa herself was unaware of their arrival—of their very existence, in fact.

    Fate very often creeps up upon people without any warning.

    She walked briskly. It was a chilly day. And she had something particular to tell her sister.

    “I am going, ” she announced as soon as she had removed her winter cloak and bonnet inside the cottage door and greeted her sister in the parlor.

    “To the assembly?” Margaret was seated beside the fire, busy as usual with her needlework, though she looked up to smile warmly at her sister. “I am so glad you have decided, Nessie. It would have been a shame for you to stay away.”

    “Mama-in-law has been urging me for the past week to go,” Vanessa said. “And last evening Papa-in-law himself told me that I must attend and moreover that I must dance.”

    “That was very kind of him,” Margaret said, “but no more than I would expect him to say. And it is high time. Hedley has been gone for well over a year.”

    “I know.” Tears threatened, but Vanessa blinked them away. “Which is exactly what Papa-in-law said. I cannot mourn forever, he told me, and Mama-in-law nodded her agreement. And then we all had a little weep and the matter was settled. I am going.” She smiled a slightly watery smile as she took a chair close to the fire.

    “What do you think?” her sister asked, shaking out the garment she had been working on and holding it up for Vanessa’s inspection.

    It was Katherine’s primrose yellow evening gown, which had been looking slightly limp and tired when she wore it at Christmas. It was at least three years old. Now it sported shining blue ribbon sewn in two bands close to the hem and in one thin band around the edges of the short sleeves.

    “Oh, very smart indeed,” Vanessa said. “It makes the dress look almost new again. Did you find the ribbon in Miss Plumtree’s shop?”

    “I did,” Margaret said. “And a pretty penny it cost too. Cheaper than a new gown, however.”

    “And did you buy some for yourself too?” Vanessa asked.

    “No,” her sister said. “My blue gown is just fine as it is.”

    Except that it was even older than Katherine’s yellow—and more faded. But Vanessa made no comment. Even the one length of ribbon was an extravagance that would have put a dent in Margaret’s purse. Of course she would not have spent so recklessly on herself.

    “It is,” she agreed cheerfully. “And who notices your dresses anyway when the person inside them is so beautiful?”

    Margaret laughed as she got to her feet to drape the dress over the back of an empty chair.

    “And all of twenty-five years old,” she said. “Goodness, Nessie, where has