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George Littlefield sighed. "I don't see as we will be able to help it, Honoria. I hear the king's divorce has even led to arguments among the lady patronesses at Almack's."

The entire gathering turned to Rosalind. Adam raised his brows, assuming an air of polite inquiry.

"I had not heard," she replied coolly. Adam's eyebrows lifted farther. The fact was that Rosalind had heard a great deal, but now was not the time to repeat any of it.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if the lady patronesses were at odds," George went on. "Everyone else is. Between the king's endless investigations and the queen making her return to English shores into a royal progress, we'll probably have a paper shortage from all the special editions." George wrote for the London Chronicle, a twice-weekly newspaper that relied heavily on politics and gossip for its sales.

"It is impossible to keep up," agreed Mr. Clements. Ernest Clements presided over Rosalind's favorite circulating library. He had been helping with the efforts to advance the cause of Alice's book by introducing her to a number of the most prominent owners of lady's bookshops. Consequently, Rosalind had felt it only right to invite him to the party. "I have had to employ a pair of young men to eject patrons who grow too heated over the news. A fistfight broke out in the reading room this Monday."

"Was the winner for the king or the queen?" asked Alice.

"Oh, the queen, of course," Mr. Clements replied. "Nearly everyone is for the queen. It is her name they are chanting in the streets."

"In the reading rooms and the streets perhaps," drawled Mr. Faulks. "In the clubs it is all for the king."

"Well, king he may be," Amelia sniffed. "But he's a rascal all the same. The man forced the queen to keep one of his mistresses as her maid, 'and' he charged the people for her diamonds!"

"My brothers would thrash the man who treated me with so little respect," agreed Hannah Littlefield.

"A warning to you, George," said Honoria. "Personally, I hope the queen's attorneys make him highly uncomfortable with a full exposure of his clandestine marriage to a Roman Catholic."

Mr. Clements, George, and Hannah exchanged wary glances. Mr. Clements had been born Ernesto Javier Garcia Mendoza y Clemente. He had changed his name to suit English fashions, but not his religion, even though the public celebration of mass remained illegal and Catholics were barred from any number of professions, including the majority of public offices. Hannah, for her part, had been born into a large Italian family. She and George were married in a Protestant ceremony, but she quietly kept the faith of her ancestors. Since his marriage, George had written several anonymous pamphlets on the subject of Catholic emancipation.

It was Mr. Clements who spoke first. "Miss Aimesworth, you make the fact that she is a Catholic sound like a greater offense than the secret marriage."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Clements," said Hannah. "I should have been more careful with my choice of words. It is the breaking of the succession laws and the concealing of his marriage that I meant to decry. Not the lady's religion."

Mr. Clements bowed.

"I'm not going to defend His Majesty," said George. "But he does have some cause for grievance against the queen. There really can't be any excuse for her to be traipsing about the Continent with such a crowd as she has ..."

This proved to be too much for Alice. "Rosalind, you must forbid any more talk of the king's divorce. I will not have it at my party!"

"I agree, Alice," said Rosalind. "This is a celebration, and we shall have no arguments over controversial subjects. Mr. Faulks, you were hinting earlier that you had some interesting news from your friend at the Edinburgh Review. What can you tell us?"

Sanderson, who never failed to enjoy being the center of attention, drew himself up. "As it happens, I am given to understand that the next issue may include mention of a certain new novel."

"Oh!" Alice clapped both hands over her mouth. Amelia squeezed her shoulder. "You don't...He didn't say..."

"Of course, I could not ask whether such mention was favorable." Sanderson spoke regretfully to his punch cup. "But it is possible I overheard a word or two later, as we were enjoying a friendly drink. I do believe all Littlefields will be quite pleased with the results."

"Oh!" cried Alice again. She ran to hug Amelia, George and Hannah, and then turned to Sanderson—suddenly all decorum and correct deportment—and curtsied. Sanderson placed a hand over his breast, careful not to disturb the folds of his elaborate cravat, and bowed.

The gathering laughed at this display, and talk turned easily to small matters, light gossip, and stories of family and friends.