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and from a venerable old New York family, would enhance her career. And it would give her something no career, no matter how successful, could give her. Respectability.
    She did not know why this last was so important to her. She had certainly not been brought up with it.
Maybe that’s why I want it so much,
she mused.

CHAPTER 5
    THE morning sun that streamed through Devon’s open window warmed her body as she lay in bed. Not fully conscious yet, she was nonetheless aware of a delicious sense of anticipation. Shaking off her sleep, she tried to remember the reason for her happiness. Ah, yes, John Alexander. She sighed to herself. John Alexander was coming to the house today to go riding with her. The thought of seeing him filled her with a forbidden sort of excitement.
    Devon had been brought up carefully. It was expected that her husband would be the first man with whom she shared a bed. But she was not cold. She had had the same sexual longings and schoolgirl crushes as her friends. And she had tingled pleasantly at the kisses of her beaux. But she had never met a man who could sustain that feeling. Now, she was excited at the prospect that John Alexander might possibly be a man she could love.
    Humming to herself, she threw off the white linen and lace comforter and hurried to the carved cherry armoire that housed her riding clothes. She selected pale gray breeches, a blue cotton shirt that enhanced the aqua of her eyes, and a mauve and gray Harris tweed jacket. After washing her face, she tied her hair into a ponytail with a lavender ribbon, finished dressing, and went downstairs to breakfast.
    “Good morning, darling,” said her mother, “you look lovely.”
    “Thank you. Mr. Alexander is coming over to go riding.” Devon noted the look her parents exchanged and smiled to herself. She went to the Hepplewhite sideboard laden with blueberry muffins, eggs, and Smithfield ham. Devon helped herself to a generous portion of each, then joined her parents at the gleaming, banquet-sized mahogany table. The Richmonds had frequent guests, so the table was always open to its full length, but when they were alone the family sat together at one end. Despite the grandeur of the room, the family’s emotional closeness gave warmth to their surroundings.
    Teasingly, Devon asked, “You both seem bursting to comment on my visitor. May I ask why?”
    “It’s not that at all, Devon, we just… we just—” Her father groped for words, but he found it embarrassing to discuss courtship with his daughter.
    “We think Mr. Alexander is very pleasant, dear,” interrupted Laurel smoothly. “And Mr. Magrath speaks very highly of him. Weren’t you saying that we should invite him for dinner, Chase?”
    “I don’t remem—” Chase began, before catching Laurel’s eye. “Why yes, now that you mention it. Yes, yes, of course. Only yesterday, Devon, I was saying—”
    Devon was unable to stifle her laughter. “Mother, Dad, you don’t have to pretend. I would love for Mr. Alexander to be invited to dinner. I hope to have the chance to know him better and, yes, I think he’s very interesting. Does that tell you everything you’d like to know?”
    Chase opened his mouth to answer and then closed it, at a loss for words. But Laurel was unruffled. She took a sip of coffee. She did not speak until she had returned the cup to its saucer. Then, looking innocently at Devon, she said, “Well, we must do everything we can to be hospitable to Mr. Alexander, mustn’t we?”
    Devon simply nodded and smiled at her mother.
    Really, thought Chase, women were supposed to be subtle but sometimes, he had learned, they could be most outspoken. It was quite disconcerting.
    Devon was pleasantly surprised to discover that John rode truly well. Not that the ability was particularly important to her, much as she enjoyed it; it was just that, like most good riders, Devon disliked people who claimed to ride more skillfully than they actually did. Both the