Page 54 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

“Forgive me,” Candace rushed to say, mortified. “That was a thoughtless comment.”

“No apology needed, my dear. I only bring it up to point out that my marriage was a happy one, and if I had the choice, I would still be married.”

“Of course. Again, I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” The baroness waved her concern away with a hand. “To be clear, if your aspirations had always been to remain unattached, you would find no greater supporter of such a plan than myself. But why would you change your desire to be married simply because you ran into an awful cad?”

Candace didn’t have a good answer for the question. She looked to Vera for help but found her friend staring out the window, seemingly deep in thought.

Jacqueline continued, “Not everyone is meant for marriage. There’s no tragedy in that, though some treat a single lady as they would a leper, as if her condition were catching. But if you aspire to a happy marriage, there’s no use in claiming you wish to remain unattached.”

“I suppose not.”

“I’d advise you not to close any doors on your future. Try to enjoy exactly where you are, while you’re there.”

A brief scrabbling came from the doorway; Candace yelped as a streak of russet darted under the table.

“It’s all right,” Jacqueline said. “I’m sorry he alarmed you, but that’s just Clarence.”

“Clarence?” she dumbly repeated.

“He’s a fox.”

Candace pressed her lips together to keep herself from stupidly repeating the baroness’s words once more. Instead, she leaned over to peer at the creature. Once she’d recovered from the shock of it, she could see that it was, indeed, a fox. He’d curled himself around Jacqueline’s legs, draping his tail over his paws. He was a handsome little thing, with reddish-brown fur and intelligent eyes that stared back at Candace curiously.

“He’s adorable,” Vera breathed.

Candace’s eyelashes fluttered with her surprise. Based on Vera’s reaction to Seamus, she would have guessed that her friend didn’t like animals, but she sat studying Clarence’s red fur with wonder-wide eyes.

“He agrees with your assessment, I’m afraid.” Jacqueline laughed down at the little creature, who was cleaning one paw demurely. “He’s quite vain. He loves to sit in front of the full-length mirror and stare at his own reflection.”

Candace didn’t know how to ask what she longed to know without sounding insufferably rude. She wanted to demand, Why is there a fox in your house? But if there was something she’d learned in her years, it was that people were funny about their pets.

Finally, she mustered up a winning smile and an innocent tone and delicately asked, “How long have you had Clarence?”

“Ever since he was a kit. A baby, that is. He was orphaned and injured and wouldn’t have lasted in the wild.”

Clarence slunk toward Vera, who was trying to entice him with a piece of cold ham. He took it delicately from her fingers and darted back beneath the tablecloth. Candace resisted the urge to squeal when his bushy tail brushed her skirts.

“I have a collection of them, you see.”

“Of foxes?” Candace asked, eyes wide.

“Wild animals who were injured or orphaned. Admittedly it’s a strange hobby, but it’s the only one I’ve found that I’m interested in.”

“When you say wild animals…” Candace trailed off, looking toward the entrance and imagining a boar trotting through the open doorway.

Vera clearly shared none of her concern—she held out another piece of ham, making little kissing noises as she tried to coax Clarence out from beneath the table once more.

“Nothing dangerous, mind you. The worst thing I ever had was a badger that shredded a sofa, but he was well enough to return to the hedgerow within a fortnight.”

“So you release them,” Candace said, relieved.

“The ones I can. A few of them, like Clarence, are too domesticated to stand a chance in the wild. It’s a risk of taking them in when they’re babies—they get too used to the creature comforts of a house.”

“Oh.”

Clarence’s little nose appeared from beneath the tablecloth, sniffing in Vera’s direction.