“You’re a little young for marriage,” said the dewan. His eyes were speculative.

Sidheag looked startled at that.

“But I think a long engagement would cover all but the sternest of societal sticklers. If you’re in foreign climes, no one will notice how long you take, and if you’re married by the time you get back, no one will be the wiser. Overseas campaigns can take decades.”

Everyone was looking confused.

Sidheag said, “I don’t follow, my lord.”

“I’ll send the announcement to the Chirrup,” said the dewan to Captain Niall.

Captain Niall nodded. He didn’t look upset, only resigned.

Sidheag cottoned on at last. “Oh, dear me no! I mean, I couldn’t. I mean, I couldn’t force him into anything. What an awful thing to do!”

“Enough. You cannot object to an arranged marriage. You, a single young lady, wish to take up residence with a pack of werewolves. Lord Maccon is gone, and in the absence of blood relations, you at least must be engaged!” The dewan was not to be argued with. Not again in the same night.

Dimity piped up with, “He’s right, you know, Sidheag. And you could always cry off later, I mean overseas, if you really wanted to.”

Sidheag looked sideways at the handsome werewolf captain. “You don’t object?”

Captain Niall said, face impassive, “It’s a fair arrangement, and Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott is correct. It would help to cement my claim to Kingair Pack leadership, if I were engaged to the Lady of Kingair.”

“That sounds sensible enough,” replied Sidheag, sounding a little disappointed.

Then the werewolf smiled at her, shyly. “You’re far too young for me, of course. But with a long engagement, perhaps I might be given the chance to earn your affection?”

Sidheag ducked her head, self-conscious. “I’d like that.”

The dewan looked self-satisfied, as if he’d suspected this result.

Dimity sighed at the romance of it all. “Imagine, a long overseas engagement, how marvelous!”

Sophronia’s heart sank a little. First Soap and now Sidheag. Life was going to be lonely at Mademoiselle Geraldine’s. But she was excited for her friend; after all, this was what Sidheag wanted—to be with her pack.

The dewan slapped his hands together and rubbed them, the clapping sound jarring in the damp night. “Good, that’s settled, then. Now I’m going to go see about some coal for this train of yours. Captain, if you’ll get the party there and settled? Ladies”—he looked severely at Dimity and Sophronia—“I’ll buy you two first-class tickets back to Wootton Bassett at the next station. And some proper attire.”

Considering the fact that he was still naked, both girls giggled.

The dewan trudged off into the night, to change shape behind a bush somewhere.

Captain Niall stood and, like a proper suitor, kept his top hat held in the defensive position. He turned to offer Sidheag his free hand. “My lady?”

Sidheag took it, graciously. Her long, angular face wore an expression of wonder that made it almost handsome. Whatever this relationship she develops with Captain Niall becomes, it will alter her forever. It wasn’t so awful a thing that Sidheag would not be returning to Mademoiselle Geraldine’s. She doesn’t need finishing school anymore, anyway.

Dimity bumped against Sophronia. “Don’t be sad, you still have me and Bumbersnoot.”

Captain Niall let go of Sidheag’s hand and scooped up Soap’s limp wolf body with one arm. He’d recovered entirely from his own bullet wound. Even though Sophronia knew from experience that Soap was no lightweight, Captain Niall made it look easy. Soon Soap, too, would boast that casual werewolf strength. Soon Soap, too, would have that controlled, powerful way of moving. Would he tie a top hat to his head? Sophronia wondered.

She and Sidheag and Dimity trailed behind the captain back to the train.

“An arranged marriage. Sidheag, are you certain you don’t mind?” asked Sophronia.

“Who else would have me?” joked Sidheag.

Dimity said, “You have excellent standing!”

“And that’s about all I have.”

“Do stop being silly,” reprimanded Sophronia, perhaps too sharply. She was exhausted by the physical and emotional trials of the last few days.

Sidheag replied, startled into honesty. “He understands me, I understand him. Good marriages have been built on less.”

“Why, Sidheag, could it be you are a little enamored with the good captain already?” Dimity’s eyes shone.

Sidheag said, gruff and sharp, “Of course I am. Who at the school isn’t?”

Sophronia understood that it wasn’t her own feelings that worried Sidheag. “He will learn to love you. You’re quite worthy of it.”

“The way he cared for you after the masquerade, I rather think he fancies you already.” Dimity was disposed to be less practical on the matter.

Sidheag nodded, looking optimistic. “We will learn to love each other; it will all work out in the end.” This was remarkably prosaic, even for her. “And I get to be with my pack, and I get to travel. That’ll be fun.”

Dimity clasped her hands. “The grand tour!”

“I hardly think fighting in the front lines of the British Army is a tour,” corrected Sophronia.

Dimity sighed. “Why must you always crush my fantasies?”

“Sorry, Dimity, forget I said anything. Well, Sidheag, I, for one, will miss you terribly. How am I going to take down all the Picklemen in England without you?”