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“That is why he married you,” Hester said, “so you may spend time with us, while he cannot.”

Catherine winced, for although she had surmised as much herself, she felt as though it might have been better had the girls not known. How terrible they must feel, thinking that their brother did not wish to spend time with them?

And certainly, Catherine did not imagine they would think more kindly ofher,given that they knew her role was to be a replacement for their brother. A guardian where previously they had not had one. A knot tightened in Catherine’s chest.

“Perhaps, I might persuade him otherwise,” Catherine said. “I shall endeavor to try, at least. As your guardian, I will suggest that you will benefit immensely from his joining us tomorrow.”

“Do you believe that will work?” Hannah asked doubtfully.

“I imagine he will say that you are sufficient,” Hester added. “If you are with us, there is no need for anyone else.”

“Maybe,” Catherine replied, “but it is surely worth a try. I will approach him this evening and ask.”

Hannah hummed. “He has not joined us at the park since Thomas was the Duke of Sarsen.”

“Thomas?” Catherine asked.

She assumed that was not the girls’ father. Such formal children would doubtlessly not call himThomas.

“Our older brother,” Hester said. “He was the duke before His Grace.”

“Oh,” said Catherine.

Thomas must have died very young. Catherine furrowed her brow. She did have the faintest recollection of a young Duke of Sarsen being involved in a duel a year or so before.

That meant Hannah and Hester had lost both their mother and brother in close succession. Catherine’s heart ached for them. How difficult it all must be! And their one surviving relation spent all his hours locked away in his study, too obsessed with his work even to join them at the park.

“When he was the duke, Thomas was not always in his study,” Hester said, “but he did not spend time with us either. Most often, he was in London or abroad.”

“I see,” Catherine murmured.

It was a small wonder that these girls were so cold and formal. They had grown accustomed to looking after themselves, and Catherine suspected they were too afraid that—if they dared hope for more—their hopes would be for naught. Catherine bit her lip. Dorothy would know what to do, but these poor girls had only her.

She must do her best. That was all anyone could ask of her, yet Catherine feared that her best efforts might not be enough.

“Well,” Catherine said. “I must make the effort, and if His Grace will not agree to join us this time, I shall try again and again until he relents.”

“Do you believe he will relent?” Hannah asked. “You are a lady, and everyone knows that lords do not listen to ladies.”

“I am unlike most ladies,” Catherine said firmly. “I have been told so time and time again. I will not give up until your brother joins us at the park. I promise.”

Hester smiled tentatively. “His Grace did inform us that you are known to be unusual.”

“Unusual?” Catherine asked. “Is that what he said?”

Hannah nodded. “Unusual, but you are going to teach us to be proper ladies.”

They alreadyseemedlike proper ladies. Too proper, in fact. Catherine set aside her embroidery and clasped her hands in her lap. “Well, we shall see about that,” she said. “Neither of you have to worry about being proper just yet, not until you are properly introduced to society.”

“It sounds like a dream,” Hannah said, sighing. “All the balls and gowns.”

“It is like a dream sometimes,” Catherine agreed. “And dancing is quite enjoyable. My sister Bridget always dreads the end of the Season because there are fewer balls in the countryside, and she delights in dancing so much.”

“I remember her,” Hannah said. “Your younger sister.”

“Yes.”

“You seem like an….unusual family,” Hester said, her tone seeming to suggest that the words had been chosen with great care.