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Once she was gone, Alex risked peering out from his hiding place.

His little heart was pounding. He was meant to be in bed, of course, but he knew that Mrs. Trench slept soundly once she drifted off, and if he were quiet, he could move around without waking her.

He also knew that if the door to his father’s study stood ajar and he crouched on the landing, he could hear every word exchanged inside.

I cannot believe Miss Belmont tried to talk to Papa like that.Nobody’severtalked to Papa like that. And she was so kind and so nice to me. It’s a pity she can’t stay longer.

She would not be staying longer, however. That had been made clear. While he was getting ready for bed, Mrs. Trench had talked a little more about propriety and how strict the rules could be for ladies. She made it plain that he should never speak about Miss Belmont’s presence here, as it could be damaging both to her reputation and the Duke’s.

“What would happen if her reputation was ruined?” he’d asked, and Mrs. Trench had sighed.

“Hard to say,” she answered, gesturing for him to climb into bed. “Women with ruined reputations have to marry, and quickly. Marriage is the only safety for a woman in this world, unfortunately.”

That did seem unfair, but there was nothing Alex could do about it, of course. Not until he wasolder.

A plan was forming in his head, so daring that it made his heart thump. He crouched down by the banister, peering down into the hallway below. The door to his father’s study was still open, and he could hear the man pacing up and down, muttering angrily, just as Miss Belmont had done.

Suddenly decided, Alex got to his feet and crept down the stairs.

I know who’ll help me.

A thin beam of light coming from under the door indicated that Peter Tinn was not yet asleep.

The steward had always been very fond of Alex, and hopefully, this would work in his favor.

The man answered the door, blinking down at Alex in surprise.

“Master Alex? It is too late for you to be awake,” he said, frowning. “What are you doing in the servants’ quarters? Is something the matter? Is it His Grace?”

“No, no, Papa is fine,” Alex said hastily, hearing the edge of worry in the steward’s voice. “But… but I am worried about Papa. He’s so miserable and so lonely, and I don’t…” he trailed off, swallowing hard. “I’m only eight, so I don’t understand how things work, I suppose. But I have an idea, which might makehim happier in the long run, and I hoped you’d hear me out, at least.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at him. “An idea? What sort of idea? And why do you need to tell me about it? Why can’t Jemim—Mrs. Trench, that is—help?”

Alex sighed. “She’d never agree. And I would need you to do something for me—to send off a letter right now, tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He nodded. “Yes. It would need to be sent tonight, as tomorrow might be too late.”

Peter leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, I’m intrigued. I’m rather getting the impression that this is all very hush-hush, and not a word of this should be breathed to anyone.”

“Yes, please, Peter. You can’t tell anybody.”

The steward pursed his lips, considering. “And who would I be sending this letter to?”

Alex drew in a breath. “To a publisher in London. I know exactly which one. You can be there and back before dawn.”

Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Apublisher? Whatever for? What’s in the letter?”

“Ah. That’s the clever part. Or at least, Ihopeit is.”

CHAPTER 6

Daphne woke up and spent a full minute trying to work out where she was.

When the memory of last night returned to her, she groaned aloud and pressed her face into the pillow.

What was I thinking? I’ve humiliated myself beyond belief this time. And then, to cap it all off, I stormed into my host’s study late at night and tried to tell him how to raise his child.