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“What is more bitter to a mother’s heart than a disobedient child?” A single tear trickled down Lady Wodesby’s cheek. “It was a sore trial to raise you children without your Papa’s firm guidance. I am certain that your father if he is watching from beyond the veil, is quite incensed.”

“If he is still the same as the Peter who walked this earth, your man is applauding your daughter for her cleverness, Adrienne,” Tante Reina said, entering with a luncheon tray and setting it down on the table.

“Drury Lane tears, child, pay them no heed. Even as a child, your Mama was like this. When she could not get her way through tantrums, weeping was always the next tactic.”

Thorpe meowed in concurrence.

“Everyone is against me,” Lady Wodesby sniffed. “There is danger afoot, I tell you and you all deny me the tools I need to find its source.”

“Pah,” the Gypsy woman exclaimed. “Do you think you do your daughter any service if, in your Weakness, you lose yourself in the Great Void? You violate the Second Rule: The Force of the Mind must be greater than the Nil of the Void. From what Thorpe told me, he could barely keep you from slipping from the Nil to the Realm of Darkness last night.”

Miranda gasped. There was no return from the Dark Realm, the connection between body and mind was permanently severed, leaving no more than a breathing husk behind.

“As usual, Thorpe says entirely too much,” she snapped.

“You rest, Lady,” Tante Reina said, her tones soothing. “Soon, soon, your strength returns and then we will give you back your things.”

“I am not a child,” Lady Wodesby said, petulantly.

“Then stop acting as one,” the Gypsy replied, picking up the bowl and handing a spoon to Miranda’s mother. “Eat your broth.”

“And what are you smirking at?” Lady Wodesby eyed her daughter.

Miranda sucked in her cheeks and gazed intently at the crooked line of her stitchery. “Smirking? I?” she said, trying to contain a gurgle of laughter.

“There is no place for levity. If I can neither determine the source of the threat nor place a spell of protection, then we are hamstrung until Damien comes home. This is a most serious situation, Miranda Ariel.”

The use of Miranda’s middle name was sobering. “What do you suggest, Mama?” she asked.

“Vigilance is the key. We must somehow keep a constant watch on Lord Brand.”

Thorpe rumbled deep in his throat.

“I suppose you could follow his lordship,” Lady Wodesby said. “‘Tis true that you are quite adept at getting about unremarked.”

The tom purred.

“Yes, I admit that is so,” Lady Wodesby concurred, “a cat may go where no toad could. But a feline would not be welcome in a ballroom or a drawing room. I suppose Miranda, that I must leave you in full charge of Lord Brand’s safekeeping until I am more myself.”

“But Mama,” Miranda protested, “I told him that the task would fall to me, and he thought the very idea ridiculous. And now that I think upon it, I suppose that I cannot truly blame him, after all, I am no mage.”

“Perhaps not, but you are clever and an excellent hand with a pistol or knife,” Lady Wodesby pointed out. “All the enchantment in the world is not proof against a keen mind, a sharp blade or a bullet fashioned of iron. As any witchling knows, magic is useless against iron.”

“Cold iron?” Miranda stood, aghast. “You would actually wish me to use iron against another witch?”

“If it is magic that presents the hazard, then we face a rogue among us, one who might bring persecution upon us all. If the jeopardy is posed by an ordinary mortal,” she shrugged, “iron works as well as lead. However, if I could just peek at my Tarot, just the Minor Arcana, I could find out.”

“No!” Miranda and Tante Reina and a hissing Thorpe chorused.

Lady Wodesby made a moue of irritation, but said nothing as Tante Reina pressed food upon her.

Though her mother could feed herself, Miranda noticed a betraying tremor as the spoon rose and knew that the lady was far more frail than she would have them believe.

Miranda was about to insist that the older woman retire when Dominick entered the room.

“Lady, there is a visitor,” Dominick said, presenting a salver with a card. “Shall I tell her you are too ill to receive?”

Lady Wodesby looked at the piece of pasteboard thoughtfully. “Hester, hoping, no doubt, to find me on my deathbed as a dramatic denouement to last night’s debacle. Tell her that I will see her, Dominick.”

Miranda made an exasperated noise and moved to bar the door. “Why in the world would you wish to see her, Mama? ‘Tis she who is the cause of all this. Unless . . .” Her eyes narrowed in speculation. “Unless you intend to place a curse on her.”

Lady Wodesby waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense, Hester was nothing more than a pawn of fate. There is no cause for a curse. Besides, you did taste the food last night, did you not?”

“It was horrible, except for the sweets,” Miranda said, “but what has that to do with the matter?”

“‘Tis quite obvious that Hester is already under a malediction of the most devious kind, denying her real nourishment, yet causing her to grow as corpulent as a crock. Any bane that I might lay would be as gilt to the lily,” Lady Wodesby said. “But I must see Hester, my dear. If I refuse to receive her, she will noise it about that I am at Pluto’s door. If there are magical enemies abroad, they must not become aware of my present condition of weakness.”

Reluctantly, Miranda stepped out of Dominick’s way. Tante Reina gave a disapproving shake of her head, but made no comment as she whisked the tray away. Miranda returned to her seat in the corner window.

“Adrienne, you poor dear!” Lady Enderby bustled in, her stentorian greeting echoing in the room as she squeezed her bulk into a delicate Chippendale chair near Lady Wodesby. “I am absolutely riddled with remorse. To see you laid low and it is entirely my fault.”

“Nonsense, Hester,” Lady Wodesby said. “The onus is upon me. I should never have succumbed to the temptation of attending your gathering so close upon a long carriage ride. I had forgotten how terribly fatiguing travel may be. That is why I usually prefer to stay close to home.”

“Lord Brand and Mr. Timmons, Lady,” Dominick intoned, presenting their cards.

“Show them in, if you please,” Lady Wodesby commanded, disregarding her daughter’s frown.

To Miranda’s irritation, the marquess ignored the chairs at the opposite end of the room near Lady Enderby and took himself to a seat near Miranda’s window, picking up her needlework and examining it critically.

“Not dead yet, but mortally wounded,” Lord Brand said in an undertone. “Unusual that a woman so deft with a coin would be so clumsy with a needle.”

“How kind of you to say so, Lord Brand,” Miranda remarked, pulling the frame none too gently from his hand. “Unfortunately, ‘tis far easier to make guineas disappear than people.”

“I take it that you are requesting that I vanish, Miss Wilton?”

“Take it as you choose, milord,” Miranda replied, pasting a smile on her face for the sake of appearances. “After last night, I am surprised that you have the audacity to show your face here.”

“I owe you thirty guineas; a gentleman always pays his debts of honor.” Adam said, pulling a small pouch from his pocket. “You wagered thirty guineas that you knew Barone’s methods. You won.”

“I do not want your money, Lord Brand,” she whispered. “Thirty pieces of gold or silver, for that matter. You know full well I would never have revealed the conjuror’s secret to you had I known what you were about.”

“I must confess to being astounded, Adrienne,” Lawrence said, his brow furrowed in concern as he seated himself beside her. “Are you certain that it is wise to be about so soon?”

“Adrienne claims that it is merely the ill effects of her journey,” Lady Enderby said in obvious disappointment. “But I am still inclined to believe that it is the result of the magical forces that she confronted. Do you not think so, Lord Brand?”

Adam refused to rise to the bait. “I would not presume to doubt Lady Wodesby. The traffic upon the roads to London is as close to the true work of the devil as I have ever encountered.”

“Just so,” Lady Wodesby agreed with an approving nod.

“In a few days, I am certain that I will be back to myself, but until then, I am faced with a dilemma. There are any number of invitations that I have accepted on behalf of Miranda and myself, but now, I fear, that I must send my regrets. It is a pity that she must miss it all.”

“I would be pleased to take her under my wing, until you are on your feet,” Lady Enderby volunteered swiftly.

“Were I you, Miss Wilton, I would prefer Thorpe’s paw to her wing,” Adam remarked quietly. “If not for the fact that he is a tom, he would do well among the rest of the Society’s cats.”

“No, Lady Enderby, you are too thoughtful,” Miranda said, rushing to save herself. “But I would be stricken in conscience if I left Mama to recover on her own and I would not be a burden to you.”

“How foolish, child! You have a house full of servants for that chore. Although you are well on the shelf, you may still sample the joys of town, even if an eligible suitor is unlikely,” Lady Enderby pronounced sonorously.

“I am sure that people have long forgotten the disaster of your Season. Lord Hatfill walks with only the smallest of limps these days and he married Lady Simm’s daughter, so she can scarcely claim that you placed a curse to chase away her beaux, can she? ”

“Are you speaking of the girl Brummel anointed ‘Sour-face Simms’?” Adam asked, his eyes narrowing in annoyance at Lady Enderby’s unfair attack. It would appear that after close to a decade, Miss Wilton was still being held to account for every catastrophe that had marked her debut.

“There were some rudesbies who used that sobriquet, Lord Brand,” Lady Enderby said in tight-lipped disapproval.