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Royce ran two fingers along his jawline and unconsciously thrust out his chin as if his thoughts had taken on a particularly unpleasant aspect.

"I remember Helmsdon.” His eyes narrowed at some distant memory.

"He was not a man for whom honor held meaning. I trust I do not have to tell you that a desperate man without honor can be viler than the thieves and cutpurses of London?”

Jane shivered slightly at the cold, granite-hardness in his tone and manner.

What was worse was he spoke her unformed thoughts.

She was becoming increasingly thankful for the heavy oak door with its large brass lock.

If she prevented Helmsdon from manufacturing a compromising situation within the house, and if she refused all invitations to solitary rides or drives, she should realize a large measure of safety.

The sudden tightness in her chest eased, allowing her to respond with her legendary sangfroid.

“We believe my cousin Millicent, Mr. David Hedgeworth’s widow, to be his current target. It is she he accompanies here,” she said blandly, though a hint of a smile hovered at the edges of her lips.

“And you intend to spoil Helmsdon’s game by informing your cousin of his intentions.”

Jane’s eyes opened wide, and a rich, rippling laugh escaped her lips.

Royce crossed his arms over his chest, the material of his jacket bunching only slightly at the shoulders for his jacket was cut more for his comfort than to the dictates of fashion.

He leaned back against the plump brocade pillows of the settee and cocked his head to the side as he considered Jane.

Lady Elsbeth lowered her needlework to her lap for a moment. "There is no great familial love shared between my nieces,” she explained dryly.

Royce looked at Lady Elsbeth, a slightly puzzled frown twisting his brows. "Then why have her visit?”

Lady Elsbeth sighed. "My elder sister Serena, Lady Charles Tipton, did not ask, she merely announced. We could not very well turn them away, for this is not our house, and they have been guests of Mr. and Mrs. Litton on previous occasions.” She started to pick up her needlework, then paused and returned it to her lap.

"My sister did write to chastise me for failing to see Jane suitably wed yet. I do hope she has not decided to undertake the task.”

“I have already told you, Elsbeth, that I believe she has," Jane said calmly.

Royce would have questioned her further if the sound of running feet outside the closed parlor doors hadn’t pulled his attention away.

The sound was followed moments later with the double doors swinging wide, and Bertram and Edward, dressed for riding as Jane knew Jeremy would tell them, skidded to a halt inside the room.

“Is it true? Is it really true?” Edward demanded excitedly, scurrying over to the earl.

Royce rose to prevent the boy from launching himself upon him. "Yes, you repulsive whelp,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair to negate any sting in his words.

None was detected, for the child instantly began a recital of his pony's good and bad points.

“Cut line, you clodhead,” interrupted his older brother in disgust. "Ecod, you ain’t even bowed properly yet!” So saying Bertram executed a deep bow that caused him to lose his balance slightly. He stepped back hastily, a blush of red ascending his cheeks.

The earl nodded gravely, pretending not to notice the awkward bobble. "You make a nice leg. Only not so low. I am not of royal blood.”

“Yes, sir. No, sir. I mean, yes, sir!” Bertram returned crisply, staring up at Royce with mannish determination to be counted more than a child.

Jane and Elsbeth exchanged covert glances. The earl was hard-pressed to maintain his bland countenance. A small tug at the tails of his coat drew his attention back to Edward.

“Like this, sir?” asked Edward. With grim-faced determination he bowed.

“Excellent. Now, gentlemen—” The boys squared their shoulders proudly at being dubbed gentlemen. "Shall we bid your lady aunts adieu and be off?”

“Yes, sir!” they chimed and collided with each other in their mutual haste to be the first to say good-bye. They looked as if they each would cut up the other for the accident, but a glance up at the earl forestalled their habitual bickering. They said good-bye in a rush, darting for the door.

The earl moved more leisurely, a genuine smile now curving his lips and lighting his dark eyes, eliminating their habitual shadows. "I shall take care of them and see they come to no harm.”

Jane nodded slowly, a wry smile dispelling her wintery, remote expression. "I have no concern for their welfare, but I fear it is your own I should bear concern for,” she teased, looking up at him in a far more friendly fashion than she was wont.

“I should be honored.” He bowed formally.

Jane started, a bright blush of color again sweeping across her pale complexion. The sincerity of his response rattled her calm. Immediately she swept her invisible mantle of protection about herself, her expression cooling.

Royce wanted to kick himself for sending her back into her world of ice and snow.

He would need to take better care with this one if he wished to tear down her barriers.

Swiftly, giving no indication that he sensed a change in Jane’s manner, he bid both ladies good-bye, again reassuring them as to their young relatives’ safety, and followed the children out the door.

Lady Elsbeth clasped her hands over her needlework and sat staring at Jane, her head cocked in a considering fashion.

Jane bristled, her mouth working as though she thought to say one thing or another, and ended by discarding them all.

Finally, they saw the small party pass by the parlor's large window, Royce tipping his hat toward them as he passed.

"The man is certainly an odd fish. I wonder if we do trust the children in his company.”

“Certainly we do,” returned Elsbeth. "But if he means to pursue their company, I wonder at Serena’s reaction.

" And to your own, though I’d not say that to you, Elsbeth thought .

She picked up her needlework, pulling her needle free as she considered the pattern growing beneath her fingers.

"At all events, our bucolic, peaceful existence here at Penwick will never be the same.”

Jane had no response for that, for she feared Elsbeth to be right.