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“ I knew, sister dear, I should find you up and about early,” cooed Lady Serena, breezing into the small breakfast parlor early the next morning. Her ornate morning gown was made with layer upon layer of gossamer yellow muslin. It fluttered as she walked.

“Since I was a child,” her sister returned placidly. "What has you up this early? I was sure we wouldn’t see you for hours yet.”

Lady Serena nodded. "I wished to talk to you,” she began.

She looked around for a footman, then shrugged and pulled out a chair next to Lady Elsbeth.

"Privately, sister to sister. It is difficult when one is entertaining and must see to the guests’ comforts.

I should never have brought the Willoughbys.

They are so—so frightfully rural , don’t you think?

” She grabbed the coffee urn and filled her cup.

Lady Elsbeth laughed. "I’ve scarcely had the opportunity to speak with Lord and Lady Willoughby. But they strike me as a quiet couple, inclined to stay together.”

“Oh, they do. Boringly so.” She took a sip of coffee. "But enough about them. What I really want to talk to you about is the Marquis of Conisbrough.”

***

“Oh?” Lady Elsbeth said carefully, absently moving a slice of meat about on her plate.

“I could not believe it when he walked through that door last evening! The audacity!” Lady Serena reached over, laying her hand on her sister’s arm, halting Lady Elsbeth’s idle shuffling of food on her plate.

"But I also wanted to tell you how proud I am of you, sister dear. The way you handled him. Oh, not the faint, of course. Any woman of sensibility would have fainted from the shock if they’d been in your position.

No, what I found exceptional was your behavior afterward.

You were properly cordial, yet you displayed just the right degree of constrained friendliness.

Perfect, perfect,” she enthused, letting go of her sister’s arm.

She leaned back in her chair, her expression reminiscent.

"Ah, seeing you last night, I wish I’d seen you fifteen years ago when you turned down his marriage offer.

And also later—in Vauxhall Gardens—when you told him what you thought of his manners and morals.

Imagine a man maintaining two mistresses in separate establishments and offering marriage to a woman of exceptional birth! What could you do but turn him down?”

Lady Elsbeth froze. Carefully she laced her fingers together, placing her hands in her lap. "How did you know what occurred at Vauxhall Gardens?” she asked neutrally, though her pulse beat faster.

“Why—why you told me, of course.”

“Did I? I seem to have forgotten ...” She had not told anyone about the encounter at Vauxhall.

It was too private and painful to be shared.

She cocked her head to one side. Strange.

She’d all but forgotten the source of the tales that had led her to renounce the Marquis of Conisbrough. She did not forget now.

“Tell me, do you think him changed much?” she asked, raising her hands back to her plate and utensils.

“Conisbrough? Gracious, no. If anything, the man is worse. No doubt he engineered the entire scene last evening just for your discomfiture. Wasn’t that the first time you’ve seen him since you said good-bye?” Lady Serena asked.

“Yes, yes it was. Strange, isn’t it, that circumstances should be such that we wouldn’t meet again for fifteen years? Tell me, whatever became of those two mistresses?”

“Elsbeth! I’m surprised at you. What a question to ask me! As if I would pay attention!”

“I only thought as it was you who told me about them, you would know what became of them.”

“Well, I only listened and learned because I knew you considered yourself in love. I thought it my duty as your elder sister to look out for your interests. After you promised not to see him again, I dropped the matter, of course. But what is this? I feel I am undergoing an inquisition!”

“I’m sorry, Serena. I suppose seeing Lord Conisbrough again brought back too many memories and too many unanswered questions.”

“I don’t know what unanswered questions there might be. It all seems straightforward to me.”

“Yes, I suppose it would ...”

“What? Oh, no matter. What I also wish to discuss with you, sister dear, are your plans once dear Jane is safely wed.” She leaned toward her sister, her expression serious, and her lips pursed in a tight bow.

“My plans?” Lady Elsbeth parroted back to give herself time to think.

“Excuse me, Elsbeth,” Jane said, appearing at the doorway. Her knowing smile revealed she’d heard Lady Serena’s last statement. She ventured to interrupt to give Lady Elsbeth time to gather her scattered wits. "Cook said there would be no problem, and I’ve ordered the structure swept clean."

"Oh, an excellent idea,” Lady Elsbeth said. She smiled at Jane, exchanging amused appreciation with her niece for whatever notion Lady Serena was about to bring forth, along with a thank you for the timely interruption.

Jane nodded and went down the hall in search of Mrs. Phibbs.

Lady Serena pursed her lips and shook her head at Jane’s interruption.

“I’m sorry, Serena. I believe you were asking about my plans?”

“Yes. For you know, it won’t be too much longer before Jane is wed.

It can’t be. She is far too wealthy and attractive—in a dark way—to remain a spinster all her life.

And what will you do when that happy event transpires?

Please do not tell me you shall remain here at Penwick Park to take care of those two boys whenever Mary and Delbert Litton take it into their heads to go jaunting overseas!

I swear Mary is very like her father. I’m inclined to believe there is gypsy blood somewhere in the Grantley family.

Nonetheless, she and Litton are well matched. But stay here you cannot.”

“Why?”

“Because—Well, because you need a life of your own without being at the beck and call of our relations.”

“That would be pleasant, Serena. But you forget I am virtually a charity case. I have a modest income for my needs, but it is certainly insufficient for maintaining an establishment, and I do not think I should like renting rooms.”

Lady Serena shook her head adamantly, her dark, slightly gray-streaked curls bobbing back and forth. "Good heavens, no indeed. And besides, it is beneath you. The family would never stand for it. No, I have a better proposition. Come live with me.”

“Live with you?”

“Yes. As certain as I am that Jane will be wed soon, so shall my dearest Millicent remarry. Then I shall be all alone. It is not a prospect I greet with equanimity, I can assure you. So, come live with me. We shall deal together very well, sisters as we are. And what could be more amenable in society’s eyes? "

"You make an interesting proposition. I should certainly give it some thought,” Lady Elsbeth said, carefully controlling her expression.

“Please do, dear. Only think of the fun we should have together! I know I do.”

“To be sure,” her sister said dryly.

“There now, I’ve said my piece. You will give it some thought, won’t you?”

“Yes, I shall think on it.”

Lady Serena sunk back into her chair. She sighed deeply and looked relieved—no, more than relieved.

She looked satisfied—a bit like the cat at the cream pot.

Lady Elsbeth wondered why it was important to Serena that she agree to live with her?

If Serena intended to take her in as a charitable gesture—as she and Jane had assumed—she would not have hesitated to make some remark to that effect.

She would have basked in her benevolence.

And she would have informed Elsbeth of the few trivial tasks she would expect her to perform.

But Serena had implied that they were to be equals, though Elsbeth felt that her words did not ring true.

Elsbeth could not begin to fathom her sister’s plan.

Lady Serena straightened and reached up to pat her curls. "Good. Now that that’s settled, what are we to do today? Needlework? A little visiting, perhaps? What have you and dear Jane planned?”

Lady Elsbeth suppressed a smile. She told Serena she would think about her proposal, and already her sister was taking it as a fait accompli. She decided not to correct her. "We thought a picnic would be a pleasant diversion.”

“A picnic!”

“Yes. Cook is preparing a cold collation. Mrs. Phibbs is providing suitable blankets for us to sit on. And as you heard Jane say, the little Grecian temple has been cleaned. We shall all go up there, take turns with the telescope, and enjoy our repast.”

A sharp frown pulled at the corners of Lady Serena’s lips. "I hope you do not intend that we should walk there!”

“Why not? We often do.”

“Then that explains your shamefully brown complexions. No, no, no. That will never do. We will take a carriage up. At least the Folly is covered, that should shield us from the worst of the sun. Elsbeth, I cannot countenance a walk of that length, and you shouldn’t either.

It causes unladylike muscles to develop.

Nothing can be more harmful to a lady’s success with a gentleman than to display an inordinate amount of muscle. A woman must stay soft and—and?—”

“And weak,” offered Elsbeth.

“Exactly.”

“I do not see how a little walking can increase muscles to the extent you fear. Nonetheless, if you prefer to ride, we can certainly make arrangements in that manner.”

Her sister nodded. "And I insist you ride with us. You will see how pleasant it is to relax in that way."

“I shall reserve judgment."

“I do not understand how you can be so cool,” Lady Serena said petulantly.

“I know,” Elsbeth said, “and that’s why I wonder if we should deal well together.”

Her sister blinked, a look of panic crossing her smooth, slightly plump features. "Oh, but it is natural for people to not agree on everything. I should think we would still get along famously. Ah, I hear voices coming. I think we are finally to have some company.”