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“And he was not happy to hear that the boys were not available today."

“Oh?” Jane asked, pausing as she pulled up her stockings.

"You know how gossip flies. I swear, half the neighborhood has visited this morning to ask how you are and try to ferret out of us all the details. Anyway, the Culpeppers were among those that called. They offered to take the boys for the day. I know they did so with the hope of learning more. I’m afraid I accepted their offer without providing a morsel of information in return. Quite shameless, wasn’t I?”

Jane laughed as she dropped the dress over her head and twitched it into place.

"Shameless perhaps, but deserving. I only hope Bertram does not return with another black eye, especially as Lord Royce will not be on hand to intercede for him! Lace-up the back, would you please? Elsbeth, speaking of Lord Royce, what is your opinion of him?”

“I like him, why do you ask? And stop fidgeting if you want me to do this.”

“I don’t know. It just all seems so confusing.

I don’t know what to think or believe anymore.

I was determined not to listen to gossip or speculation concerning the Willoughbys.

But look where that got me. I have been equally determined to reevaluate Royce, to keep an open mind where he is concerned.

But will I again be fooled and led astray as I was with the Willoughbys? ”

Lady Elsbeth sighed, then bit her lower lip as she pulled the laces tighter.

"I think we have to learn to listen with an open mind and heart—not only to what others tell us but also to that little voice inside us. I think it must be our soul, for it is neither of the heart nor of the mind, but rather a meld of the two.”

Jane looked over her shoulder. "And what does that little voice tell you of Conisbrough?” she asked softly.

Lady Elsbeth blushed. "I?—"

“Here now, what be ye doing?” asked Mrs. O'Rourke, bustling into the room bearing a large tray. She set it down on a side table near the hearth. "I’ll tend to that, Lady Elsbeth.”

Jane frowned and pursed her lips.

Lady Elsbeth laughed, handing the laces to Mrs. O'Rourke, who tied them with brisk efficiency while Elsbeth uncovered the tray and poured out her niece’s coffee from the silver ewer.

Jane sat down at the dressing table so that Mrs. O'Rourke could tend her hair, and Elsbeth carried over her coffee.

Jane nodded her thanks, then instructed Mrs. O'Rourke not to get overly elaborate. A simple coronet would suffice.

“Nay, lass, that’ll not serve the likes of him!”

“I beg your pardon?” Jane demanded frostily, but she blushed anyway.

“Salvation lies with a tall, dark gentleman,” the woman intoned.

Behind her, Lady Elsbeth laughed.

Mrs. O'Rourke turned toward her. "’Tis not a matter to take lightly. Miss Jane’s trials are yet before her. I know you donna believe in the sight. ‘Tis a gift and a curse, it is. If Mr. Nagel had heeded me warnings about the danger in his position, he’d not be sufferin’ a splinted leg."

“Oh, really,” Jane said, put out. "But if I recall properly, you counseled him against danger in the kitchen.”

She nodded solemnly. "My sights are often teasing, ready to lead me and all astray, just like the little people are wont to do. That is why ‘tis a gift and a curse."

In the mirror, Jane caught her aunt’s amusement. A rueful smile slowly curved her lips. She would not hurt this intense woman by laughing at her beliefs. She reached up a hand to lightly touch one of Mrs. O'Rourke's hands as she pinned a curl in place.

“I shall heed your words and have a care, I promise.”

The older woman dropped her hands down in front of her, clasping them together.

She nodded and then reached up to the back of her neck to remove a silver chain ending in a large medallion bearing what looked like a Celtic cross design.

"I should feel that much more relieved should ye wear this for me,” Mrs. O'Rourke said, slipping it around Jane’s neck and fastening it in back.

“Oh, but Mrs. O'Rourke, I couldn’t?—”

She stilled Jane’s hands as they would remove the necklace. "Please, miss. It is such a small thing I beg of ye. See, we can tuck it behind yur fichu if ye like and no one to the wiser.” Knowing herself to be lovingly defeated, Jane acquiesced.

“There you are!” Millicent said as Jane and Lady Elsbeth opened the heavy oak door from the old family apartments.

“Did you wish something, cousin?” Jane asked mildly, closing the door after herself.

“You know I do! I want you to release my mother. How dare you lock her up!”

“I beg your pardon,” Lady Elsbeth intervened, “but it was not your cousin who ordered Serena confined. It was I.” She linked arms with Jane and walked calmly toward the parlor.

Millicent sniffed and followed behind. "Only because you know on which side your bread’s buttered. You’d tell a different tale if you knew of Great Aunt Arbuthnot’s will.”

“Oh, come now, Millicent,” Jane said as Jeremy opened the door to the parlor for them.

Royce, ensconced on a sofa with his foot propped up on cushions, struggled to rise to his feet.

He smiled welcomingly at her. A flush of warmth swept through Jane at his regard.

Hurriedly she dropped her eyes from his and returned her attention to Millicent.

"What can Agatha Arbuthnot’s will possibly have to do with Elsbeth?

Or for that matter, your mother’s insane behavior. ”

“My mother is not insane!” Millicent denied hotly. Then she drew a deep breath. "Is it bad for her to consider another’s welfare before her own?” Her words were tight, lacking conviction. Sulking, she followed Jane and Lady Elsbeth into the parlor.

“Oh, please, Millicent, not that old chestnut. I heard that tale when I was young! I am not so na?ve today. Never has she done anything to benefit my welfare.”

“But don’t you understand? That is just it! You have so much that anything she took from you would not be missed,” her cousin exclaimed.

Taken back, Jane blinked, dumbfounded. "That—that is absurd! What do you think she is? A latter-day Robin Hood? More like greedy King John,” she said waspishly, refusing to acknowledge Millicent’s contention.

“Ladies! Ladies—please! Can we not discuss this matter with a modicum of decorum, rather than screaming at each other like Billingsgate fishwives?” the earl asked, laughing.

“Furthermore, as I seem to have somehow aggravated my ankle, I should appreciate it if you would all come in and sit down so I may do so again,” he drawled, his eyelids drooping over his dark, unfathomable eyes while a crooked smile kicked up one corner of his finely-chiseled lips.

Jane’s heart turned over when she looked up at him.

He met her glance with a private one of his own that sent her pulses racing.

Quickly she sat down, as near to him as she dared without being obvious.

Conisbrough—treating Lady Elsbeth like fragile Venetian glass—led her to another chair.

Staring out the window, Sir Helmsdon ignored them.

It was left for Millicent to take a seat opposite the earl and Jane.

“Jeremy, please invite Lady Tipton to join us,” Royce said. The footman looked questioningly at Jane. She nodded in agreement.

“Now, Mrs. Hedgeworth, I pray you to continue,” Royce invited silkily.

Millicent preened and shot Jane a superior glance. She felt confident the earl would see things her way. "Mama said that Lady Elsbeth’s life with Jane was no better than that of a drudge. Owing to Aunt Elsbeth’s misguided notions of responsibility, she will not leave Jane until she is wed."

"I see, so she took it upon herself to supply Miss Grantley with a husband."

“Me,” said Sir Helmsdon, coming away from the window where he’d stood looking out over the park. "But why? And why me? Why not Royce, here, or Conisbrough?”

Millicent shrugged her slender shoulders, a little pout thrusting out her lower lip. "You were convenient, and you seemed to desire her.”

“And you did not want him,” Jane added dryly.

Millicent pointedly ignored her. "And we could not envision the legendary Ice Witch with either the Devil’s Disciple or Black Jack! La! That is too comical for words!” she said, inviting them to join in her humor.

When none of the gentlemen so much as cracked a smile, she began to fidget.

"I don’t know what all the fuss is about.

She’s nearly on the shelf. She should be thankful Mama thought to speed matters along, else she’d be forever knowing what’s good for her,” Millicent said pettishly.

She looked from one stone face to another, searching for a dram of understanding.

"No harm came to her,” she continued anxiously, her voice rising, “and none was intended. And—and I won’t pretend to mourn for that man. He was contemptuous!”

“He was a human being,” snapped Jane.

Millicent’s mouth worked for a moment, then her face crumpled.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "No one understands. No one wants to understand. It’s always been for you.

I’ve never had a chance with you around, not even with a lousy fortune hunter,” she bit out, her head jerking up to cast a scathing look in Sir Helmsdon’s direction.

“Oh, Millicent, I do wish you’d stop that caterwauling,” said Lady Serena from the door.

She came in the room on Mr. Burry’s arm as casually as if she were returning from a walk in the park.

"If you’d made the slightest push, you could have had Helmsdon.

But you didn’t. You set your sights higher.

Now you must live with those consequences. ”

“But Mama! You said?—”