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“I think the soothsayer in you is peering through rose-colored glass,” he said as he drew her hand down. “But here, on the physical plane, there is a wood box that needs to be filled.”

And he had a matter to discuss with Tempest.

He stood, pressed a kiss to his aunt’s cheek and went to the door. But before he could leave, she left him with a notion that

would likely plague him until the end of his days.

“If Miss Hartley is anything like her mother,” she said, “then I know she will hold on to you just as fiercely, and no one—not

even Redcliffe—could separate you.”

A chill slithered down his spine.

Jasper hadn’t seen his uncle since the Leighton Ball when he’d become unexpectedly ill and was unable to partner Miss Handscombe.

But Redcliffe’s pursuit of a new heiress to wed would not end. Therefore, as always, Jasper kept watch over his activities

with the assistance of a few loyal servants who knew the kind of monster the earl actually was.

If there was one thing he was grateful for, it was the fact that Althea wasn’t an heiress. Because, if she were, there was

likely nothing Redcliffe wouldn’t do to have her. Thankfully, Countess Broadbent had prevented an introduction by delivering

a subtle cut direct, but a cut nonetheless.

***

When Thea opened her eyes that morning, the first thing she saw was a sliver of sunlight brushing the tip of the paper rose

on her bedside table. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or sigh.

Before the ball had ended, she’d wanted to ask Truman what he knew about St. James. Since her brother had an annoying affinity for seeing through people and knowing all their secrets, she imagined he could tell her a good deal about Jasper.

But before she had the chance to pose the question, he began doling out the foreboding wisdom of an elder brother.

Apparently, Summerhayes had asked for permission to court her. When Truman informed her of that, she’d confessed to her uncertainty

regarding the captain.

“I simply don’t feel a spark.”

“Gently bred women are left with few options,” Truman had said, raising a hand in defense. “And before you rail at me for

being able to pursue my own dreams as an architect, I will state that I know it is unfair. Nevertheless, you’ll have to decide.

Do you want to live with our parents? Or do you want to make a life of your own with someone you can respect? Someone you

could like and, perhaps, could grow to love in time?”

In that moment, she’d felt as if stones were being placed on top of her chest, one after the other.

Her first option was to live in the house she’d grown up in, but her parents would be disappointed. Her second was to continue

on with the rest of this Season, but at great cost and physical toll to Lady Broadbent. And third, to marry and have a home,

but not with the man she wanted.

On top of all this was the ever-present reminder that her dreams didn’t factor into any of her choices. Not to mention, the

heap of secrets she was keeping.

Thinking about it this morning, she felt crushed beneath the unbearable weight of it all.

Finding it hard to breathe, Thea threw off the coverlet and sat with her legs dangling over the side as she dragged in a gulp

of air, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress. What was she going to do? What was she going to tell Captain Summerhayes

when he came to call? What if she never wrote again?

Her anxious gaze fell on the paper flower once more. It made her think of cool night air, of longing and of impossible things that turned out not to be so impossible after all.

Gradually, her breathing slowed. She realized that she needed to step away from this. All this obsessive thinking wasn’t getting

her anywhere. So, she decided to focus on someone else.

Crossing the room, she splashed cold water on her face, then dressed for the day. Since her maid was still in the grips of

a cold, she went upstairs to sit with her.

***

“The cook made this tea with elderflowers and says it will do the trick,” Thea said as she set a tray over the maid’s lap.

With a scraggily plait of brown hair over her shoulder, Tally blinked with puffy eyes, her face pale and her nose red as she

sniffed into a balled-up handkerchief. “Forgive me, miss. I hate to be such a bother.”

“You’re no bother at all. All that matters is that you are yourself again,” Thea said, feeling those words to her very soul

as she fluffed her pillows. “In the meantime, what can I do for you? Take down a letter? Read one of those gothic romances

you are so fond of? Or... I could dash off to Gunter’s for the parmesan ice you like, hmm?”

“You are ever so kind, miss. With my nose all stuffed, I cannot taste a single thing and Gunter’s would be lost on me. And

I’ve already written my letter.”

“Then I shall post it for you.” Seeing Tally’s eyes dart to the table where there was a folded missive, she crossed the room.

“Oh, no, miss. That won’t be—”

Before her maid could stop her, Thea picked up the letter and distractedly skimmed the address. Her brows arched with intrigue.

“Mr. Lawson?”

Tally’s cheeks flooded with color that had nothing to do with fever.

Ben Lawson lived in the dower house near Hartley Hall. He was neither servant nor tenant, but looked after the place and kept

it in good standing. His background was a mystery, but Father frequently welcomed men who’d run into a bit of bad luck to

live there until they were on their feet again. And Ben Lawson had been there so long that he was like a member of the family.

Tally looked down to the handkerchief in her hand. “He wrote to me, stating that he knew of my cold from your letter to Lord

and Lady Hartley and sent his best wishes for my swift return to health.”

“Did he, indeed?” Thea asked, grinning from ear to ear. “So... you and Mr. Lawson, hmm?”

Tally swallowed and shyly glanced up. “Nothing untoward has happened. He is a good man and he would never...”

“Oh, but you want him to, don’t you?” she teased.

Her color deepened. “I am six and twenty and he is rather handsome... I mean... He is good and kind and...”

“Fear not, Tally. I will be happy to post your scandalous correspondence with a bachelor.”

Her gaze flew up to Thea’s. “I hope you know that, if he had a sister, I would write to her instead. I’m not...” She swallowed

again. “Well, I’m rather shy... around men.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Tally, who is also good and kind. It isn’t any wonder why Mr. Lawson would be drawn to you.”

“Oh, miss, you’re going to make me cry.” Even as she spoke, her red-rimmed eyes began to shimmer. And when Thea withdrew her

own handkerchief from her sleeve and gave it to her, she tentatively took it and said, “But I haven’t made any plans with

him. For the future, I mean. Your family has been most kind to me, and I am ever loyal to each of you.”

It took Thea a moment to understand what she was trying to say. Then it struck her. Her maid wasn’t making any plans of her own because she was waiting for Thea to marry.

“Do you want to hear something I just realized, Miss Evans?” she asked as she brushed back a hank of hair from Tally’s warm

forehead. “There are times when a woman must do whatever she has to do in order to make her own heart happy.”

As she left the attic and walked downstairs with the letter, she thought about her own epiphany as well as what Tally said

regarding Mr. Lawson’s sister. That was what a woman did in order to get to know a man better—she spoke to a member of his

family.

By the time Thea reached the foyer, she had tingles. And suddenly she knew how she was going to learn more about St. James.

And, perhaps, worm her way into his heart.

Yet, as far as she knew, his only family was the Earl of Redcliffe.

Well then, it seemed that she would need an introduction. And who better to do the honors than Lady Abernathy?