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“Crispin has done a marvelous job with the house. He has changed enough to reflect his own taste, but left enough that it still feels like home.”

“Were you here often?”

“Several weeks a year. The children loved it. I wish we could have come more often. And I hope everyone makes more time for it now. They are all so busy, but I know Crispin wants company. And time slips away.” She stirred her tea, and her thoughts seemed to take her elsewhere.

Camellia didn’t know whether to respond or not.

Fortunately, Hazard and Alice entered the room, arm in arm. They said their good mornings, then Alice sat, and Hazard went to prepare her a plate. He heaped it full: eggs, kippers, toast, cheese, orange slices. Alice laughed when he set it before her.

“Is that all?”

Hazard smiled. “You must eat for three.”

“Three?”

“Or four. I won’t be eating this morning. I doubt Jasper will either.”

Crispin came into the room. “Your sins will find you out.”

Hazard chuckled. “Lord, I hope not.”

Olivia and Benjamin arrived next. They were an interesting pair. Olivia smiled readily, and seemed to have inexhaustible energy. Benjamin was quieter. Thoughtful. Olivia sat beside the dowager and murmured to Hannah, while Benjamin fetched tea for her and coffee for himself.

“Did you like the lake?” Olivia asked abruptly, turning from Hannah to Camellia.

“Yes,” Camellia said. “It’s lovely. Restful.”

“Did Crispin take you up on the rock?”

For a moment, she misinterpreted the question and stared, startled. Then she quickly answered, “Yes.” She glanced at Crispin, who hid his face with his teacup and hands. She felt certain he was snickering behind them. It wasn’t funny.

“The moon can be spectacular,” Olivia mused.

“Yes. It was.”

Benjamin sat. “Crispin, I’ve told Olivia your secret is out.”

Camellia choked.

Olivia cried, “And I’m so glad! I wanted to bring Winner with us, but Jasper insisted it would be too cold for me to ride, and I couldn’t tell him why it was important.”

Camellia let out her breath. His other secret.

Crispin said, “There will be time after the holidays.” He avoided her eyes by rising and returning to the buffet.

While he was there, Reg and Georgiana arrived.

They gave their greetings. Camellia felt Georgiana’s gaze skitter over her.

Reg sidled up beside Crispin. Camellia thought he passed something into his brother’s hand.

“It’s cold out there this morning,” Georgiana said. Her voice was strained, as if she were trying too hard to sound normal. “Reg and I took a quick walk to the lake.” She looked everywhere except at Camellia.

Wherever that conversation was going, it was interrupted by Jasper’s entrance with Vanessa.

He was whey-faced and grabbed only a cup of coffee.

But it was Vanessa who looked at the offerings on the buffet, went pale, and said, “No. I cannot.” Then sped from the room.

Jasper set down the cup and hurried after her.

There was a long, quiet pause. Then Beatrice said, “I suggest we all pretend we didn’t notice that.” Everyone nodded solemnly. Camellia didn’t understand why they looked so disturbed. Vanessa had to be with child. Were they not pleased?

They breakfasted in silence for several minutes. Gradually, conversation resumed along safe lines. Then it turned to Crispin’s “secret.” He’d evidently confessed to the men last night that he was going to begin breeding horses. And they’d deemed it a worthwhile endeavor.

“But will you be able to let go?” Alice asked. “You’ll fall in love, won’t you? I mean, with the foals?”

“Ah,” Hazard said. “The lady raises a valid point. Beneath that rigid exterior, I believe you do have a soft spot.”

“When expedient,” Crispin said, voice flat, “I can harden my heart.”

Georgiana gasped. Reg put his hand on hers as if to shush her.

“Are we still talking about horses?” Olivia asked, looking around with a grin. “Or should I ask what Reg sneaked into Crispin’s jacket.”

Crispin stood. He gave Olivia such a black look that her eyes went wide, and she blanched. Then he turned from the table and strode from the room without a word.

“I didn’t mean anything,” Olivia said, her voice hushed and frightened. She looked as though she might cry.

No one else spoke. Beatrice appeared miserable. Alice and Hazard were subdued. Benjamin was stone-faced. And Reg and Georgiana looked guilty.

This was absurd. Camellia stood. “Was it the bonnet I lost at the lake?”

Reg did not respond, but Georgiana nodded and said, “A silly reason for such a fuss. It’s so windy out there, I almost lost my own.” Her voice trailed off. Olivia’s eyes went even wider.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Camellia looked to Reg. “Where am I most likely to find him?”

“In a mood? He usually goes for a ride. If he’s gone to get Mercury, you won’t be able to catch him.”

“I’ll catch him. He’ll have to saddle the horse before he can ride.”

She left the morning room, unsure who knew what, but certain they would piece the story together. Or a story. She headed for the front door, only to be blocked by Mrs. Clay.

“Have you seen the music room?” the woman asked. “The pianoforte is new.”

Camellia frowned. “I’ll see it later.”

“I think you should go see it now.” She spoke like a poor actress in a coarse comedy, while pointing down the hallway.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake.” Had the woman been listening behind doors again? She changed direction. “Thank you, Mrs. Clay.”

She found Crispin alone, sitting on the bench before the pianoforte.

It was another lovely room. A little dark because no candles or lamps had been lit, but there was some sunlight from the window.

The walls were covered with lavender paper dotted with black treble clefs.

A cabinet in the corner was open, displaying a pile of sheet music.

Crispin looked up. Chagrin spread over his face.

“I’m sorry, Camellia. I handled that badly. I should have laughed when Reg tried to be surreptitious. He and Georgiana cannot dissemble for the world. For God’s sake! He should simply have waited. It must have been burning a hole in his vest pocket.”

“Laughed?”

“Laughed and thanked him. It was windy last night. Your bonnet loosened.” He rolled his hand as if finishing the story without words.

“Georgiana tried that.”

Crispin snorted. “And how did that work?”

“She made it worse.”

He was quiet a moment. Then plinked a few keys, stopped, and faced her again.

“The thing is, Camellia, they won’t say anything.

Not outside of this house. I expect to be bullied, but no one will bother you if I tell them not to.

They will show you no disrespect. They won’t believe whatever story I tell them, not now, but they will pretend to accept it. ”

“But you will be lying to your family.”

“Not for the first time.” He sounded rueful. “I’m sorry. Truly. I understand this is awkward for you. If you don’t want to stay here…I don’t know. I can throw a tantrum. Send everyone home.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can spin the tale so that they are angry with me. And gentle with you.”

“How? By telling them you are merely taking advantage of a poor widow? They won’t believe that.”

He grimaced. “They might.”

“I doubt that. Besides, I have a better idea.”

“Anything. Whatever you want me to do—”

“Marry me.”

He stared. Then blinked. “You didn’t want to be trapped.”

“I’m not. I trust that your family won’t betray us. It would even surprise me if Alice were to dismiss me. I’m not asking you because of what happened last night or this morning. I’m asking because I want to be your wife.”

“You said you can’t go through it again. Caring for another dying loved one.”

“You don’t appear to be dying.”

“My health cannot be counted upon.”

“Crispin.” She exhaled. “I was wrong. I don’t regret the privilege of caring for my parents. Or the short time I had with my brother. I don’t regret marrying Manfred and easing his passing by presenting him with a son. He was a good, good man. And I certainly do not regret Neville.”

“You are too generous.”

“No, I am realistic. Life is short. I want to seize it, not avoid it. I love you, Crispin. However much time we might have together, I want it. I want it all.”

He turned his head, and stared out the window. He drummed his fingers on his knee. Then he faced her again. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

“You will?” She felt a bit breathless. Stunned.

“Of course, I will. I wanted to propose to you last night, but I was afraid you would break my heart.” He stood. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To the morning room. If you would, stare at me dewy-eyed and pretend I asked you.”

*

Crispin steered Camellia back to the morning room. Jasper had returned. Good . Everyone was there. Except Vanessa, but she’d hear soon enough.

“Taverstons,” he said, leaning against the buffet. He dropped Camellia’s elbow and wrapped his arm around her waist. “May I—”

Olivia jumped up with a squeal. Then everyone applauded. Even his mother. Camellia tensed, then relaxed against him. He tightened his hold. God . He loved his ridiculous family.

“When is the wedding?” Jasper asked, when the applause died down.

He wanted to say as soon as possible. But he didn’t want to imply urgency was required.

Camellia answered, “My late husband passed in September. So…nine months.”

“Nine months!” Crispin protested. “Nine more months? Camellia, nine months is too long.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Alice groaned.

“Amen,” Georgiana said, then laughed.

Crispin swallowed his protest and took what little control they left to him. “ Early next September, at the church in Iversley Village. You all must be there.”