away for the whole summer after all. Wulfric turns tyrant when I am increasing and insists that I do as little traveling as possible, and he claims to have lost his appetite for traveling alone. Besides, the Earl and Countess of Redfield are celebrating an anniversary this summer and have invited us to a grand ball at Alvesley Park among other things. It would not be neighborly to be from home on such a grand occasion. However, there is plenty of room and to spare at Lindsey Hall for ten schoolgirls.” Lady Aidan laughed. “And does Wulfric agree with you, Christine?” she asked. “Of course,” the duchess said. “Wulfric always agrees with me, even when he needs a little persuasion first. I reminded him that we had twelve girls stay with us last summer for the marriage of Lord and Lady Whitleaf and he was not at all inconvenienced.” “And I was very happy to have them at my wedding,” Susanna said. “My brilliant idea,” the duchess said, returning her attention to Claudia, “was that you come too, Miss Martin. I daresay you intend to return to Bath soon, and if the prospect of spending the summer in a school without any children in it is your idea of bliss—as it very well may be—then so be it. But I would love to have you come to Lindsey Hall with Eleanor and the girls and enjoy the pleasures of the countryside for a few weeks. And if any further inducement is necessary, I would remind you that both Lady Whitleaf and Mrs. Butler will be at Alvesley Park. I know they are both particular friends of yours as well as former teachers at your school.” Claudia’s first reaction was one of stunned incredulity. Stay at Lindsey Hall, setting of one of her worst waking nightmares? With the Duke of Bewcastle in residence? Susanna’s eyes were brimming with merriment. It was obvious that she was having the same thought. “We will be going to Lindsey Hall too for a short while,” Lady Aidan said, “as will Freyja and Joshua. You will be able to see how Miss Bains and Miss Wood are settling to their new positions, Miss Martin. Though they will not begin work in earnest until after we have returned home to Oxfordshire and Freyja and Joshua to Cornwall, of course.” So it would not be just Lindsey Hall and the Duke of Bewcastle—it would be the former Lady Freyja Bedwyn too. The idea that she should go was so appalling to Claudia that she almost laughed aloud. And it was surely not her imagination that Lady Hallmere was looking at her with a slightly mocking gleam in her eye. “Please say you will come,” the duchess said. “It will please me enormously.” “Oh, do go, Claudia,” Susanna urged. But Claudia had had a sudden idea, and it was only because of it that she did not say an instant and very emphatic no. “I wonder,” she said. “Would you balk at the idea of eleven girls instead of ten, your grace?” Lady Hallmere raised her eyebrows. “Ten, eleven, twenty,” the duchess said cheerfully. “Let them all come. And bring the dog too. There will be plenty of space for him to run about. And I daresay the children will spoil him quite shamelessly.” “There is another girl,” Claudia said. “Mr. Hatchard, my man of business in town here, has mentioned her. He sometimes recommends charity cases to me if he believes I can do something to help the girl.” “I was once one of them,” Susanna said. “Have you met this girl, Claudia?” “Yes.” Claudia frowned, hating the lie but finding it necessary. “I am not at all sure she is suitable or that she wishes to attend my school. But…perhaps.” The duchess got to her feet. “You will both be very welcome,” she said. “But we must be on our way. This was intended to be a very brief visit, since it is not at all the fashionable hour to call upon anyone, is it? We will see you both at Mrs. Kingston’s ball this evening?” “We will be there,” Susanna said. “Thank you,” Claudia said. “I will come to Lindsey Hall, your grace, and help Eleanor care for the girls. I know she hopes to spend some time with her mother while she is there, and now that you intend to remain at home too she will wish to spend time with you as well.” “Oh, splendid!” the duchess said, looking genuinely pleased. “This is going to be a delightful summer.” A delightful summer indeed, Claudia thought wryly. What on earth had she just agreed to? Was this her summer for going back in time to confront past horrors and perhaps exorcise them from her memories? Peter had just stepped into the room to greet the visitors. He and Susanna went downstairs with them to see them on their way. Lady Hallmere remained behind for a few moments, held perhaps by a very direct look from Claudia. “Perhaps Edna Wood told you,” Claudia said, “or perhaps she did not, that I did not approve of her taking employment with you. It was her own choice to attend an interview and to accept the position, and I must respect her right to do so. But I do not like it, and I do not mind telling you so.” Lady Freyja Bedwyn had been a peculiar-looking girl, with her fair unruly hair, darker eyebrows, dark-toned skin, and rather prominent nose. She still had those features. But somehow they all added up to a striking handsomeness, which Claudia resented. It would have been more just if the girl had grown into an ugly woman. Lady Hallmere smiled. “You bear a long grudge, Miss Martin,” she said. “I have rarely admired anyone as much as I did you as you marched down the driveway of Lindsey Hall on foot, carrying your baggage. I have admired you ever since. Good morning.” And she was gone in pursuit of her sisters-in-law. Well! Claudia sat at the escritoire and scratched the dog’s ears. If the woman had intended to take the wind right out of her sails and tie her tongue in knots and mix her metaphors, she had been entirely successful. But she soon turned her mind back to the Duchess of Bewcastle’s invitation and her own bright idea. Did this mean she had made some sort of decision about Lizzie Pickford? She would have to discuss it with the Marquess of Attingsborough, of course. Oh, goodness, she really was going to find it embarrassing to come face-to-face with him again. But it must be done. This was business. Was he planning to attend the Kingston ball? She was going. Susanna and Peter had told her so at breakfast, and somehow she felt caught up in this madness that was the spring Season and swept along on its current. A very large part of her longed to be back at home in Bath, back in her own familiar world. And a very small part of her remembered that kiss last night and perversely longed to linger here just a little longer. She sighed and tried to return her attention to the letter she was writing to Eleanor. The dog curled up at her feet and went back to sleep.
When Joseph arrived at the Kingston ball later that evening, the first set was already in progress. He had been delayed by Lizzie’s request for one more story and then just one more before she went to sleep. Her need for him was greater now that Miss Edwards was gone. He stood in the ballroom doorway, looking about him for familiar faces after greeting his hostess. He could see Elizabeth, the Duchess of Portfrey, off to one side, not dancing. He would have joined her, but she was in conversation with Miss Martin. In a craven moment quite unlike him, he pretended not to see them even though Elizabeth had smiled and half raised a hand. He strolled in the opposite direction instead to join Neville, who was watching Lily dance with Portfrey, her father. “You are scowling, Joe,” Neville said, raising his quizzing glass to his eye. “Am I?” Joseph offered him an exaggerated smile. “You are still scowling,” Neville said. “I know you, remember? You were not supposed to dance the opening set with Miss Hunt, by any chance, were you?” “Good Lord, no,” Joseph said. “I would not have been late if I were. I have been with Lizzie. I looked in at Wilma’s this afternoon, almost at the end of her weekly tea. All the other guests were leaving—and so I was fair game for one of her lectures.” “I suppose,” Neville said, “she thinks you ought to have secured the opening set with Miss Hunt. I have always been glad, Joe, that Wilma is your sister and Gwen mine and not the other way around.” “Thank you,” Joseph said dryly. “It was not just that, though. It was my behavior last evening.” “Last evening? At Vauxhall?” Neville raised his eyebrows. “It seems I neglected Miss Hunt in order to show a misguided kindness to the dowdy schoolteacher,” Joseph said. “Dowdy? Miss Martin?” Neville turned to look toward her. “Oh, I would not say so, Joe. She has a certain understated elegance even if she is not in the first stare of fashion or the first blush of youth. And she is dashed intelligent and well informed. Lily likes her. So does Elizabeth. And so do I. Miss Hunt said much the same as Wilma last evening, though, in Lily’s hearing. A trifle insulting to Lauren, who had invited Miss Martin to join the party, Lily thought—and so did I. But I ought not to be saying so to you, I suppose.” Joseph frowned. He had just spotted Miss Hunt. She was dancing with Fitzharris. She was wearing gold net over white silk, and the underdress draped her perfect form to give the look of a Greek goddess. The gown was cut low at the bosom to show off her main assets. Her blond curls were threaded with gold. “She is going to be at Alvesley,” he said. “Wilma wangled an invitation from La uren in Miss Hunt’s hearing, and Lauren, I suppose, had no choice at all. You know how Wilma goes about getting her own way.” “At Alvesley?” Neville said. “I suppose Lauren would have invited her anyway after your betrothal, though. That is imminent, I suppose?” “I daresay,” Joseph agreed. Neville looked at him sharply. “The funny thing was,” Joseph said, “that Wilma’s lecture included the detail that while I was entertaining Miss Martin, McLeith was charming Miss Hunt. Wilma was warning me that I might lose her if I am not careful. Apparently they looked very pleased with each other.” “Ha,” Neville said. “About to be jilted, are you, Joe? Do you want me to see if I can hasten the process?” Joseph raised his eyebrows. “Whyever would you think I might want any such thing?” he asked. Neville shrugged. “Perhaps I just know you too well, Joe,” he said. “Lady Balderston is waving this way, and I do not suppose it is at me.” “The dance is ending,” Joseph said. “I had better go and join her and ask Miss Hunt for the next set. And what the devil do you mean by saying you know me too well?” “Let me just say,” Neville said, “that I don’t think Uncle Webster does. Or Wilma. They both think you ought to marry Miss Hunt. Lily thinks just the opposite. I usually trust Lily’s instincts. Ah, the dance has ended. Off you go, then.” Nev might have kept his—and Lily’s—opinion to himself, Joseph thought irritably as he crossed the floor. It was too late not to offer for Miss Hunt even if he so desired. He proceeded to dance with her, trying not to be distracted by Miss Martin, who stood in the line of ladies just two places down the set, smiling across at McLeith, her partner. He had the feeling, though, that she was trying just as hard not to look at him. And yet again, as he had been doing at frequent intervals throughout
