“Auntie Kendra told me about Jupiter. But not moons.”
“She was talking about the Roman god.” Knowing his twin’s love of mythology, she’d likely traumatized the poor girl with bloody tales of Jupiter slaying wretched souls with his thunderbolts. “I’m talking about the planet.”
“Like Earth?”
“But much bigger. I can show you with my telescope. And I can show you Saturn, too, which has rings around it. Galileo was the first to notice those.”
“That doesn’t sound boring.”
Behind her, he smiled. “It’s riveting, I assure you. Did you know all the planets go around the sun?”
“Mama told me that.”
“Well, another man named Nicolas Copernicus thought so first, but Galileo wrote a book to explain it.”
“Galileo is lucky,” she said. “Your horse, I mean. To be named after a special man.” She leaned forward to stroke the animal’s jet-black mane, which matched her own dark, wavy tresses. “Rowan is named for a tree.”
“Did he tell you so?”
“No. He wouldn’t talk to me.” Ford could hear the pout in her voice. “But when you were out of the room, his sister told me that in her family, the girls are named for flowers and the boy is named for a tree.”
“That’s because their father loves to garden,” he told her as Trentingham Manor came into view.
A wide lawn studded with shade trees sat between the river and the sprawling, red-brick mansion, its uneven skyline and irregular patterned brickwork the result of a century of alterations. In the extensive gardens set around it, Ford spotted a well-dressed man fiddling with a rose bush.
“In fact,” he said, “I’d wager that’s Lord Trentingham there now.”
Ford hadn’t seen the Earl of Trentingham in quite a few years, but as they rode nearer, he could see where Rowan had inherited his looks. The earl’s dark hair glistened in the warm summer sun. He looked up, raising a hand to swipe at his receding, sweat-slicked hairline.
“Who goes there?” he asked when Ford reined in beside him.
“Viscount Lakefield, my lord. Ford Chase.” Ford slid off Galileo, taking Jewel with him. “And this is my niece, Lady Jewel Chase.” The moment he set her on her feet, she raced to a nearby fountain and thrust her hands into the spurting water.
The earl narrowed his green eyes. “Eh?”
“A long time since we’ve met, my lord.” Smiling, Ford held out a hand.
Though the man shook it warmly, he still looked perplexed. “What? What did you say?”
Too late Ford remembered Violet had mentioned her father was hard of hearing. “Ford Chase!” he fairly yelled. “I’m glad to see you!”
Jewel splashed herself in the face as her eyes popped open wide. Then she giggled, and her lips parted in a grin. “Jewel Chase!” she shouted, clearly thinking it was a game.
The earl bowed. “I’m glad of your acquaintance, young lady!” he hollered back.
“Joseph!” Lady Trentingham rounded the corner of the mansion. “How many times must I remind you the rest of us can hear just fine?” Laughing softly, she came close and kissed him on the cheek. “You forgot your hat,” she added, plopping a wide-brimmed specimen on his head.
“My thanks, love.” Apparently grateful for the shade, the earl clipped a blood-red bloom and presented it to his wife with a flourish.
“Just what I needed,” she murmured. But the smile she sent her husband was genuine.
“I’m wearing your perfume,” Jewel piped up.
The countess turned to her. “Well, then, come closer, and let me see if it’s the right scent for such a lovely girl.”
Jewel ran right over, wiping her wet palms on her dress. “Do I smell good?”
Lady Trentingham leaned down and sniffed. “You smell glorious.”
A radiant smile transformed Jewel’s face. “Will Rowan like it, do you think?”
“She’s rather fond of your son,” Ford said.
“So my daughter told me.” Lady Trentingham’s eyes danced as she looked up at him. “She also told me the feeling was less than mutual.”
“I’m afraid she was right,” he lamented. “And I was so hoping the children would get along.”
“I’d wager you were.” She looked contemplative. “Men, you know, they sometimes take a while to come around.” Her husband had resumed puttering about, but her gaze on him was unmistakably affectionate. “My Rowan takes after his father, I’m afraid, but I’m sure, given time, he’ll come to appreciate this delightful young lady.”
Ford watched as Jewel went back to the fountain, sighing when she splashed her dress. Another change of clothing in his future. He could already hear Hilda complaining about the additional laundry and ironing. And him having nothing to do but listen, because he couldn’t get a stitch of work done with a child running loose.
“Lady Trentingham…” Desperation setting in, he favored her with one of his most charming smiles. “Do you suppose your son might give Jewel another chance?”
EIGHT
PERCHING A KNEE on one of the window seats in the gold-and-cream-toned drawing room, Violet peered out the window at the blur she knew was the viscount and her parents.
“What do you think they’re saying?” she asked her sisters.
Rose pressed closer to the panes, fussing with a floral arrangement she’d set in the window niche. “They seem to be discussing that little girl who’s playing in the fountain.”
“Lady Jewel,” Violet said. “The one I told you about who fancies herself in love with Rowan.”
Lily’s fingers idled over the harpsichord keys, producing a soft, slow melody. “How sweet.”
“How absurd,” Rose countered. “She’s too young to be in love. Unlike me.” She patted her deep chestnut curls. “I say, that gentleman out there looks rather fine. Although a bit lanky, don’t you think?”
“He’s too intellectual for you anyhow,” Violet snapped, then wondered why she should suddenly be so short-tempered. ”Does Mum look like she’s pleased to see them?”
Lily didn’t miss a note as she looked up and out the window. “Very.”
Rose leaned her hands on the sill. “Now Lord Lakefield has lifted the girl, and
