Rose sounded genuinely worried that their six-year-old brother might beat her to the altar. Which only made Violet want to shake some sense into the foolish girl.
Patience. Rose was a master-level course in patience.
“Well,” Violet said after a deep breath, “she’s not going to get me to take Rowan to Lakefield again. He was miserable.” The blurred figures were getting bigger. “Faith. They’re coming inside. All of them. Even Father.”
The music stopped as Lily stood, looking puzzled. “Why shouldn’t they come inside?”
“I…no reason.” The sudden quiet was unsettling. Violet drew a deep breath and found herself smoothing her russet skirts, which wasn’t like her. She pulled her plait forward to drape over one shoulder and twirled the end fitfully, then dropped her hand as Lady Jewel bounded into the room ahead of the adults.
The girl skidded to a stop on the carpeted floor, backing Violet against the window seat in her enthusiasm. “Lady Violet!” Throwing her arms wide, she hugged her around the knees. “Where’s Rowan?”
“Having his lessons.” Looking down into that little heart-shaped face, Violet couldn’t help but be charmed. “Would you care to meet my sisters? This is Lady Rose and Lady Lily.”
“I’m pleased to make your ac-quain-tance,” Jewel said quite properly. Violet’s sisters exchanged an amused glance as the girl bobbed a curtsy. “This room is very fancy,” she said.
It was, Violet supposed, though having lived here most of her life, she didn’t think about it much. They stood on a lovely gold-and-cream-toned Oriental carpet. The room’s dark oak paneling was studded with gold rosettes, the ceiling’s cornice heavily carved and gilded, the furniture upholstered in gold-and-cream silk damask. From where she stood, the details looked fuzzy, but she’d seen it all up close.
“Why, thank you,” Mum said from the doorway.
Jewel rocked up on her toes. “When will Rowan be finished with his schooling?”
“Later today, I’m afraid. He has another lesson after dinner.”
“Arithmetic,” Rose said. “He hates it.”
“A fifth picnic, you say?” Her father looked to Mum with a frown. “And right after dinner? I know a growing boy needs plenty to eat, Chrysanthemum, but surely—”
“Arithmetic,” Mum repeated loudly, laying a hand on Father’s arm. “We were talking about Rowan’s schooling, and how he hates mathematics.” Barely suppressing a smile, she turned back to their guests. “Poor Rowan. I’ve promised him a sweet after the lesson.”
Jewel tugged on her uncle’s sleeve. “Can Rowan come to our house for a sweet? Oh, puleeeeeze?”
Lord Lakefield grinned down at his niece, a grin Violet suddenly wished were aimed at her instead. It was broad and white and utterly sincere, extending all the way to his brilliant blue eyes. “Excellent idea, baby,” he said.
When Mum smiled, Violet could see it coming.
Oh, no.
Trying to look casual, Violet wandered over to a wall and leaned against the dark paneling, then shot straight when one of the gold rosette studs jabbed her in the behind. “I don’t believe Rowan will be interested,” she blurted out, not nearly as composed as she’d planned.
Mum’s smile only widened. “I’m sure Rowan would love to visit for a sweet,” she said to Lord Lakefield, as though Violet hadn’t spoken. “Will three o’clock suit you? Madame is due here this afternoon for another fitting for Lily and Rose, but Violet will be happy to bring him.”
Jewel jumped up and down.
“What?” Father asked loudly. “What was that about gingham?”
When Violet made a pained noise, no one took heed.
NINE
IN THE THREE hours since Ford and Jewel had arrived back at Lakefield, his niece had suddenly become very thick with Harry, Ford’s elderly houseman. Although Ford knew better than to hope that the old man and girl would become fast friends, he’d jumped at the chance for a brief respite. Now, settled in his attic laboratory, he paused to listen to little giggles floating through the open window.
“Yes,” he heard Harry say, “this is perfect. It’s the exact color of the upholstery.”
Were they redecorating? Ford wondered vaguely.
“Oh, good!” The sound of clapping hands accompanied Jewel’s childish voice. “We must hurry, then, so there will be time for it to start drying. And we need something fun to put at his place, so he won’t be looking.”
“Brilliant, Lady Jewel. I’ve just the thing…”
Their voices faded around a corner of the manor. Ford shook his head. Whatever they were doing to his house, they couldn’t possibly make it look worse. Deciding to ignore them, he refocused on the tiny, intricate gears laid out on his worktable. Finally, he had some peace and quiet.
Watches were so inefficient—the single hand only approximated the hour. Within the last few years, another hand had been added to clocks, one that ticked off the minutes and made time-keeping much more precise. But since watches weren’t pendulum-driven, the mechanism that drove a clock’s minute hand wouldn’t work inside them.
Yet it should be possible to add a minute hand to a watch. A more accurate personal timepiece would be practical, functional—a true benefit to mankind. And after months of trial and error, of scrapped designs and precise calculations and late nights, he was so close to making it work. So close to accomplishing something useful…
“Your guests have arrived, my lord.” Bustling in, Hilda started flicking a dust rag at his various instruments. “Don’t you think you should be downstairs?”
ROWAN CLINGING to her skirts, Violet followed Jewel toward Lord Lakefield’s dining room, wondering how it was that Mum had talked her into dragging the poor boy here again.
And her maid Margaret hadn’t even come along this time! Mum had given the woman half a day off. Margaret was being courted, and Mum—who had introduced her to the “nice footman” from a neighboring estate—thought this a perfect chance for the maid to spend some time with her beau.
How very like Mum to risk her own daughter’s reputation for the
