“But I must. Most women in your place would have thrown the three of us out on our ears.”

“But Helen, this is your home.”

“No,” Helen said quietly, “Wycombe Abbey is your home. We are your guests.”

“This is your home.” Ellie's tone was firm, but she smiled as she spoke. “And if I ever again hear you say otherwise, I shall have to strangle you.”

Helen looked as if she were about to say something, then she closed her mouth. A moment later, however, she said, “Claire hasn't told me why she behaved as such, although I have a good idea.”

“I suspect you do,” Ellie said quietly.

“Thank you for not embarrassing her before Charles.”

“She didn't need her heart broken twice.”

Helen was saved from further reply by Judith, who crawled out from under the table. “I squashed the bug!” she chirped. “He was huge. And very fierce.”

“There was no bug, poppet, and you know it,” Ellie said.

“Did you know that bugs like butter-cream frosting?”

“So do little girls, I understand.”

Judith pursed her lips, clearly not happy with the direction of the conversation.

“I think I hear them!” Helen whispered furiously. “Be quiet, everyone.”

The threesome stood to the side of the doorway, watching and listening with anticipation. Within moments Claire's voice became clear.

“You will see that I have made great progress in the orangery,” she was saying.

“Yes,” came Charles's voice, growing louder, “but wouldn't it be faster to have gone through the east hall?”

“There was a maid waxing the floor,” Claire replied, very quickly. “I'm sure it's slippery.”

“Bright girl,” Ellie whispered to Helen.

“We can just cut through the informal dining room,” Claire continued. “It's almost as fast, and…”

The door began to open.

“Surprise!” yelled the four female residents of Wycombe Abbey.

Charles did indeed look surprised—for about one moment. Then he looked rather vexed as he turned to Ellie and demanded, “What the devil are you doing out of bed?”

“And a happy birthday to you, too,” she said acerbically.

“Your hands—”

“—do not seem to be hindering my ability to walk in the least.” She smiled wryly. “Rather remarkable, that.”

“But—”

Helen, in an uncharacteristically impatient gesture, swatted Charles lightly on the back of his head. “Hush up, cousin, and enjoy your party.”

Charles looked at the gaggle of females looking at him with expectant faces and realized that he'd been the worst kind of boor. “Thank you, all of you,” he said. “I am honored that you have gone to such lengths to celebrate my birthday.”

“We couldn't let it pass without at least a cake,” Ellie said. “Judith and I chose the frosting. Buttercream.”

“Did you?” he said approvingly. “Smart girls.”

“I painted you a picture!” Judith exclaimed. “With my watercolors.”

“Did you, poppet?” He kneeled down by her side. “It's lovely. Why, it looks just like…just like…” He looked to Helen, Claire, and Ellie for help, but they all just shrugged.

“Like the stables!” Judith said excitedly.