Margaret sobered immediately. “Of course I don’t wish that, miss.” She started to brush out Gabby’s heavy locks. “None of us does, belowstairs. We’re that fond of the viscount. It doesn’t seem right, him dying off in some strange place rather than in his own bed.”

“I don’t think he’s dying,” Gabby said, rather startled. “I believe that his health is improving all the time, Margaret.”

Margaret shook her head. “Once a person has one of those attacks, there’s another right around the corner, miss. He should be home where he belongs, that’s what. We all think so.”

“I’m sure he’ll return to London just as soon as the doctors think it advisable,” Gabby murmured, rather shocked by Margaret’s comment. “And I certainly hope you are wrong about the possibility of future attacks.”

Margaret set her mouth obstinately and would only repeat her belief that the viscount ought to have been brought home by now.

The viscountess arrived from Bath just in time to join the family for supper. At first Gabby was very glad for the interruption, because she and Peter were avoiding each other’s eyes in a tedious fashion. She could only assume that Quill had caught his brother after their ride in the park and informed him that the betrothal was at an end.

But Kitty’s news was not good, and it seemed that Margaret had, in fact, been correct in her lugubrious prediction. Apparently Thurlow had slipped into a state of confusion, from which he was roused only with difficulty He seemed to sleep most of the time, and the doctors held out very little hope for recovery.

Gabby looked at her hands, uncertain how to offer sympathy. Peter stood behind his mother’s chair, gripping her shoulders. And Quill stood alone, next to the mantelpiece. What she really wanted to do was to walk over to Quill and take his hand. But she stayed next to Lady Sylvia on the settee.

This time Kitty wasn’t the least hysterical, and she did not weep as she told them the news.

“How much time has he got, Kitty?” Lady Sylvia’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

Kitty’s blue eyes were bleak. “Likely only a few days.” She paused and the words sank into the room’s silence.

“You and the boys should leave tonight,” Lady Sylvia said after a moment.

Kitty turned to Gabby. “My dear, I am terribly regretful that this unhappy event has occurred during your first weeks in England.”

“Oh, no! It is of no account. I am sorry, my lady….I am so sorry to hear of the viscount’s health.”

“You are a sweet girl, Gabrielle. I am sure you will be a great comfort to me.”