She returned the pressure, gripping his fingers. "Trevelyan," she said suddenly and hoarsely. "I am so proud of you."

He maintained his smile down at her, finding nothing to say.

"You have succeeded where even… your grandfa ther failed. I wish only that he and your father were alive to see it."

Trev gave a slight shrug. "I was fortunate."

"To regain the whole! Even Monceaux!" She struggled to sit up and began to cough.

"Do not be carried away by raptures, I beg you," he said. He stood and propped pillows about her. "Save that for when I take you back to Monceaux in a gilded coach, with half a dozen outriders and three footmen up behind."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She smiled, breathing with difficulty. Her fingers trembled as she put her hand on his arm. "You know that's not to be."

"Only two outriders, then. Elegant economy!"

"Trevelyan—"

"Come, do not quarrel with me. I cross the sea to your side, and you refuse to accompany me to dance, you will not eat—I've been forced to apply for rein forcements. Lady Callista desired me to say that she will be here presently."

"Ah, she is too good."

"Indeed, she is an angel. If she can produce a supper, I shall marry her out of hand."

"I'm certain that she can." His mother breathed deeply. "But… three engagements in one evening, my love?"

"No, do you think it excessive?" he asked in surprise.

"Trevelyan." She smiled up at him. "I am so happy." She held tight to his hand as her chuckle turned into a gasping cough.

Two

Two

MRS. ADAM HAD NOT HESITATED A MOMENT WHEN SHE heard. Disapprove she might of Callie waltzing in the arms of a suspiciously French émigré, but the news that Mrs. Easley had succumbed to the bottle again was sufficient to excuse all. "That woman!" she hissed, uttering everyone's favored description of Mrs. Easley. "Take Lilly with you. Tell her to fetch the arrowroot custard that I meant for midday dinner. That will do well for Madame's lungs, the poor lamb!"

Armed with the custard and a mission, Callie did not feel so shy as she made her way into the back door of Dove House. She was always better when she had a task at hand.

While Lilly swung the lantern so that shadows f lew all over the scullery, Callie wrinkled her nose at the odor of sour milk issuing from a pail on the f loor. The air was cold and damp, the hearth a dark pile of abandoned ashes.