“I’m Alexander,” piped up the third child. He had sweet eyes and a lock of hair that fell over his eyes just as the duke’s hair had done in the middle of the night.

“These three are, obviously, children of the second duchess,” Lady Knowe said briskly. “Including baby Joan at home.”

“Do you have three?” the duke bellowed from the second carriage.

“Yes!” roared back his sister. “We always double-check,” she said to Ophelia.

“Did you ever leave a child behind?” Ophelia asked, telling herself that she was deeply happy not to be stepmother to so many children, especially Leonidas, who had clambered up on his knees and was precariously leaning over the rear of the sleigh.

“Get down, Leo!” Lady Knowe ordered.

Rather to Ophelia’s surprise, he obeyed.

A groom came by to slip hot bricks under their feet. He draped heavy furs over Lady Knowe and Ophelia, and tucked a large one around the three children.

The sleighs jolted into motion, runners squeaking on the ice.

“Did we leave a child behind?” Lady Knowe laughed. “We started having trouble keeping track of them as soon as there were more than six. I hope your daughter doesn’t sleep through the entire sleigh ride.”

Their sleigh was following a path pounded smooth that ran along the side of the Thames, passing the pleasure gardens of palatial houses.

“It’s probably best that she does,” Ophelia said. “I don’t care to think about her reaction if she wakes up in the arms of a stranger and I’m not there.”

“Will she scream?” Betsy asked with interest. “’Cause my sister Joan screams all the time.”

“Very likely,” Ophelia said, liking her open face. “I suspect you screamed a great deal when you were that age as well.”

“A reasonable amount,” Lady Knowe said. “Leonidas, if you fall out of the sleigh, you’ll have to eat dinner in bed for a week.”

“But look!” Leonidas cried, pointing out the back.

Ophelia leaned forward. A boy had caught a rope behind their sleigh and was flying on the ice behind them, his skates throwing up plumes of shaved ice.

“I want to try!” Leonidas cried.

“That’s dangerous,” she said.

“But so much fun! Don’t you see?” He looked at her, his little-boy face screwed up with earnestness.

“Yes, I do,” Ophelia said. “We don’t want him to be hurt, though, do we?”

Lady Knowe had already tapped the sleigh driver on the shoulder and he was slowing to a halt. Ophelia stood up and looked over the back of the sleigh.

“His coat isn’t very nice,” Betsy said. “Do you have any money?”

Ophelia thrust her hand down into the pockets that hung under her skirts and fished out a guinea. “Here you are.”