“He’s gone too far this time,” she warned the unconscious Wills a few scant seconds before she doused him with her wash water. He sputtered and came to life only to see his new mistress glowering over him, speaking in a voice that got progressively louder and higher with each word that slipped from her cherry-kissed lips. “I have been patient with his eccentric ways, I have been understanding of his pinch-paring habits, I have been everything a good wife could possibly be, but he goes too far in asking me to take on a twelve-year-old boy as my lady’s maid!”

“M’lady?” Wills squeaked in concern, scooting backward across the damp rug, praying that Lady Carlisle wasn’t about to bring the empty ewer down upon his head.

Char dropped the ewer, grabbed the boy by his wet ear, hauled him to his feet, and demanded to be taken to her husband.

“Oi don’ know where ’e is,” the lad cried, flinching as she steered him toward the stairs. “’Onest, m’lady, oi don’ know where ’is lordship is!”

Charlotte tightened her grip on the slippery ear. “If you want to see this ear again, you had better find out, hadn’t you?”

The boy started to nod, decided that wasn’t the wisest course of action when the future of his ear was at stake, and began to wail instead.

“Please, m’lady, Oi’ve told you Oi don’ know where ’e is. You’ve got to believe me. Oi don’ know and that’s a fact. Please, m’lady, Oi want me ear, it’s the only one Oi’ve got, don’ take it away from me!”

Charlotte paused at the top of the stairs. The boy was openly sniffling now, wiping his nose on his sleeve. She released his ear and took hold of the back of his jacket, turning to march down the opposite end of the hallway, still retaining hold of the boy when she stopped before a door and knocked.

A tiny red-haired maid opened the door, gawked at Wills for a second before bobbing a respectful curtsy to Charlotte. Behind the maid, Patricia rose from where she was seated at a low table, clearly in the process of being readied for bed.

“Charlotte? Is something wrong? Why is Wills crying?”

“He has something wrong with his ear,” Charlotte said abruptly. “Where is your brother?”

Patricia stopped midway across the room, her hands fluttering in distress. “My brother? Dare? You want to know where Dare is? He’s not with you?”

Charlotte raised her chin, narrowed her eyes, and pinned her new sister-in-law with a look that had Patricia taking a wary step backward. “He is not with me. Since I have only been in this house for an hour and have not yet been given a tour of the premises and since Wills seems to be obsessed with talk of his ear and wiping his nose on his garments in a manner that makes me want to do nothing so much as wash my hands, I must ask your advice. I am doing so now. Where might I find my husband, your brother, the earl?”