“How delightful for you.” Gillian beamed. “I will be happy to tell you why I’ve called you all together, but perhaps I could meet the other ladies first?”

A pert, chestnut-haired beauty next to Madelyn bounced up and gave her a sketchy curtsy. “I am Beverly Grant, my lady, and I have not seen Lord Weston in six years.”

“How nice to meet you.”

“I’m Laura Horn, m’lady,” a shy blonde said, nervously twisting her gloves and keeping her soft brown eyes lowered demurely. “I met Lord Weston eight years ago. He was very kind to me.”

“I’m sure he was. And you are?”

The last of the four raised her chin and gave Gillian a long, level look. Her hair was the color of spun flax, and she had expressive hazel eyes that were thick with dark lashes. “Anne Miller, ma’am. Lord Weston was my protector five years ago.”

Gillian was pleased; the women seemed quite civil and accommodating. Then again, given their occupation, they probably had practice in accommodation.

The dark-haired Madelyn coughed again. “Yes, my lady, we have all had practice.”

Gillian felt a blush creep up her throat. Charlotte rocked forward, clutching her sides with silent laughter. “Char, behave yourself, you’re embarrassing me.”

“I don’t believe you need my help with that, cousin,” Charlotte said, wiping back a tear.

Gillian ignored her and explained to the mistresses about the two attacks on Noble. The women all expressed surprise but seemed wary and uncomfortable, and Gillian sensed their hesitation.

“So you see, I have called you here to ask for your help.”

“Our help?” Madelyn said. “You want our help? For what, exactly?”

Gillian explained her and Charlotte’s plan. “In order to help Noble, I must first investigate his past. I intend to solve both mysteries, you see—how his beloved wife died, and who is attacking him now.”

“Do you think they are related?” Laura asked quietly.

“That’s a very perceptive question,” Gillian answered thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, I don’t know for certain, but I suspect they are. What other reason would someone have to suddenly plan a campaign against Noble? No, the source of the problem has to have its roots in his past, and that’s where you ladies can help me.”

“I’m sure we’d all like to help, madam, but it isn’t possible at this time,” Beverly said.

The other women voiced their regrets as well.

“Oh dear, I had so hoped you could help me,” Gillian said with genuine regret. It seemed the closer she got to Noble, the farther back she was pushed in her attempt to find the answers. “I realize you are all busy with your…protectors…but I—”

“It’s not that, my lady,” Beverly interrupted her. “I have no protector at this time. It’s a matter of finances, you see. We”—she looked to the other women, who all nodded at her—“we are at the mercy of the men we…accommodate, and once we lose that protection, we must rely on our own resources.”

“Oh, well, that,” Charlotte said with an airy wave of her hand. “Simply get another protector!”