“It won’t be easy; he’s a long road to travel. There’s bound to be highwaymen about, trying to drive you from your path.”

Gillian found herself drawn into the deep, deep blue of his eyes. They were so clear, so pure, it was like looking into the eyes of a child. What was his connection to Noble? How did he know that Noble had a long journey ahead of him? “I know there will be; we’ve already met with one. I hope, however, that we will make the journey together.”

The old man nodded, and gave her arm another poke.

“Tell me, sir, if you would—you must be acquainted with Noble if you know of his troubles.”

“Aye, that I do.”

“Then perhaps you would tell me—do you think I will be successful in my quest?”

The sapphire eyes slowly turned away from her and gazed out into the crush of people meandering by. “You’ll need to uncover secrets, gel.”

“Secrets?”

“Aye, secrets and lies, each begetting the other, one ending where the other begins. If you can figure out that puzzle, you will be successful.”

She pondered his answer for a moment, decided it was, on the whole, optimistic, and smiled and gave his hand a little squeeze. She was about to ask him how he knew Noble when Charlotte found her.

“Dearest cousin, you’ll never guess what Mama…for heaven’s sake, Gilly, can’t you keep those gloves on for five minutes? Oh, never mind them, come with me. I have the most shocking news to tell you!”

Gillian was appalled by her cousin’s rudeness to the old man, but before she could protest, Charlotte dragged her off to a relatively quiet corner near an alcove containing a bust of Paris.

“What is it, Char? I was having a fascinating conversation…”

Charlotte’s face screwed up suddenly as she whipped around to face the wall while she bit back the beginning of tears. Gillian put her arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring little squeeze. “Oh, blast, I’m sorry, Char, it’s so warm in here, my hands must be perspiring…I’m sure that will come out.”

Charlotte stared as her cousin tried to wipe the blue fingerprints off the silver tulle on her shoulder. “Gilly! This goes beyond your normal ineptitude and lack of social graces! What are we going to do? Papa just told Mama not to have you present me to anyone. Gillian—”

Charlotte turned and started to take her cousin’s hands in hers, then remembered the paint. She made a quick check of Gillian’s arms, then clutched her by the elbows instead. “Gillian, you don’t seem to recognize how serious things are for Weston. He’s been cut by just about everyone, Papa says, and soon won’t be recognized by anyone nice.”

“Countess Lieven said he’d always be welcome.”

“Countess Lieven says one thing one day and another the next. Gillian, you don’t seem to understand the gravity of this situation—if Lord Weston continues to be persona non grata, I won’t be able to be seen with you.”