Attie knew Poll still thought he was in love with Miranda, which was idiotic but very Poll. He was the most powerfully loyal of them all. It made sense that he would cling to his original feelings long past the point of logic or reason.

She had known that Poll would not learn to live with Miranda's choice of Castor unless he came home to confront their absurdly close relationship and see it for what it was — true love. Having accomplished her aim of bringing Poll home, she must now resolve Lysander's absence before that highly suspicious Yorkshire person managed to set her hooks into Lysander's breakable soul.

Mr. Worthington might best be served by remaining out of the public for some time.

Hmph! As if being away from Worthington House could possibly be good for him! Who did she think she was, claiming their brother should remain "out of the public" as if he were fearsome or dangerous? There was nothing wrong with Lysander that time with his family couldn't fix!

Attie considered the problem as she looked over at Poll. "You should go fetch Lysander home," she said bluntly. "After all, this is your fault."

Poll stared at her. "How is this my fault? If it's anyone's fault, it's yours! You told him to come after me, when you didn't even know if he could find me! You should go!"

Callie rolled her eyes at her younger brother. "That's ridiculous, Poll. She's fourteen. She can't go alone."

"She's more dangerous than any bandit," Poll growled. "They should be afraid of her!"

Attie didn't smile, although matters were proceeding precisely to plan. People smiled too much and then it stopped meaning anything at all. "I'll go alone."

That flat, determined statement made them all go a bit wide-eyed and alarmed, except for Iris and Archie, of course, who were still mooning at each other — which made Attie's heart hurt a little in a glad way.

She ignored the flying protests and reasons and urgent convincing arguments regarding the importance of blah-blah-blah and simply waited.

"It's settled then," Callie said finally. She glanced at Dade, who nodded, for Iris was beginning to fade. "Attie and Poll will go."

"You'll need dear Button, darlings."

They all turned to look at Iris, whose eyes sparkled knowingly at them in one of those random sharp moments that lanced through her usual dreaminess from time to time.

"What does Button have to do with any of this?" Dade frowned. "It isn't as though anyone will be needing a fashion authority on a rescue mission."

"Oh my dear boy." Iris waved a graceful hand. "One never knows, does one?"

"YORKSHIRE?" BUTTON BLINKED IN bemusement. "As in the Shire of York? All swooping valleys and looming hills?"