Her smile was rueful. “Yes, but how can I wish for the death of the woman who saved Caitlin’s life and has raised her ever since? A woman whom Katie loves as her mother. What kind of woman would that make me?”

“It would make you a woman who is much less than you are.”

Embarrassed, she looked away. “Even if I wanted to take her away, where would I take her? I don’t have a real home now, and I’m in the midst of a major scandal that may warp my life forever. Katie is best off here, with people who love her.”

“Surely you will want to be part of her life?”

“Oh, yes!” She looked wistful. “I do so want her to meet her brother. And for Christopher to meet his sister.”

“That will likely happen eventually, but not as soon as you’d like,” he predicted.

The door to the bedroom opened and Katie emerged. She looked like a different child, her eyes bright and her movements confident. She bobbed a curtsy to Lucas. “Mr. Mandeville.” Her gaze moved to Kendra and she said hesitantly, “Lady Denshire?”

“I was once Lady Denshire,” Kendra replied, “but now I’m Kendra Douglas, the name I was born with.”

Katie bobbed her a curtsy as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, ma’am.”

Lucas smiled at her earnest formality. Before he could reply, the cat he’d briefly glimpsed earlier wound itself around Katie’s ankles, then looked up with matching earnestness.

It was the oddest-looking cat he’d ever seen, with wild splotches of black, orange, and white. One front leg was solid black, the other striped orange, the neck was white, and its face was diagonally divided into black and orange. Knowing better than to insult the child’s pet, he said, “That may be the most unusual-looking cat in Britain.”

“Yes, isn’t she pretty?” Katie scooped the cat up in her arms. “My mama says God used all the colors left over from other cats to make her special. I named her Patches.”

“A good name,” Kendra said, wondering if it was mere coincidence that Christopher’s beloved pony had the same name. She offered her fingers to sniff and received a raspy tongue lick in return. “Is she hungry?”

“Yes, and so am I.” Katie spoke clearly, sounding older than her years. She looked at the food on the table. “Maggie usually sends over a sweet cake for me. Did she do that today?”

“Yes, but I think you need some proper food first,” Kendra said, sounding very maternal. “Perhaps a bowl of soup along with some bread and cheese?”

“Oh, yes, please!”