Patrick gave her an irrepressible grin. “I’ll attend your ladyship until that gentleman who is creeping about your house gives up and goes to find his dinner.”

“Oh. Is that Indian slang?”

“No! It’s flash talk, from the streets behind your house,” Patrick said with asperity. He had forgotten how sheltered English women were. The well-bred ones, at least.

“Oh,” Charlotte repeated. There was a knock and Molly entered again. Charlotte looked up thankfully. Patrick made her feel muddleheaded and tired. It must be the baby, she thought.

“This arrived for you, my lady.” Molly held out a somewhat worn envelope. “I thought, under the circumstances, that you would like to see it directly.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Charlotte said, taking the envelope. She knew instantly it was a letter from Alex. It was quite brief.

Dearest Charlotte, it read. I dislike writing letters, so this will be quite short. I’m afraid we have run into more problems than we anticipated. While Lucien’s business is completed, I have yet to acquire the merchandise I told you of, as it was not available in Paris. It will take a while to arrange the transfer, but then I shall be coming home.

At the bottom, written in a less formal, sprawling hand, Alex had written Beloved. And then, Alex. Charlotte stared at the letter in disbelief. This was it? An obscurely phrased note about merchandise from Paris? He must have been afraid that the letter would be intercepted, she thought. Well—but “beloved”? That must mean her. She felt a warm glow creeping over her. This was even better than Alex saying that he loved being married to her. “Beloved” is close to “I love you,” she thought. Then she realized the room had been silent for several long moments. She looked up and blushed.

“Do forgive me. It is a letter from your brother. He reports that he won’t be able to return from Italy as early as he planned. In fact”—she frowned—”he doesn’t exactly say when he thinks to return!”

“Kicking up a lark!” Alex’s brother said knowledge-ably. Then he caught Charlotte’s eye and almost blushed himself. “No, no,” he said. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sure Alex will be on the first boat back to England.”

Charlotte’s heart felt very light. “You think he’s gone on the mop?” she asked cheerfully. “Or piked the bean?”

“One ‘pikes on the bean,’” Patrick corrected, a large grin splitting his face. He had suddenly discovered that his new sister-in-law was not only lovely, but enchanting as well. “And, no, my elder brother has definitely not run off. Alex was always the more responsible of the two of us. But where in the world did a well brought-up young lady learn those terms?”

“From our third housemaid, whose name is Mall,” Charlotte replied.

“Mall … Mall is a good friend of yours?”