He must have been in the proper home, though, because Mrs. Talbot sprang to her feet at his entrance, wincing as he tripped over the edge of the carpet and then barely steadied himself. “Mrs. Talbot!” he said, pushing his eyeglasses back up his nose. “I just found a particularly rare species of lacewing in the park. I wasn’t able to catch it, but I believe I made a creditable likeness.” He opened his sketchbook to show her, dropping his butterfly net as he did so. When he bent to retrieve the net, he dropped the sketchbook, and it would have landed square in the middle of the tea tray if Mrs. Talbot hadn’t rescued it. “Good catch, Mrs. Talbot,” he said with a laugh as he took it back from her. “I nearly spoiled your tea.” He then noticed me. “And you have company. Please forgive my intrusion.”

He started to leave, but Mrs. Talbot said firmly, “Lord Henry, this is one of the governess candidates, Miss Newton, the one from New Haven. She had an appointment this afternoon.”

“Oh dear, and I’m late. I forgot about that entirely. Do forgive me.” He turned and reached out his hand to take mine. He then had to pause and shift his sketchbook to his other hand, which made him drop his butterfly net again. When he bent to pick it up, I saw past his glasses and barely stifled a gasp. His ice-blue eyes flecked with gray and rimmed in dark blue were the same as those of the bandit from the train.

In Which I Land Amongst Magisters

IN WHICH I LAND AMONGST MAGISTERS

Lord Henry didn’t seem to notice my dismay. If he recognized me from the train, he gave no sign whatsoever. He was so calm, in fact, that I immediately began to doubt myself. He picked up his net, placed it and the sketchbook on the sofa, then took my hand and said, “I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Newton. Did your journey go smoothly?”

I recalled that the bandit had wished me a smooth journey. Was this question meant as a hint—or a warning? I felt like he was testing me. “It went smoothly enough,” I said, fighting to keep my voice even.

“I’m very glad to hear that.” He gathered up the butterfly net and sketchbook and said, “I should put my gear away. I will leave you ladies to tea and return momentarily to chat with Miss Newton.”

Mrs. Talbot gave a slight curtsy and said, “Yes, my lord.”

He shook his head. “Now, Mrs. Talbot, what do I keep telling you about that?”

“Yes, sir.” Her stiff tone indicated that she felt it wrong to be so casual with her employer, even if he was young enough to be her son.