“Flora!” her uncle chided.

I looked directly at Flora and said, “My mother passed away recently after a yearlong illness, through which I nursed her. I needed a change of environment after that.” Flora’s haughty expression melted into a guilty wince.

Lord Henry jumped in to salvage the awkward moment, saying, “Miss Newton is quite well-read. Perhaps if you spend time with her, you’ll learn to talk about something other than what color dress you’ll be wearing.”

Flora’s glare chilled me. I could tell she had no desire to chat with me about anything and she resented the implication that I was in any way superior to her. “Well, obviously she won’t be able to chat with me about dresses,” she said with a toss of her hair. I had to admit she was right. I’d worn my most professional-looking gray dress, but even my fanciest party frock would look mousy next to Flora’s day dress.

Lord Henry didn’t seem to realize that she’d insulted me, and I supposed that in his world there was nothing wrong with not being able to discuss dresses. “There are many more worthy topics of conversation,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll soon realize that.”

Not likely, said Flora’s sidelong glance at me, and I hoped my performance wouldn’t be evaluated based on my success with her.

As we left the dining room after the meal, Lord Henry stopped me. “I’m sure you’ve had a very long day. You’re free for the rest of the evening. Breakfast is served in the breakfast room beginning at seven—I’m an early riser—and Rollo must be at school by nine. Mrs. Talbot will give you directions so you don’t have to rely on him.” He added with a crooked smile, “He’d probably lead you to the airfield or the docks and claim it was his school.”

*   *   *

The next morning, I found the breakfast room with only a few wrong turns. Lord Henry was already there, sitting alone at the table. He glanced up from his newspaper as I entered and greeted me with a smile. “Good morning, Miss Newton. I trust you slept well. Your room is comfortable?”

“Yes, very, thank you.”

“Breakfast is on the sideboard. Would you care for coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

He gestured to a footman, who left and then reappeared a moment later with a pot of tea and a cup on a tray, along with a small rack of toast. Rollo soon entered the room, yawning loudly. He wore a school uniform with a wide white collar, and his hair was slicked tight against his head. He filled his plate with food, then sat beside his uncle, appropriating a section of the newspaper that Lord Henry had already read and put aside. Rollo hadn’t read much before he shouted, “Ye gods!”