It was late when they arrived at the house that Steve had leased in a fashionable section of London, one of the comfortable houses on Bruton Street that were not ostentatious but spacious and welcoming. Pink sandstone gleamed in the pale glow of the moon that peeked from behind swirling wisps of cloud, dimly illuminating the street as their carriage rolled to a halt. A gas lamp sputtered fitfully against the shadows.

Midsummer was usually warm in London, but tonight it was cool, and Ginny pulled her silk shawl up around her shoulders as she descended from the carriage and went into the house. Small pools of lamplight gleamed on black-and-white tile floors of the entrance hall, and out of the shadows stepped the maid to welcome them.

“You are up late, Berthilde,” Ginny said with a slight frown. “Are the children all right?”

The tiny woman built like a sparrow nodded as she took Ginny’s silk shawl. “Oui, madame. It is just that Laura woke and the lamps were out, and Madame Dupree asked me to fetch her some warm milk to calm her.”

“Another nightmare?” Steve started toward the stairs.

Ginny followed, lifting her skirts in a whispery rustle of satin as she tried to keep up with his long strides. Feet clad in emerald satin the same shade as her gown skimmed up the stairs, but Steve took the stairs two at a time, and she was breathless by the time they reached the nursery on the second floor. A soft breeze belled lace curtains over open windows. The lights were on and bright, revealing a tousle-haired Laura sitting up in bed and Madame Dupree trying to coax her to lie down. The nurse turned to Steve, exasperation in her eyes.

“She is quite all right, Monsieur Morgan,” she said briskly, “except that she is stubborn to a fault. She refuses to go back to sleep unless you are here. It is not a trait to encourage in the child, and I suggest that you—”

“Madame Dupree, I suggest that you close that window and then go back to your room. I will take care of my daughter now. If you have any more suggestions, you may make them to your next employer.”

Madame Dupree grasped his meaning immediately, and her mouth closed with an audible snap. Wisely, she made no other comment, but went to close the window and then left the room.

Laura had quieted immediately upon seeing her father, and dimpled as she smiled up at him. “You are very late, Papa. Was the party nice?”

“You little imp, what are you doing awake at this hour? Was it the dream again?”

“Yes, only this time, I got away.” A shadow flickered on the child’s face, and her eyes darkened. “It was a bad man who would not let us go, even when I told him I wanted to go home.”