Suzette wasn’t sure how she’d got so lucky, but was grateful she had.

“There. You look perfect,” Lady Woodrow pronounced, standing back to survey her handiwork.

Suzette beamed under the woman’s approving expression and peered at herself in the mirror Daniel’s mother had brought in. She wore her finest gown, a short-sleeved, empire-style dress that was so pale a pink as to be mistaken for white. On top of it she wore a sleeveless red pelisse with gold trim. Her maid, Georgina, had helped her to bathe and dress, but Lady Woodrow had then shooed the woman away and taken over helping with her hair. With it still wet from the bath, she’d worked carefully around the head wound in the hair above Suzette’s ear, and arranged her long tresses in an array of pin curls on top of her head. The effect was quite lovely.

“You are beautiful,” Lady Woodrow announced. “You and Daniel are going to give me beautiful grandbabies.”

Blushing now, Suzette laughed, and turned to hug her. “Thank you, my lady.”

“You are most welcome,” Lady Woodrow assured her, hugging her back, but then complained, “ ‘My lady’ sounds so stiff. You may call me Catherine if you wish, or—” She paused briefly and bit her lip, and then admitted, “I hope someday you will feel comfortable enough to call me Mother, but I would not pressure you to do so.”

“Thank you. I should be pleased to call you Mother,” Suzette whispered, moved by the offer. And it was true. She and Lady Woodrow had sat talking for hours the night before, after she’d returned with a meal for Suzette, only stopping when the men returned with the not unexpected news that Danvers could not be found. They had retired then, but had woken to continue their chatter as they dressed and went down to breakfast with the others and even during the carriage ride for the last leg of the journey to Gretna Green. It had taken three hours, but that time had passed in a trice for Suzette as she and Lady Woodrow chatted about books they’d read and things they liked to do, while her father and Daniel looked on smiling indulgently. Well, her father had smiled indulgently, Daniel had smiled, but his had been with a combination of indulgence and relief, and she knew it had been important to him that she and his mother like each other. Fortunately, they did. At least, she certainly liked and respected Lady Woodrow.

“Well.” Daniel’s mother gave her a slightly watery smile, and turned toward the door. “I shall go tell your father you are ready so he can come collect you.”