And then came the true test. There is nothing quite like a gloomy, rainy day indoors to set my teeth on edge, particularly outside my own home. The usual indoor occupations of a genteel female guest—needlework, gossip, and artistic endeavors—were far from my favorite activities. If it had just been Charlotte and Julia, the time would have passed tolerably well. I could have read or gone to the stables to view the horses with their blessing. However, in a hurried whispered conversation among the three of us on the stairs before breakfast, we decided to keep Mrs. Ellis-Brant close to us throughout the day. An admirable plan to save Miss Grant and Hester from her presence.

The problem with that plan, however, was that Mrs. Ellis-Brant was close to us the entire day. Although I dearly wanted to escape the confines of the drawing room, I could not, in all honor, abandon Charlotte and Julia to her shrill company. It transpired that Mrs. Ellis-Brant had her own goals: to poke Julia about her health, slander Mr. Talbot in as many insidious ways as possible, and pass uncharitable judgment upon our mutual acquaintances.

By the time it came to dressing for dinner, even Charlotte was a little short with her cousin-by-law. We all parted at the staircase for our various dressing rooms, three of us breathing deep sighs of relief.

As was the custom of country living, the ladies were to meet the gentlemen in the drawing room before being escorted to the dining table. My sister, although still suffering a headache, had elected to come down to dinner. We met upon the landing, ready to descend. She had chosen an apricot silk gown with gold lace, the color adding some warmth to her pallor. I had chosen my favorite royal blue gown, its Grecian column cut swathed in silver net embroidered with stars and well suited to my tall, angular figure. Tully had also added some diamond star clips into my tonged curls, a decoration I had not indulged in for some time.

“I have not seen that gown in a while,” my sister whispered as we descended the stairs to the drawing room. “Is it for Lord Evan?”

“Maybe,” I said, feeling unaccustomedly coy.

My sister smiled and patted my arm. “Well, you look magnificent, my dear.”

The footman opened the drawing room doors to the sound of male voices.

“Ah, Lady Augusta, Lady Julia,” Porty said loudly.

The conversation stopped as we entered. A scan of the assembled gentlemen brought first the warm welcome of Evan’s gaze—my heart beating a little harder at that brief connection—then Mr. Ellis-Brant’s genial countenance, and then two faces I did not know. Two faces and two red uniforms.

“Allow me to introduce Captain William Morland and Lieutenant Henry Powers,” Porty continued, “currently in charge of the company who are dealing with the Luddites in the area.”