“Will you be out all day, Mr. Talbot?” Charlotte asked, adding a little edge to her tone.

“I believe so,” Evan said.

“I have arranged Callista for you to ride, Lady Augusta,” Charlotte said. Our eyes met fleetingly; Callista was one of her best, with excellent stamina and good speed. With some care she would manage the distance to and from Blackburn.

“Thank you, Lady Davenport.”

With one last lingering look at Evan, Charlotte departed. The Ermine followed, her own last look directed at me and full of smug collusion. I smiled conspiratorially over the rim of my coffee cup. I suspected Emelia Ellis-Brant had never had help in her meddling before and she was delighting in a comrade in harm. Although I did not like the woman, it was, in truth, a little sad.

“You may go now, thank you,” I said to Hanford, the butler, dismissing him and the three footmen.

With bows, they left the room.

As soon as the door closed and we were alone, Julia sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Thank goodness Emelia is gone. Her voice is so…so shrill.” She took her gold pillbox from her lap. “Last night’s guests were rather unexpected: Captain Morland and his lieutenant. I was so strained throughout the whole meal.”

I had already discussed the evening with my sister, after we had retired to bed, but clearly she still had some residual fear.

Evan looked up from his ham. “I agree, it was a difficult meal, but I have now spent an entire evening with them—including an extended after-dinner port session—and they have not questioned my identity.”

“The captain is not stupid, though,” I said. “I think it best to avoid him.”

Evan nodded his agreement. “I cannot foresee meeting him again.”

“How long do you think it will take you to find Dr. Lawrence?” Julia asked, flicking open the box lid and tapping out one of the bright blue pills.

“I would say we will get to Blackburn in under four hours,” Evan said, eyeing the pill in her cupped hand. “May I ask, is that a blue mass tablet?”

“Yes,” Julia said, then added quickly, “Prescribed by Dr. Thorgood.”

“Does Dr. McLeod concur with that prescription?”

Julia looked pointedly across at me. “I am not Dr. McLeod’s patient,” she said crisply. “Nor am I yours, Mr. Talbot.” She placed the tablet in her mouth and, with a swift swig of tea, swallowed it.

Evan subsided. He recognized an explosive subject when he heard one. “If all goes as it should, we will be back for dinner,” he said.

“What if you are not?” Julia demanded, her tone overly forceful.

“Then we will be late,” I said. “We will make an excuse. Do not worry.”

“Of course I will worry.” She drew a shaking breath. “I beg your pardon. I am being as shrill as Mrs. Ellis-Brant. I am still feeling a little worn down by the travel.”