“No!” I drew in a long, shaking breath. I was not in the forest; I was in the dressing room at Davenport Hall. I pulled in another breath, and another, fighting back the night and the trees and the hands. “I will be quite myself in a minute.”

It took more than a minute, but eventually I stood and made my way to the corridor and collected Julia from her room, and together we descended the staircase to the drawing room.

“It reminds me of when we first met Mr. Kent,” she whispered, outside the door.

“Well, do not fall in love with Captain Morland,” I said.

“Very funny.” But she was smiling. The first I had seen since I had woken up, and I was glad to see it.

She nodded to the footman. He opened the door and stood aside with a bow.

At the sound of our entrance, Captain Morland turned from the far window. He was in dress uniform, complete with sword, and holding something small wrapped in a cloth. Our eyes met, his shock at my appearance plain in his youthful, good-humored face. A good start. I added a slow, stiff gait into the room, but resisted tottering—one did not wish to overplay it.

“Lady Augusta,” he said. “I am—I did not know how bad—”

He bethought himself of his manners and quickly bowed to both of us.

Julia returned the courtesy, but I said, “You will excuse me if I do not curtsy, Captain.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“You wished to speak to us?” Julia said, helping me onto Charlotte’s damask sofa. I added a hiss of pain as I sat, which was not entirely fabricated.

Julia sat beside me and motioned to the chair opposite. “Please do sit.”

“Thank you.” He took the seat, back stiff and straight, his initial shock under control, for he studied us both with a return of his usual shrewdness. After what felt like a full minute of silent scrutiny, he placed the cloth-wrapped item upon the small table beside his armchair and said, “There are some matters pertaining to two nights ago that I have been sent to clarify.”

“As you can imagine, it is not an evening my sister wishes to recall,” Julia said.

“I understand, Lady Julia, but there are inconsistencies that need to be answered.”

“Go ahead, Captain. We are, of course, happy to answer your questions, although I do warn you that I cannot remember much.” I hoped the lie did not show on my face.

“It has transpired that the men who stopped you upon the road were not Luddites, as you reported to us, Lady Julia, but a thieftaker by the name of Mulholland—the man who held you at knifepoint, Lady Augusta—and his crew on the task to arrest a criminal.”

I managed not to flinch at Mulholland’s name. “A thieftaker?” I echoed. “He did not identify himself at the time, did he, sister?”