Constance stroked his ear, a peculiarly soothing caress. “If Cranmouth has never defended a client from a competency petition, isn’t that a strong reason to turn elsewhere for at least this one case?”

The accumulated aches of thirty miles’ jostling eased under Constance’s touch, and even some of Robert’s mental tumult quieted.

“I might hire additional counsel,” he said, “but I ought not to break ranks with Cranmouth. You are putting me to sleep.”

“Fatigue is putting you to sleep.”

Rather than argue, he let himself drift and had almost reached the sweet oblivion of true slumber when the coach swayed around a sharp turn.

“We’re nearly there,” Constance said, patting his shoulder. “Time to wake up and be ducal.”

The near-occasion of sleep left Robert groggier than simply soldiering on through fatigue would have. He nonetheless assisted Constance to put the coach to rights. He was sitting beside her, properly attired and trying to mentally compose a note to Cranmouth, when the coach rocked to a halt at Lynley Vale’s front door.

Robert descended from the carriage, feeling ancient, exhausted, and none too optimistic.

“You’re home,” Althea said, rushing past Robert to take Constance’s arm before he could offer that courtesy. “Breakfast is waiting, and Quinn and Jane are most anxious to discuss matters.”

“Matters must wait,” Robert said. “Lady Constance is fatigued from her exertions, and our sortie to Fendle Bridge was not entirely successful.”

Nathaniel, who was apparently already stepping into the role of host at Lynley Vale, waved the coach off to the carriage house.

“Did you meet the girl?” he asked.

Constance stopped her sister from dragging her into the house. “We met my daughter, your lordship. Ivy is in every regard a lovely young lady, though her circumstances are less than ideal. Thank you for asking.”

The ladies continued on their way, heads close together.

“You deserved that,” Robert remarked. “Constance is delightfully fierce when her protective instincts are aroused.”

Somewhere down the drive, birds took up their matutinal songs. The sun hadn’t yet cleared the horizon, but daybreak was imminent.

“Does Constance know what Lord Stephen’s solicitor had to say?” Nathaniel asked.

“Of course, and her opinion on the matter would make a sailor blush. Let’s walk a bit, shall we? After being cooped up all night, I find some fresh air welcome.”

Nathaniel sent him a brooding look. “You want to wander down the drive, under the open sky, no fog, no mist, to obscure the horizon?”

A line of Shakespeare came to Robert: This thou perceiv’st, which makes thy love more strong, / To love that well which thou must leave ere long.