“What Your Grace seems to be experiencing now,” Rothhaven said, “is very likely how a staring spell feels to me. The words make sense, the sentences all have meaning, but the internal fulcrum that meshes the gears of thought and action refuses to turn. One sits, mind agape, as it were, and gropes about for even a thought. Drink your tea. It’s a lovely blend.”

Quinn needed to kick something—perhaps his own backside—and bellow profanities until he was calm enough to put this situation before his duchess.

He picked up his teacup instead. “Constance has been trying to find the child?”

“Searching for your niece, Artemis Ivy Wentworth.”

The teacup shook slightly in Quinn’s hand, why he could not say. “She named her daughter Artemis?”

“For the goddess who protects young girls. Ivy, as in ‘I will cling to her as ivy clings to the oak.’ If you are awash in self-recrimination, Walden, I will leave you to your guilt, but I will also tell you that the reason I alerted you to Constance’s whereabouts all those years ago is because I was falling in love with her. She was too young for me then, of course, but more significantly, I was also too young and had nothing to offer her. I was a prisoner of my father’s arrogance and my own self-pity. Do close your mouth.”

Quinn’s teacup went clattering to its saucer. “You notified me that she was at that dreadful place? You sent that note?”

“By that point, I was permitted to read a redacted version of the York newspaper. Dr. Soames carefully excised most social news, but he forgot how absorbing the personal advertisements could be. I saw your advertisement. I connected your description to the young woman responsible for preventing my starvation. I had no idea if she was your sister, but she fit the description and was clearly more educated than any chambermaid ought to be.”

The cat climbed down from Rothhaven’s shoulders, stretched luxuriously, and crossed the sofa to sniff at Quinn’s knee.

“You found her for me,” Quinn said. “You could have kept her there, but you sent her home. Does she know about this?”

“Not yet. The revelations regarding Artemis were of greater moment. I will of course let Constance know the truth in due course. I recall his name now.”

Whose bloody bedamned—? “The cat?”

Rothhaven rose and swatted at his breeches. “Septimus, because he came from a large litter, according to Constance. I’ve prepared a draft of my proposal regarding her settlements. The arrangement takes particular care to leave all of Constance’s funds under your jurisdiction or Lord Stephen’s should anything untoward happen to you.”

“Because you are a person who suffers from epilepsy?”