How Jane managed to sneak out of her town house and make it to Lucy’s, she would never know. It was a miracle as far as Jane was concerned. After she’d convinced her mother she would have to write Mrs. Bunbury a note and ask the woman to pay them a visit as soon as she was feeling up to it, Jane had slipped out of the back door. She scurried past the mews, nodding to Mrs. Cat, and managed to hire a hack near the corner to take her the several streets to Lucy’s town house.

Once she arrived on Lucy’s doorstep, Jane rapped on the huge black-lacquered door. The duke’s butler, Hughes, soon answered it.

“I’ve come to call on Her Grace,” Jane announced.

The butler gave her a condemning glare, but ushered her into the blue salon at the front of the house before going to alert his mistress that she had a visitor. Jane paced while she waited for Lucy.

“Jane, dear, what is it?” Lucy asked as she hurried into the room moments later.

“Lucy, it’s terrible. Mama found out about the scandal and now she’s demanding to confront Mrs. Bunbury. What shall we do?”

Lucy merely nodded. “How did she find out?”

“Apparently, Lady Elrod told her,” Jane replied.

Lucy’s pretty face crumpled into a scowl. “What does Lady Elrod know about it?”

Jane tossed her hands in the air. “It doesn’t matter. The fact is, Mama knows and she’s incensed. She says she plans to ensure Mrs. Bunbury doesn’t work in this town again. She refuses to give her a good reference.”

Lucy clucked her tongue. “Not much of a threat, dear.”

Jane shook her head. “Also, not the point. Mama demands to see her.”

Lucy pursed her lips. “Well, that’s not possible.”

Jane struggled to keep from raising her voice. “Of course it’s not possible. The question is, what are we going to do?”

Lucy shrugged one shoulder. “Stall her.”

“The time for stalling is over, Lucy. Mama is beside herself. I’ve never seen her so angry. I managed to tell her that I had to write to Mrs. Bunbury and ask her to pay us a call. Then I came here, but Mama won’t believe me for much longer. If I don’t produce Mrs. Bunbury soon, she’ll know it’s all a ruse.”

Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek. “It seems we have only two choices.”

“And they are?”

“To produce Mrs. Bunbury or admit she doesn’t exist.”

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose. “Heaven help me. Which of those two do you suggest?”

“Let me think on it a bit. Don’t worry, dear. We’ll sort it out. Perhaps Mrs. Bunbury can die in a freak accident. Or leave suddenly for France.”