“No, I'm sure you wouldn't,” Blake murmured.

“Blake, darling,” Penelope said, “I insist that you see Miss Dent home.”

“A fine idea,” he agreed.

Caroline nodded gratefully. She didn't much feel like facing his questions just now, but the alternative was wandering the countryside with no place to go. “Yes, I would appreciate that.”

“Excellent. It's not far, you say?” His lips curved ever so slightly, and Caroline wished she could tell whether his smile was one of irony or supreme irritation.

“No,” she replied. “Not far at all.”

“Then I propose that we walk.”

“Yes, that would probably be most convenient.”

“I will wait here, then,” Penelope put in. “I'm sorry I cannot accompany you home, but I'm most weary from my travels. It has been lovely meeting you, Miss Dent. Oh! But I do not even know your given name.”

“You must call me Caroline.”

Blake shot her a sideways glance, looking a bit surprised and intrigued that she had not used an alias.

“If you are Caroline,” Penelope replied, “then I am Penelope.” She grasped her hands and squeezed affectionately. “I have a feeling we are going to be splendid friends.”

Caroline wasn't certain, but she thought she heard Blake mutter, “God help me,” under his breath. And then they both smiled at Penelope and exited the house.

“Where are we going?” Caroline whispered.

“To hell with that,” he hissed back, glancing over his shoulder to make certain they were out of ear-shot of the house, even though he knew that he'd shut the front door behind him. “Would you care to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“It wasn't my fault,” she said quickly, following his steps away from the house.

“Why, I wonder, do I have trouble accepting that statement?”

“Blake!” she burst out, yanking on his arm and grinding him to a halt. “What do you think, that I sent your sister a note and asked her to pay you a visit? I had no idea who she was. I didn't even know you had a sister! And she wouldn't have even seen me if I hadn't stepped on that bloody twig.”

Blake sighed, beginning to realize what had happened. It was an accident—a great, big, huge, monstrously inconvenient and annoying accident. His life seemed littered with those these days. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

“I have no idea. I certainly can't remain in the house while your sister is visiting. You yourself told me that your family doesn't know about your work for the War Office. I assume that includes Penelope?”

At Blakes's curt nod, she added, “If she discovers that I have been staying at Seacrest Manor, she will undoubtedly learn of your clandestine activities.”

Blake swore under his breath.

“I don't approve of your secretiveness with regard to your family,” Caroline said, “but I will respect your wishes. Penelope is a dear lady. I shouldn't want her to worry over you. That would upset her, and it would upset you.”