A look of pain crossed Penelope's features before she replied softly, “No. No, I don't.”

“I'm so sorry,” Caroline stammered. “I shouldn't have asked.”

“It is nothing,” Penelope said with a shaky smile. “The earl and I have not yet been blessed with children. Perhaps that is why I so dote on my nieces.”

Caroline swallowed uncomfortably, well aware that she'd inadvertently brought up a painful topic. “Mr. Ravenscroft says that he, too, dotes on your nieces.”

“Yes, he does. He's quite a wonderful uncle. He should make an ex—”

“Don't say it, Penelope,” Blake interrupted.

Further conversation on the topic was thankfully prevented by the entrance of Perriwick, who was staggering under the weight of an overcrowded tea service.

“Oh my!” Penelope exclaimed.

“Yes,” Blake drawled, “it is quite a feast for high tea, isn't it?”

Caroline just smiled and didn't even bother to feel embarrassed by the way her stomach was roaring.

Over the next few days it became apparent that Caroline was in possession of a crucial bargaining chip: The servants refused to prepare a decent meal unless they could be certain she would be partaking of it.

And so she found herself “invited” to Seacrest Manor with increasing regularity. Penelope had even gone so far as to suggest that Caroline spend the night once when it was raining.

In all truth, it wasn't raining that hard, but Penelope was no fool. She'd noticed the servants' peculiar habits, and she liked breakfast as well as anybody.

Caroline soon became fast friends with Blake's sister, although it was becoming difficult to keep putting her off whenever she suggested a jaunt into Bournemouth. There were too many people who might recognize Caroline in the small city.

Not to mention the fact that Oliver had apparently plastered her likeness in every public place, and Blake reported that the last time he'd gone into town, he'd noticed that a reward was now being offered for Caroline's safe return.

Caroline didn't particularly relish the thought of trying to explain that to Penelope.

She didn't see so much of Blake, however. He never missed teatime; it was the only opportunity for a decent meal, after all. But other than that, he avoided Caroline's company save for the occasional visit to the bathroom to give her a new book.

And so life ambled on in this bizarre yet oddly comfortable routine—until one day, nearly a week after Penelope's arrival. The threesome were all hungrily wolfing down sandwiches in the drawing room, each hoping the others wouldn't notice his deplorable lack of manners.

Caroline was reaching for her third sandwich, Penelope munching her second, and Blake slipping his sixth into his pocket when they heard booted footsteps in the hall.

“Who could that be, I wonder?” Penelope asked, blushing slightly when a crumb blew out of her mouth.

Her question was answered moments later, as the Marquis of Riverdale strode into the room. He took in the scene, blinked in surprise, and then said, “Penelope, it's good to see you. I had no idea you were acquainted with Caroline.”