“How do you do?” Knox said. “I am Mr. Knox Armstrong. My apologies for arriving quite unannounced, but my sister, Lady Mackenzie, was taken ill on the ride to Keswick. Is Putnam about?”

The butler squinted. “Unfortunately, his lordship was just set to leave. He has been invited to dine at Chessingham Hall.”

“Perhaps you could tell him that Margot Armstrong has come?” Knox asked.

The man frowned.

“Please,” Margot added. “We are old, dear friends, Putnam and I. I know he will take pity on me. I am really rather ill.”

Knox touched her elbow, warning her. But Margot ignored him. She needed only to convince the butler of their friendship. She moved up one step, smiling as seductively as she knew how to smile. “It was my suggestion, in truth. When I fell ill on the road to Keswick, my brother urged me to ride on, but I told him I knew who would offer me comfort straightaway.”

The butler glanced uncertainly behind him, and Margot saw her opportunity. She brushed past the unsuspecting man into the foyer and began to remove her gloves. “I think his lordship would be very displeased if he knew I’d been turned away.”

The butler glowered at her. “Wait here,” he said curtly. “I’ll tell his lordship you’ve come.” He walked off, his shoes echoing on the stone floors.

“Wherever did you learn to be so bold?” Knox muttered as he removed his gloves.

“What do you think I’ve been doing the last few weeks?” she whispered as she removed her cloak and hat.

They heard the sound of a door being soundly shut, then footsteps scurrying away from them. Another few minutes passed, and they heard the footfall of someone striding in their direction. Quickly.

Putnam suddenly appeared before them, bleary-eyed, his face a mask of confusion as he peered at them. His shirt was only partially tucked into his pantaloons. His waistcoat and coat were unbuttoned, and his wig looked as if he’d slapped it onto his head without benefit of a looking glass. “Miss Armstrong?” he asked uncertainly.

“My lord,” Margot said, sweeping toward him. “Actually, it’s Lady Mackenzie now.”

“Ah, yes... Yes, I recall,” he said uncertainly, as if he didn’t really recall at all.

She curtsied deeply. When he didn’t move to help her up—he seemed paralyzed in some way—Knox stepped forward and did it for him.

“Putnam,” Knox said. “Our sincere thanks for allowing us to intrude on you in this manner.”

“No, no,” he said. “I’m...surprised.” His gaze was still on Margot. “Come in.”