Madeline studied those hazel eyes, very like Gervase’s, then glanced at Annabel, met her blue eyes, then dropped her gaze to Jane’s eyes, recalling what Gervase had earlier told her. In that instant, she more fully appreciated what had been behind the girls’ disruptive actions.

Looking up, she drew in a slow breath, then glanced at Belinda. “I honestly don’t think you have anything to worry about. Your brother would never send you away-and if you imagine any lady he married might see you as rivals for his affection…quite aside from that being unlikely in any lady he would choose to wed, any lady who attempted to get between him and you three would quickly find she’d misjudged.”

They continued to tack slowly through the crowd. When Belinda frowned, clearly unconvinced, Madeline smiled wryly and added, “Your brother is a very strong man, not just in a physical sense but in all ways. No lady I’ve ever met would be strong enough to bend him to her purpose if that purpose was one he was set against.”

“No lady?” Jane queried. When Madeline looked down at her, she opened her eyes wide. “Not even you?”

Madeline laughed and laid a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Not even me.” Looking across the heads to the steps, she added absentmindedly, “Not that I’d wish to do anything so silly as send you three away.”

Glancing back at Belinda, she saw a small swift smile cross her face.

“No.” Belinda looked down as they neared the steps. “But that’s you-we were worried about someone else. You know us, so you’re different. Other ladies might not react to us in the same way.”

Smiling fondly, Madeline lifted her other hand to Belinda’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, reassuringly. “Any lady your brother chooses will think the same. Now hush, for there he is.”

Gervase was standing at the top of the steps. He’d seen them approaching. He scanned his sisters’ features, then his eyes narrowed and fixed on Belinda’s face.

He looked rather grim as they reached him, but to Madeline’s surprise all three girls beamed delightedly at him as they went past, lured by the promise of sandwiches.

Narrow-eyed, he turned to watch them go; slipping her arm through his, she urged him in their wake. “The spinners and weavers look to have settled without drama, thank Heaven.” As they passed into the cool of the hall, she glanced back at the mass outside. “Have my brothers come in, do you know?”

“They’re already inside.”

Castle staff balancing platters of sandwiches passed them, ferrying the fare to the trestles set up to one side of the steps, sustenance for all those who had come to help and set up for tomorrow’s big day.

Turning back, Madeline found Gervase’s grim expression had eased. He laid his hand over hers on his sleeve. “Come-the committee are lunching in the dining room.”

She let him lead her in and seat her beside him. A cold collation was laid out on the sideboard; she consented to allow him to fill her plate while she listened to the latest words from each of the committee, and added her own observations.

Despite various hiccups, everything was going well. Everything looked set for a wonderful festival.

While they ate swiftly, knowing they had to return to the chaos outside soon, she thought of his sisters and their underlying fear. She was usually so consumed keeping abreast of her brothers’ lives, she rarely had emotional attention to spare for others in the district, even Gervase’s family, her closest neighbors and nearest in station.

The three girls were seated at the end of the table in earnest conversation with her brothers. Surreptitiously she glanced at Gervase. He was helping her with her brothers; he’d certainly made her more aware of Harry’s impending maturity. Perhaps, in this, given their new closeness-their liaison-she might return the favor and make sure he properly understood the basis for his sisters’ fears.

Yet once they returned to the forecourt they were surrounded by the crowd, then separated by the demands of various helpers for direction or clarification. More peddlers and merchants were arriving with their booths and tents; the afternoon winged by in organized and happily good-natured chaos.

The sun was in the west, slowly sinking behind the wall, before the cacophony started to abate. The locals who’d helped with the stalls and trestles called good-bye and drifted home; satisfied with their arrangements, the peddlers retreated to their camp outside the castle walls, while the traveling merchants ambled off to their temporary lodgings in nearby barns and stables. One by one the committee members found Gervase and took their leave. Madeline, however, stayed to the end.

He found her with Sybil on the ramparts; as he neared, he heard Sybil say, “They were convinced they risked being bundled off to live with their Great-Aunt Agatha in Yorkshire-one can understand their horror, of course.”

Coming up with both ladies, Gervase pretended he hadn’t heard, that the whipping wind had blown the words away before he’d caught them. He smiled as they swung to face him. “All, I’m surprised to be able to report, has sorted itself out.” He met Madeline’s eyes. “You were right about the peddlers and merchants and their booths, but actual fisticuffs were avoided.”

She returned his smile, holding back her whipping hair.

The wind gusted, plastering Sybil’s light gown to her frame. She shivered. “If I’m not needed any longer, I’m going inside.” She patted Madeline’s arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear.”

“Muriel and I will come as early as we can.”

Gervase grimaced. “How early is early? When does this affair start?”

Madeline grinned. “Officially, as you must remember, you and Mr. Maple open the festival at ten, but people start arriving from seven o’clock.”

Offering his arm, he groaned. “And I suppose I’ll need to be visible from then, to keep order by my mere presence?”

She chuckled, took his arm; they started strolling along the rampart. “It would help, but from eight o’clock, perhaps. Most of the earlier souls will be stall keepers or those wanting to lay out displays. The idly interested won’t appear until after they’ve breakfasted. However, you will need to have your men on the gates from first light. Just to be certain.”

He nodded. “I’ve already got that arranged.”

They walked on, enjoying the freshening wind that blew in their faces, looking out over the sea, at the long breakers rolling in to crash in froth and foam on the shore below.

“Your sisters spoke to me,” she eventually said. She glanced at him, trying to read his face; defeated, she grimaced and looked ahead. “Sybil said you know what was behind their strange behavior. I must admit, although you’d mentioned it before, I hadn’t really thought how they might extrapolate from Lady Hardesty’s behavior, how very threatened they would feel.”

She glanced at him again. “They asked me if such a thing-a newly married lady sending her sisters-in-law away-was normal. I assured them it wasn’t, but…” Pausing, she drew breath. “Regardless of what you might think, their fear is a reasonable one. It’s something I often forget, that many ladies are not as in charge of their own destinies as I always have been.”

His lips twisted; he caught her eye. “The truth is-and I admit I haven’t been in any great rush to assure them of this-they’ll have as much say in their lives as you’ve had in yours. For obvious reasons at present that’s not a wise point to stress, however…you really don’t need to worry about them.”

She smiled and faced forward. “I know-I did tell them you’d never allow them to be sent away like the Hardesty girls. Still, it’ll be in their minds until you choose your countess and they can convince themselves they’ve no cause for worry.”

When he didn’t say anything, she looked at him. “I have known them all their lives, and while I haven’t spent much time with them to date, that will change when Belinda and then Annabel make their come-outs. I’m quite fond of them, you know.”

He smiled, entirely genuinely; lifting her hand from his sleeve, he kissed her fingers. “They’re lucky to have your friendship, and your support, especially over their come-outs.”

She blinked. He was perfectly aware that wasn’t what she’d meant. A moment passed, then she shrugged lightly. “I’ll be happy to assist in any way I can, but of course their primary sponsor will be your countess.”

He fought to keep all intentness from his smile. “Indeed.”

They’d reached the far end of the ramparts; as they went down the steps to the forecourt, she said, “I must find my brothers and head home.”

“I saw them over by the horseshoe area.” He led her in that direction.

They found the boys engaged in an impromptu game, trialing the layout with the castle stablelads. Edmond and Ben were ready to leave, but Harry begged off, saying there was something he’d meant to check but had only just remembered. “I’ll follow once I’ve learned the answer.”

Madeline looked at Harry-Gervase could see the question blazoned in her mind-but then she caught his eye, then inclined her head to Harry. “Very well. But don’t stay too late.”

She, Edmond and Ben saddled up; Gervase waved them off, then headed for the castle, leaving Harry helping the stablelads to gather the horseshoes and level the earth around the peg.

Climbing the steps, he wondered what Harry needed to check; on the porch, he glanced back-and saw his sisters, a colorful trio, hurrying, chattering, toward the castle. He turned and walked into the front hall before they saw him. He waited in the shadows inside the door until, their feet pattering, their voices light, they rushed in.

“You three.” His quiet words brought them up short, had them swinging his way. He caught the fleeting guilt before their expressions hardened and, as one, they tilted their chins at him.