"I believe," Cassandra said, her gaze still on Roger, "a part of me would have died with him had he not recovered from his injuries, Lady Sheringford, but he did. I refused to let him die."

Her gaze moved up the short distance from the dog's head to Stephen's face before she looked away.

No one asked what the accident had been, and she did not volunteer the information.

"You are going to be covered with hairs, Lord Merton," Miss Haytor said.

He smiled at her.

"My valet will doubtless scold, ma'am," he said, "but he will brush off every last one of them. And a valet must be provided with something to scold about from time to time, you know, if he is to feel wanted and enjoy his work."

She almost smiled back at him. But she had not forgiven him quite yet – if she ever would.

No one had thought to cross the room to close the sitting room door and make sure it was shut fast this time. As a result, a little curly haired, rosy-cheeked head appeared about it, as it had about the maid's skirts the day before, and the child, seeing the dog, stepped inside the room. She was wearing a pink dress that was faded, though it was spotlessly clean and had been crisply ironed.

"Doggie," she said, laughing as she came.

But Roger seemed quite happy where he was, having his ear smoothed out and his head scratched, though he did humph a lazy welcome and opened his eye when she buried her fingers in the hair on his back and bent her head to kiss him.

"Oh, dear," Cassandra said, sounding embarrassed again. "I am so sorry.

I will take – "

But the child appeared suddenly to have noticed that there were people in the room as well as the dog, and that one of them was a lady wearing a flower-trimmed straw bonnet. She stepped away from Roger and Stephen and pointed at Meg's bonnet.

"Pretty," she said.

"Why thank you," Meg said. "And your curls are pretty too. Perhaps you can spare one. I'll cut it off with the scissors I have in my reticule and take it home with me and paste it onto my own head, shall I? Do you think it would look pretty on me?"

The child was giggling with glee.

"No-o!" she cried. "It would look s-silly."

"I suppose you are right," Meg said with a sigh. "I will have to leave it on your head, then, where it looks quite lovely."

The child lifted one foot and held her leg behind the knee.

"I got new shoes," she said.

Meg looked at them.

"They are very fine indeed," she said.

"My others was too small," the child said, "because I am a big girl now."

"I can certainly see that," Meg said. "I daresay the old shoes were very much too small. Would you like to sit on my knee?"

Cassandra sat down again, exchanging glances with Miss Haytor as she did so. But they need not have worried. It might not be perfect etiquette to allow a shaggy, decrepit dog and a servant's child to wander into the sitting room while one was entertaining noble guests, but those noble guests were charmed. Stephen knew both Meg and Kate were. And he certainly was. This was a house, he realized, where children and pets were allowed to roam virtually at will. It was a home. He had felt it yesterday from without the door. Today he was sure of it.

Cassandra did not live in perpetual gloom. Even now she was looking at the child with exasperated affection.

"I have a little boy," Meg said when the child was on her lap, "but he is older than you. And I have a little girl who is younger. And another boy who is a tiny baby."

"What are their names?" the child asked.

"Tobias," Meg said, "though we call him Toby. And Sarah, whom we call Sally. And Alexander, who is Alex. What is your name?"

"Belinda," the child said. "What else could you call /me/?"

"Hmm, let me see," Meg said, making a show of thinking. "Belle? I have a niece who is Belle, short for Isabelle. Lindy? Linda? Lin? None of them sound as pretty as /Belinda/, though, do they? I think maybe your name is perfect as it is."

Roger had settled on the floor across Stephen's boots. Kate had turned her attention to Miss Haytor. Stephen was smiling at Cassandra, who was biting her lip and looking back, an answering smile surely lurking in her eyes.

He was glad he had come. He was glad Meg and Kate had come with him. And he was glad about that faulty catch on the drawing room door. This was so much better than last night despite the sensual pleasures the night had brought him. This was a new beginning and a good one. Cassandra was seeing the best of his family, and he was seeing the best of hers.

A new beginning…

Did he really want one?

A beginning of what?

But before he could either ponder the question or enter the conversation again, there was a tap on the drawing room door and the horrified face of the thin maid appeared around it.

"Oh, my lady," she said with a gasp, "I am so sorry. I was getting the clothes in off the line and Belinda and Roger went inside. I thought they was in the kitchen, and then I couldn't find them /anywhere/.

Belinda!" she said in loud, urgent whisper. "Come out of here! And bring the dog with you. I /am/ sorry, my lady."

"I believe both of them have been entertaining our visitors, Mary,"

Cassandra said, finally looking fully amused. "And Belinda has been able to show off her new shoes."

"Belinda and I are becoming friends, Mary," Meg said. "I do hope you will not scold her for coming in search of the dog. She is a delight, and I have been happy to meet her."

"Roger has been keeping my feet warm," Stephen added, smiling at the maid.

"You must be very proud of your daughter," Kate said.

Belinda slid off Meg's lap and wrapped her arms about Roger's neck. He lumbered to his feet and bobbed out of the room ahead of her. The maid closed the door, and Stephen heard her give it an extra tug until it clicked shut.

"That was all very embarrassing," Miss Haytor said with a little laugh.

"You will not be accustomed to mingling with the children of servants and with household dogs, Lady Montford, Lady Sheringford."

Meg laughed.

"Oh, you are quite wrong," she said, and she proceeded to describe their upbringing in Throckbridge. "When you spend all your days in a small village, Miss Haytor, you become quite accustomed to mingling with people of all stations in life. It is a healthy way to grow up."

"I still miss that life on occasion," Kate added. "I used to teach the very young children at the village school. We used to dance at assemblies that were for everyone, not just for the gentry. Meg is very right. It was a healthy way to grow up. /Not/ that either of us is complaining about the good fortune that befell us when Stephen inherited the Merton title, of course."

"I am certainly not complaining," Stephen said. "There is much privilege in the position. There is also much responsibility and much opportunity to do good."

He looked at Miss Haytor as he spoke. Perhaps it was not a wise thing to say, as she might well be thinking that his position also gave him much opportunity to do ill, but he smiled at her, and it seemed to him that she had lost much of her prunish look in the half hour they had been there.

And Rome, to use the old clichГ©, had not been built in a day.

It was time to leave. He could see Meg preparing to stand up. But before she could do so, there was a knock on the front door, and they all turned their heads to look at the sitting room door, as though it offered a window through which they might see who the new caller was.

After a few moments the door opened and the maid appeared again.

"Mr. Golding, my lady," she said, "to call on Miss Haytor."

Miss Haytor jumped to her feet, her cheeks suffused with color.

"Oh, Mary," she cried, "you really ought to have called me out. I will come – "

But it was too late. A gentleman came past Mary into the room, and then looked acutely embarrassed to find it occupied. He stopped abruptly and bowed.

Cassandra got to her feet and hurried toward him, both hands outstretched, her face glowing.

"Mr. Golding," she said. "It has been a long time, but I do believe I would have known you anywhere."

He was a small, thin, wiry man of middle years and unprepossessing appearance. His dark hair had receded from his forehead and thinned to an almost bald patch on the crown of his head and silvered at the temples. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles halfway down his nose.

"Little Cassie?" he said, setting his hands in hers and looking as delighted as she. "I would /not/ have known /you/ except maybe for your hair. But you are Lady Paget now, are you not? Miss Haytor told me that when I met her yesterday. I am sorry about your husband's passing."

"Thank you," she said, and she turned to present him to her other guests, her face still bright and happy and quite incredibly beautiful.

She explained that he had been her brother's tutor for a short while when they were children, though now he was secretary to a cabinet minister.

"I came to pay my respects to Miss Haytor," Golding said after he had made his bows. "I did not intend to walk in on you and your visitors, Lady Paget."

"Do have a seat anyway," Cassandra said, "and a cup of tea."

But he would not sit down, clearly intimidated by the company.

"I merely came," he said, "to see if Miss Haytor would care to join me for a drive out to Richmond Park tomorrow. I thought we might take a picnic tea."

He looked at Miss Haytor, clearly uncomfortable.