She had stopped eventually and availed herself of the handkerchief. And she had sat on a sofa beside Heddingly, as she did now, his hand firmly clasped in hers, her eyes wide on his face, almost as if she believed that if she lost touch with him and stopped seeing him he would disappear again.

Not a look in his direction.

"We have Charles to thank for your grandpapa's arrival, my dear Jessica," his grandmother had said during the conversation that ensued. "The marquess had decided that he did not own a traveling carriage fit for the journey. A letter would have had to suffice until the weather grew warmer. But Charles brought him."

She had looked at him then. Through him, rather. He had had the impression that she did not see him at all.

"Thank you, my lord," she had said before turning and smiling with warm affection at the old man again, laying her cheek against his shoulder for a moment.

No questions of how it had come about that he had gone to her grandfather. No queries about his health, about his whereabouts for the past three weeks. No polite wishes that his morning's journey had been a pleasant one. No sign of any gladness to see him. Or of displeasure in seeing him. No reaction at all.;

"Charles." Hope was tapping his arm. "Claude has asked you twice already if you wish to play a game of billiards. You look as if you might be a million miles away."

The cousin in question laughed. "There must be a female in it," he said. "And where have you been for the last three weeks anyway, Charles? Is she to appear in London during the coming Season?"

The group around him all joined in the laughter.

"My lips are sealed," he said, grinning. "You don't think I would confide in you, Claude, do you, you puppy? An older cousin has to have some secrets. And I thought you had learned long ago not to humiliate yourself by challenging me to a game of billiards. It seems I have to refresh your memory. Are you coming, Godfrey?" He got to his feet.

"I shall stay to keep your sister company," Sir Godfrey replied. "I know that I would be drawn into challenging you too. And I know just as surely that you would crush me as you always do. You run along, and I shall stay here and hold on to my self-esteem."

Lord Rutherford put his arm across the shoulders of a tall, thin young lad who had been hovering in the vicinity of his group for several minutes.

"Are you coming too, Julius?" he asked. "Have you really grown a foot since last year, or is it just my imagination? Can I interest you in a game of billiards?"

Young Julius was beaming with pride as he left the room with his idol's hand still resting casually on his shoulder.


"I understand that the pond is to be scraped off tomorrow for the children to skate on," Sir Godfrey said. "And you are to accompany them, Lady Hope?"

"Oh," she said, flashing him an apologetic smile, "skating at Christmas time has always been traditional, Sir Godfrey, when there is ice. We are not always so fortunate, of course. We all go, you know. The distinctions between children and adults become somewhat blurred at this time of year."

"And is a mere family friend permitted to join the fun?" he asked.

"You, sir?" she asked. "But of course, if you wish to do so. You must not feel obliged to, of course. We will all understand perfectly if you choose to behave in a more dignified manner than the rest of us."

"How could I resist?" he said. "I do not believe I could even count the years since I last wore a pair of skates."

"You will not be the only person outside the family to be there," Lady Hope said, smiling slyly at her companion. "Dear Miss Moore is also to come."

"Is she, indeed?" he said, looking at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Then I shall certainly have to attend, shall I not, Lady Hope?"

"Is it not delightful to see her so happy?" she said, gazing fondly across the room at Jessica. "And she kept so quiet about the Marquess of Heddingly's being her grandfather."

"I suppose it would be a happy occasion to be reunited with the sole remaining member of one's family after longer than two years," Sir Godfrey agreed.

"And so pretty she looks with her fair hair and delicate complexion," Lady Hope continued.

"Indeed, yes," he said, "though sometimes I believe I prefer a dark beauty. Dark hair can be more striking."

"Perhaps," she agreed absently. "Would you not say that happiness has made Miss Moore look years younger, sir? Tonight she could pass for a girl in her first Season, I declare."

"My feelings exactly, ma'am," he said, a tremor of something very like amusement in his voice. "I suppose I must be feeling the effects of my age. I do believe my attention is usually caught these days by ladies of more mature years."

"Yes," she said, "and that is just as well. Miss Moore is four and twenty, after all. Have you told her about your horses, sir?"

"My horses?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Is she aware that you own one of the best stables of racing horses in the country?" she asked. "I am sure Miss Moore would be vastly impressed."

"I do not believe the chance to mention them has arisen in my conversations with her," he admitted. "No matter. There is always time. But what about you, ma'am? I begin to think you are not as interested in them as you have always appeared to be. You have been promising these five years past to visit my stables with your brother, but I have yet to see you there."

"Oh, me," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I am sure you do not wish to be encumbered with the likes of me at your stables when you must be forever busy with the horses."

"I have grooms and stable hands and jockeys to tend my horses for me," he said with a smile. "Really, Lady Hope, I am just a lazy owner who happens to have a shrewd eye for a good horse and a large enough purse to indulge my whims. I would not have invited you, you know, if I did not wish you to come."

"That is very civil of you, I am sure, sir," she said. "Perhaps when the weather improves I can accompany Miss Moore on a visit."

"A good idea," he said. "She seems to be a suitable chaperone."

Lady Hope appeared to miss this last comment. A whole flock of little children had descended on her demanding good night kisses. A nurse stood in the doorway, a firm look on her face. Evidently even the persuasions of the Duke of Middleburgh himself would not have shaken her decision that it was high time all those in her care were tucked up in their beds.


Jessica was brushing her hair absently before her mirror. She had dismissed her maid for the night several minutes before. What a very eventful day it had been!

She still could scarcely believe that her grandfather had actually come-all the way to London in the middle of winter, merely to see her, the granddaughter who had defied him and rejected his care two years before. And he had not scolded all day. He had been content to let her hang on his arm, and had even patted her hand frequently with what she could only interpret as affection.

She had not realized until this day how starved she was for love. Not that she could complain. The Dowager Duchess of Middleburgh had shown her quite remarkable kindness since her arrival in London, and for no real reason at all except that she had been a friend of Grandmama's. But Jessica had not been able to quite relax. She had been so very aware of the fact that she was living entirely on the charity of a near stranger.

Now she had Grandpapa, and everything was going to work out well for her. They had not had any sort of personal talk during the day. They had not been alone together at all. She did not know what he would suggest, whether he would stay with her in London perhaps until the Season and continue with his plans of a few years before, or whether he would take her back home with him after Christmas. At the moment she did not care. It was enough to relax her stubborn independence for just a little while and let someone else decide her future for her.

Jessica turned from the mirror and climbed into the high bed. She pulled the covers around her although she did not lie down. The fire was still burning in the grate. But it was going to be a cold night. She must warm up the bed before the fire burned itself out.

The Earl of Rutherford had brought Grandpapa. He had been gone for three weeks, and he had returned with her grandfather. Why? What had he been doing all that time? It seemed very clear to Jessica that after all he must have gone in search of her identity. And he had discovered the truth. But why? She had refused him. Why would he still show any interest in her? Had he been hoping to find some dreadfully low or even scandalous background so that he could return to

London and expose her to the ton? Yet he had said that he wished to marry her even if her mother had been a scullery maid.

It had been a happy day. She could not deny that. The happiest she had known since before Papa had died. But, oh, it had been a wretchedly unhappy day too. How was she to spend a week longer in this house when Lord Rutherford would be there too? He was there now, sleeping in his own bedchamber. She did not know where that was. Perhaps not far off.

Jessica rested her forehead on her raised knees. Did he know, couid he possibly have guessed, how achingly aware of him she had been all day, from the moment of her entry into the blue salon that morning? Could he have any inkling at all of the fact that when she had wept in Grandpapa's arms, she had done so as much because he had come back as because Grandpapa had come? She had not realized that even herself at the time. She had tried to tell herself that she was dismayed he had returned. She had tried to pretend that he was not there.