She placed her cup down, wondering why men were so very difficult when it came to women. “I think it’s because I don’t have the usual wants of a young lady, and he finds that fascinating. Perhaps I should simper and swoon and wave a handkerchief about, and then he’d run off.”

“You know,” Louise said, leaning back against the carved wooden chair, “that’s not a bad idea. If you behaved more typically, it might be far easier for you to find a husband, too.”

Jack pursed her lips. “I have no intention of pruning my branches to meet the demand of someone else’s idea of how I should be, thank you.”

“Fair play,” Louise said. “But it shan’t be easy going.”

Jack couldn’t argue. There had been nothing easy about her life since their father had died. And even before, she’d never quite fit in, unless she was playing the pianoforte, of course.

“Now, you must tell me all about dancing with Stone the other night! How intriguing.”

“No, it was not intriguing,” Jack protested.

“Don’t try to contradict me.” Louise tsked, her eyes wide with delight. “I have a very strong feeling that when you go to the next ball, you shall be asked to dance apace. After all, he is a truly beautiful man. And you, you seem to handle him very well. And anyone who can handle a duke that well, I think gentlemen might be interested in someone like that.”

She groaned. “I need a man with a fortune and someone who won’t make me miserable, and someone who will not get in the way of me playing the pianoforte.”

Jackthunked her cup down and tried not to despair.

“Oh, my dear…”

She shook off her dread. She wouldn’t allow her sister to feel even a touch of guilt for choosing Deptford over funds. This was not her fault. No, it was the Duke of Stone’s.

She forced herself to smile at her sister and take her hand. “Never you fear, Louise. I have taken action to ensure such a thing is possible.”

Louise frowned. “Have you? I suppose I’m not surprised. You’ve always been tremendously resourceful.”

“Thank you,” she replied, squeezing Louise’s hand.

“Jack,” her sister ventured as she buttered a bit of toast. “What were you doing last night?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, studying her egg cup a bit too enthusiastically.

“Why were you sneaking into the house?”

“Dear God, you saw me?” She wasn’t going to lie to Louise if she were suggesting that she… There was no point.

Louise was too good at ferreting out her lies, and she had been ever since they’d been small children.

Louise nodded. “I did. And I’m glad you’re not trying to convince me otherwise. Now, out with it.”

“Well, if you must know…” Her insides twisted, and the confession stuck in her throat.

“Yes?” Louise prompted her, brows rising. “Come now. Be bold. Anyone who is flitting about at night surely shan’t balk at a few words.”

“I was visiting the Duke of Stone,” she blurted.

“How could you possibly visit the Duke of Stone?” Lou gasped.

“Well, heisour neighbor,” Jack pointed out.

Louise blinked, clearly not believing it. “Yes, but surely he was off doing what dukes do in the middle of the night. And he’s a gentleman. Besides, how would his servant possibly let you in? How would thedukepossibly let you in? He would know that such an action was beyond reproach, for surely you were by yourself.”

Louise’s words rushed out of her like a whirlwind, and she clearly tried to deny the whole thing possible.

Jack pressed her forearms to the edge of the table and willed herself to explain. “I was by myself, and I was dressed in breeches and a shirt, and I climbed the tree into his room.”

Louise’s rasher collapsed from her fork and fell to the plate below. Her jaw almost did exactly the same thing.


Tags: Eva Devon Historical