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which his valet had provided him. Wellstock, the meek and modest manservant who had served Lord Gyllford for years, was always happy when Jamie was at home. Since Lord Gyllford rarely requested his assistance, it was only when young Everard was on the premises that Wellstock could employ his considerable talents as a sartorial expert to the full. Now he hovered about his charge, his face not quite masking the mixed emotions he was experiencing—delight to be assisting a gentleman of fashion again, and dismay at the sight of Jamie mangling his beautifully ironed neckcloths. On Wellstock’s arm hung three more freshly pressed cloths which, he was certain, were destined for a similarly tragic fate.
    Lord Gyllford surveyed the scene with amusement. “I see you have not yet learned to make a simple fold,” he remarked to his son.
    Jamie sighed and cast the crushed linen into Wellstock’s waiting hand. “I seem to be all thumbs when it comes to tying these cursed things,” he grumbled, placing number four around his neck.
    â€œNever mind. I’ll show you an easy fold I’ve developed,” Philip reassured him. He smiled at Wellstock’s ill-disguised expression of offense. “I know I won’t do as well as you, Wellstock, but I think you may safely leave him in my care.”
    The valet reluctantly took the hint and bowed himself out of the room. Philip, standing behind his son, tied the cloth in a few dexterous movements. “There. That should do.”
    â€œIt’s excellent, father! A capital fold! What do you call it?”
    â€œCall it?” Philip’s eyes twinkled. “Well, let’s see. Since it’s so simple that even you can learn it, why not call it the Incapable? ”
    Jamie grinned back at his father. “Never mind,” he said, “I’ll call it something modish, like the Arabesque or the Windfall . That ought to impress Reggie and the other Dandies of my acquaintance.” He gave the neckcloth an affectionate pat and turned away from the mirror. “Please sit down, sir. I suppose you’ve sent Wellstock away because you want to scold me about something. What have I done now?”
    â€œScold you? What makes you think that?”
    â€œIsn’t that what fathers always do when they arrange to speak to their sons privately?”
    â€œIs scolding the only private communication possible between a father and son? What a lowering thought! No, I had no such intention when I sought you out.” Philip looked at his son keenly. “Is there something on your conscience that requires a scold?”
    â€œI was afraid you might be put out about Miss Pennington. Do you mind that I brought her here?”
    â€œMind? Of course not. Why should I?”
    â€œI don’t know. Reggie thought you might not like being saddled with a strange female for the holidays. And a governess to boot.”
    â€œI admit to being surprised. She’s not the sort of person I would have expected you to bring home. But she seems a most well-bred and charming young lady, and we’re glad to have her with us.”
    â€œI knew it!” Jamie exclaimed in relief. “That’s what I told Reg. I assured him that once you and Aunt Clarissa got to know her, there’d be no problem.”
    â€œProblem?”
    â€œYes. Having a governess as a guest. Reggie thought it might be awkward.”
    â€œI hope you told Reggie that your aunt and I are not so high in the instep.”
    â€œOh, he didn’t think that!” Jamie said hastily. “He only thought that you might not want to concern yourselves—”
    â€œHow foolish of Reggie. Surely you both must realize that anything that concerns you concerns us. A fine parent I should be if I failed to be interested in all your concerns.”
    â€œI knew you’d feel that way. But I must admit it’s a relief to hear you say it. Evalyn—that is, Miss