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hesitation. How distant was the connection, Charles wondered. More than the stipulated seven degrees? There was definitely more in the “cousins’ ” interaction that required explanation.
    “Lostwithiel.” Arbry was studying him. “So you’re back at…the Abbey, isn’t it? A fleeting visit, I expect.”
    Charles grinned, letting his practiced facade of bonhomie bubble to his surface. “Restormel Abbey, yes, but as to the fleetingness of my visit, that remains to be seen.”
    “Oh? Business?”
    “In a manner of speaking. But what brings you here with the Season just commenced?” It was the question Arbry had wanted to ask him. Charles capped his inquisition with a studiously innocent, “Is your wife with you?”
    “Nicholas isn’t married,” Penny said.
    Charles glanced at her, then directed a look of mild inquiry at Arbry. He was a peer in line for a major title, appeared hale and whole, and looked to be about Charles’s age; if Charles should be in London getting himself a bride, so, too, should Arbry.
    Arbry hesitated, then said, “I act as my father’s agent—there were aspects of the estate here that needed attention.”
    “Ah, yes, there’s always something.” Charles darted a look at Penny. She’d managed the Wallingham Hall estate for years; if there was anything requiring attention, she would know, yet not a hint of anything resembling comprehension showed in her face.
    Arbry was frowning. “I vaguely recall…I met your mother and sisters last time I was here. They gave me to understand you would be marrying shortly, that you intended to offer for some lady this Season.”
    Charles let his smile broaden. “Very possibly, but unfortunately for all those interested in my private life, duty once again called.”
    “Duty?”
    The question was too sharp. Arbry definitely wanted to know why he was there. Charles glanced again at Penny, but she was watching Arbry; she wasn’t giving him any clues.
    She was protecting someone. Could it be Arbry?
    “Indeed.” He met Arbry’s eyes, dropped all pretense. “I’ve been asked to look into the possible traffic of military and diplomatic secrets through smuggling channels hereabouts during the late wars.”
    Arbry didn’t blink. Not a single expression showed on his pale face.
    Which gave him away just as surely; only someone exercising supreme control would be so unresponsive in the face of such a statement.
    Still blank-faced, he said, “I hadn’t realized the…government had any real interest in pursuing the past.”
    “As certain arms of the government are controlled by those who fought, or sent others to fight and die over the last decade and more, you may be assured the interest is very real.”
    “And they’ve asked you to look into it? I thought you were a major in the Guards?”
    “I was.” Charles smiled, deliberately cold, deliberately ruthless. “But I have other strings to my bow.”
    Penny glanced around, desperate to break up the exchange of pleasantries. Nicholas might be good, but Charles could be diabolical. She didn’t want him to learn more, guess more, not yet. God only knew what he’d make of it, or how he might react.
    Her gaze found Millie and Julia, both with faces alight, hurrying as fast as they decorously could to join her. And the two handsome gentlemen she’d somehow acquired. For quite the first time in her life she thoroughly approved of their blatant curiosity.
    “Penelope! We were just coming to join you.” Julia beamed as the three of them turned. “We got held up in the apothecary’s.” She directed her gaze to the gentlemen; Millie did the same. “Lord Arbry, isn’t it?”
    Nicholas had met them before; he bowed. “Mrs. Essington. Mrs. Essington.”
    Charles turned fully to face them. He was taller than Nicholas; Millie’s and Julia’s gazes rose to his face. They both blinked, then delighted smiles lit their countenances.
    “Charles!” Julia all but shrieked. “You’re