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her open-mouthed astonishment. At her first sights of the buildings of Mayfair, she took the houses for royal palaces, government offices, or museums. The earl expected her to live in one of those mansions?
    Their carriage pulled up at one of the most imposing.
    “Havermore House,” the groom announced, letting down the steps.
    For all her gentle birth, her mother and Aunt Thisbe having a marquess for an uncle, Aurora thought she’d be more comfortable going around to the rear entrance like a servant or a tradesman. Her gloves were soiled from the newspapers’ ink, her hair was coming undone, and her lemon-yellow traveling costume that had seemed so fine in Bath now appeared to be frumpish and out of fashion.
    “You’ll do,” Windham said when she appeared reluctant to leave the safety of the carriage. His casual compliment helped stiffen her resolve as she walked beside him to the servants’ entrance, since the knocker was off the front door, and no one answered the earl’s raps and shouts. Only a carpenter was in the kitchen when they arrived there, hammering away at high shelves he was installing. Her Grace had gone to her daughter’s lying-in in Ireland, the man reported when they managed to gain his attention, and might stay through the summer—until the house renovations were completed, anyway.
    Damn, Kenyon cursed as he led Aurora back to the carriage. What the devil was he to do with her now? He knew no other dowagers well enough to ask such a favor, and he was not about to leave the chit with any of the willing widows of his acquaintance, not that they’d be willing to take in a beautiful young innocent.
    He definitely could not take her to his own town house. Warriner House had been bachelor quarters since Genevieve had run off. Aurora’s reputation would not survive the night, especially since there was not one female servant in the place to lend the minimum countenance. Besides, his brother’s army friends were liable to wander in at odd moments, knowing they’d always find a clean bed and a hot meal. Those choice spirits were liable to consider her dessert.
    The Clarendon and the Pulteney were out, as the premier hotels would not accept an unaccompanied young female. His own company would, of course, label her a light-skirt. Hell and thunderation. He couldn’t just leave her at some lesser establishment either, for who knew what dirty dish would accost her, or convince the gullible little peagoose to run off and get married? He finally chose the Grand, a newer hotel near Green Park which, while respectable, might not be so nice in its requirements. Besides, he was less likely to run into anyone he knew there.
    The concierge did not bat an eyelash when the earl requested facing suites, not attached. “Miss McPhee’s aunt will be joining her, along with her maid,” Kenyon explained. A leather purse pushed across the registration desk made further explanations, such as the aunt’s name and direction, unnecessary.
    Aurora was simply glad to be out of the coach. Her rooms were well appointed and clean, and far more expensive than she could possibly afford. Without the duchess to help her find a position, she had no idea what to do. When Windham announced he was going to call on his solicitor, therefore, Aurora said she’d go along.
    Perhaps she’d locate an employment agency along the way.
    “No, this is my affair. You’ll do better here.”
    The annulment of her marriage was none of her concern? “If I cannot go along with you, I’ll just take a walk in the park, I suppose.”
    “By yourself? Your maid is not even here yet. Gads, woman, do you know nothing? A female never goes anywhere unescorted in London.”
    “Of course I know that. I intended to ask that nice footman who carried up my valise to go along. I am sure no one would dare molest me, he was that tall and broad-shouldered.”
    Kenyon took her with him to the solicitor’s office.
    Mr. Juckett was an older man with spectacles