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open door.
    “Is there a problem?”
    Irene turned to find Lord James and his little girl
in the foyer. He’d just put his daughter down and was now studying Irene with
an intensity that was most unsettling.
    He was unsettling. She’d only seen him fleetingly
earlier, so she’d had no idea just how tall he was, how broad he was in the
shoulders. She had to look up to meet his eyes. They were dark brown, the
color of rich chocolate, and they were staring back at her as if he could see
right through her. As if he could sense the heat rising in her.
    She averted her eyes, only to find his daughter
staring up at her. However, Miss Emerson’s gaze had none of the intensity of
her father’s. Only a simple curiosity. Irene smiled at her.
    Miss Emerson smiled shyly back, then leaned against
her father.
    And just like that, Irene’s heart skipped a beat.
Here was a large, muscled, dangerous man. And there was his sweet little girl
leaning against him. Irene watched as Lord James squeezed the little girl’s
shoulder, then bent down to help her with her coat. But apparently the ribbons
under her bonnet had become knotted. He gently tugged at them, while she waited
patiently.
    After a few moments of futile struggling, marked by
no help at all from the butler, Irene interceded. “Please allow me.”
    “I can get it,” said Lord James, despite all
evidence to the contrary.
    “I believe your fingers…” On his strong tanned
hands. “…may be too large to undo the knot. And I am afraid you are only
tightening the ribbons and soon poor Miss Emerson will become strangled.
Please allow me to introduce myself. I am...”
    “Miss Irene Wallace, daughter of Viscount Ainsworth,
sister to Cedric. I saw you on my way out of your house.” He stopped
struggling with the knot for a moment and smiled at his daughter. “Perhaps
we’ll have to cut the ribbons,” he said to her.
    “You will most certainly do no such thing,” said
Irene. “If you will but allow me to assist Miss Emerson, I am sure I can
loosen the offending knot without destroying her pretty bonnet.”
    Lord James rose and Irene was forced once again to look
up at him. Not that looking at him posed any particular hardship. But there
certainly was a lot of him.
    “My daughter can be shy around people she does not
know. I would not wish to frighten her.”
    “Nor would I. But may I at least ask her if I can
help?”
    He grunted some sort of assent. Or possibly just
grunted. Irene took the opportunity to bend down to the little girl. “Miss
Emerson, my name is Irene Wallace. Do you think I can try to loosen that
knot?”
    Miss Emerson worried her lip for moment, then
nodded.
    Irene knelt on the floor in front of her, then
reached for the strings and gently began to rub the knot between her fingers.
“This is a beautiful wool bonnet. I expect you brought it with you from
America. I have never seen its equal in London.”
    Miss Emerson studied her, but did not speak.
    Irene continued. “I am ever so anxious for spring
to arrive so we can have an end to the cold weather. Though I daresay if I had
a bonnet as beautiful as this, I would wish to wear it as long as I could.”
    Miss Emerson reached out hesitantly, as if to touch
a strand of Irene’s fair hair.
    “Sweeting, I don’t think you should,” said her
father gently.
    “It’s all right,” said Irene. “If I can irritate
poor Miss Emerson with my bungling, she can certainly touch my hair. Go ahead,
sweetheart.”
    Miss Emerson carefully touched Irene’s hair, looking
at the different colors of gold in it. “It’s pretty,” she said.
    “Thank you. I think your hair is pretty, too. I
just wish I could loosen this knot so we might see more of it.”
    The knot finally came undone and Irene was able to
remove the bonnet. Miss Emerson smiled at her radiantly.
    “Thank you,” said the little girl.
    “It was my pleasure.”
    *
    James had watched the scene before him with mixed
emotions. He’d heard Miss