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now that you are here! I cannot go beyond the estate boundaries, but still there are the stables, and picnics to be had if the weather clears, and the gardener cleared walking paths before he left in July. Perhaps they shall still be usable.”
    “Have you and your grandmother been here only a few months, then, Bronwyn?”
    “Oh, Grandmama has been here for years. I was with my mother’s sister in Bath for several years, though not yet out in society. But I grew up in this castle. He was not here at that time, of course. There were no eligible maidens in residence then, you see. Only little girls, old matrons, and men.” She sighed, a theatrical trill of sound that filled Thomas’s eyes with longing and left Tip cold. “I wish I had believed in the curse then,” she continued. “I certainly would not have returned to be with Grandmama this summer if I had known it to be real.”
    “I daresay,” Bea said.
    “Oh, but where is the tea? I will fetch it myself. Cook must be very busy preparing dinner all alone in that enormous kitchen. Beatrice, would you like me to show you to your chamber so that you may freshen up?”
    “Yes, thank you.” She moved toward the door, meeting Tip’s gaze as she passed. Her thick lashes fluttered ever so slightly, then she smiled.
    Tip’s cravat grabbed at his throat, abruptly too snug. Remaining aloof from her during the journey had accomplished nothing except to make him more desperate for the sight of her, for her voice, words, scent, touch . It was the exact opposite of what he had intended.
    But that seemed to be his perpetual trouble. Always the less he saw of her, the more he wanted her. Then when he finally had her near, he wanted her even nearer. He was the greatest idiot alive to imagine she would relent to his suit now simply because he escorted her here. Her comment about his business in Porthmadog made it clear she wished him gone already.
    Thomas cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Tip, if I don’t seem myself today.” He thrust out a hand. “I’m glad to see you here.”
    “Thank you, Tom. I regret to find you embroiled in this situation.”
    Thomas shook his head. “I don’t regret it. I couldn’t wish myself elsewhere. Not for a thousand guineas.”
    “Lady Bronwyn?” Tip could understand how a man might admire a girl as beautiful and vivacious as the castle’s chatelaine. He wouldn’t, of course, but his tastes ran to women with rather more in their heads than hair and feathers. One woman, in particular.
    “She is perfection itself,” Thomas said upon a heavy exhalation.
    Tip’s palms went cold. Perfection itself . His father’s favorite phrase to describe his wife, the woman he practiced infidelity upon for over twenty years despite his avowals of pure devotion.
    “Is she?” 
    “I mean to save her from her fate,” Thomas said firmly. “I would take her away from here straight off, but the curse traps a maiden here as soon as she arrives. Lady Bronwyn can’t leave. You can see now, I must find a way to release the curse and rescue her. That’s why I wrote to Bea. She’s so clever and levelheaded. I don’t know how we got to be twins. She always knows precisely how to—” He stumbled to a halt. “Tip?” His brow wrinkled. “ Cheriot ?”
    Tip’s jaw had locked. With extraordinary effort, he loosened it enough to speak.
    “I do not know how you came to be twins, either, Sinclaire .” His voice sounded dangerously low, even to him. “But then, you do have something in common: She thinks only of your well-being, and so do you.”
    “I beg your pardon! I have only Lady Bronwyn’s safety on my conscience.” Thomas had the nerve to seem affronted.
    Tip gripped his hands into fists to prevent himself from employing them. “And what of your sister’s safety? Did you pause one moment in pursuit of your conscience to consider hers?”
    “Bea is perfectly safe. Why, she’s the most sensible girl . . .”
    Tip’s gaze remained hard.