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the kitchen. A dozen servants stood about, gabbing. Food being prepared for the earl’s next meal lay about on what appeared to be a dirty countertop, the mutton unwrapped, not even on a plate. Jane was aghast. Dirty pots were piled in the sink. The floors were filthy, both dirty and stained. The walls, usually white and now gray, needed a washing as well.
    “Mum, can I help you?”
    It was Molly. Jane smiled. “Yes. Please set me a place at the table in the breakfast room. I will be taking” —she hesitated—“breakfast there from now on.” She wanted to take all her meals with him, but decided she had better go inch by inch. “Molly, why is that counter like that?”
    “Excuse me, mum?”
    “Who is in charge here?” Jane asked.
    “I am,” said a chubby man in a chef’s white uniform. He smiled back at her, thinking he had never seen such a sweet angel-like doll in his life. “I’m Frankel, ma’am.”
    “Frankel—” She searched for the words. “Would you please remove that mutton to the dogs and find his lordship something else for his dinner?” She smiled encouragingly. “Would you please have the counters cleaned before you do another thing?” She paused, to see if she had offended him. Her smile was quick, warm. “This kitchen needs a woman’s touch!”
    “That it does, miss!” Frankel agreed wholeheartedly. They beamed at each other.
    “After you have fixed the earl’s dinner, can you see that all the counters are washed down, the floor swept and mopped? And the pots and pans should be done immediately.” There was more, so much more, but Jane knew she would have to stand there and supervise personally to see it done. “Do you need more staff?” she asked innocently, knowing that he did not.
    “No, miss.” Frankel began barking out orders, puffed with pleasure, the general with his army performing for the lady. It had never occurred to Jane that she would not be obeyed. She was used to winning people with her smile, beauty, and good nature.
    But Molly hadn’t moved. She was watching her nervously. Jane turned to her inquiringly. “Mum, did his lordship say it’s all right?”
    Jane fought the blush. “His lordship will not mind.”
    Molly gave her a glance filled with doubt.
    In the breakfast room Jane waited for Molly to set her a place. That was when she saw him.
    Through the tall, arched windows she watched him come galloping around the corner of the house. Galloping. Across the beautiful, perfectly tended lawns. Clumps of grass and dirt actually flew up and hit the windowpanes. His stallion was as black as the devil. He sat bareback. They appeared unnatural, like some ungodly creature, or something out of mythology, a Centaur, perhaps. The earl went galloping away, riding like a madman. In his wake he left an endless gash of mud and dirt.
    “He is mad.” Jane didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until she heard herself. “He’ll kill himself!”
    “Oh, no, mum, there’s no one who can ride like he can.”
    Jane glanced sharply at Molly. There was no mistaking the pride in her tone and, now, the shining of her eyes. Why, Jane thought, startled, she’s half in love with him! “But look what he’s done to the lawn!”
    Molly shrugged. “He don’t care.”
    Jane thought of the mud she’d seen in the foyer yesterday and the dust in the parlor, the state of the kitchen. No, he didn’t care. “Molly, how long have you worked for his lordship?”
    “Just a few months, mum.”
    Jane was disappointed. “Are the stories true?”
    Molly’s face lit up. “About his wife?” she whispered.
    Jane bit her lip. She shouldn’t be gossiping with the servants, but … “Yes.” She was whispering too.
    “He could have killed her,” Molly said. “He’s so angry. And so strong.”
    “Yes, I think …” Jane stopped, looking at Molly. “How do you know he’s strong?”
    Molly actually blushed.
    Jane was no fool. Molly was pretty and plump, the earl a handsome man. She