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Isadore.”
    “But he already thinks ye are Isadore!”
    “What I mean is that he will endeavor to extract information from me that I cannot possibly produce.”
    Dottie rubbed her pointy chin. “I can see where that might pose a problem, but what do you care what Mr. Birmingham thinks? Now that he’s brought us to Lunnon, why don’t ye just return to Lord Devere’s house?”
    Sophia had to admit that Dottie was possessed of a great deal of common sense. “I had originally planned to return to my brother’s, but now that I know Finkie will do the most vile things in order to keep me shackled to him, I cannot go back to Devere’s. Lord Finkel will expect me to go there, and I’m almost certain he will demand that I return to Upton Manor with him.” Her shoulders sagged. “And the pity of it is that the law is on his side.”
    “I fear yer right, my lady.”
    “Another very good reason for you to be mute. You’d be certain to slip and call me my lady .”
    “What if that ’andsome Mr. Birmingham comes to yer chamber when yer sleeping?”
    The idea of any of her seven and forty previous suitors coming to her bedchamber would have been repugnant, but strangely, the idea of His Sublimeness coming to her bedchamber sent searing quivers over her body. It was difficult for her to even remember the topic Dottie had initiated when thoughts of Mr. Birmingham awakening her with sultry kisses competed. She had to catch her breath before she could answer. “I shall be sick. I will take to my bed with a feigned fever immediately after dinner, and you must pretend to nurse me through the night.” Once more Sophia would experience the oddity of sleeping with her servant.
    “How I wish I could be taking dinner with the upper servants,” Dottie lamented as they moved toward the door. “Yer Mr. Birmingham is sure to find me out when he sees me table manners. I ’aven’t the foggiest which forks to use when.”
    “Oh, my dearest Dottie,” Sophia said with true remorse, “forgive me for all I’ve put you through. You’ve managed very well, and I’m excessively proud of you. Don’t worry at the table. Just watch me and do as I do.”
    She started for the door, then stopped and turned back to address her maid, her eyes flashing with mischief. “Could there be another reason you wish to eat with the upper servants? Could you be smitten with Mr. Birmingham’s valet?”
    “Mr. Thompson can leave his shoes under my bed any night.”
    Sophia giggled, then her heart began to flutter at the notion of Mr. Thompson’s employer leaving his shoes beneath her bed.
    “Oh, me lady! The back of yer ’air do look like a rat’s nest. Are ye sure ye don’t want to sit down at the dressing table and let me arrange it for ye?”
    Oh course she wanted to, especially to render herself more attractive to her dazzling host, but she could not chance one of his servants wandering into the chamber and discovering Dottie’s true identity. “Though my hair may not be up to your exacting standards, I seriously doubt it resembles a rodent’s nest. You, my dearest Dottie, are possessed of a propensity to exaggerate.”
    But as Sophia reached the bottom of the stairs and caught a sideways glimpse of her hair in the gilded Adam mirror, she realized with horror that Dottie had not exaggerated.

1 Chapter 4

    Sophia actually availed herself of two feasts that night at dinner. Since she had not eaten since the morning’s toast, the food was most welcome. But even more welcome was the vision of Mr. Birmingham seated at the head of the table impeccably dressed in black with crisp white shirt and cravat. Though his manner was courteous, there was a seriousness about him that had not been in his demeanor earlier. And that seriousness was directed at her. Every time she looked up, he was staring at her. As she sipped her soup, she felt his eyes upon her.
    Later, she caught herself watching him bring the wine glass to his lips and wondering what it