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resist,” Isabella murmured. Laughter filled the entry, and the footman struggled to hide a crooked smile.
    “Well, my brother has gone to see Lord Black, so we have the house to ourselves. We may eat as many scones as we like, and drink pots of tea, without any tedious male intrusion.”
    Lucy let out a sigh of relief. While she had been looking forward to visiting Elizabeth, she dreaded the thought of running into the duke. To know the housewas devoid of him was something more than a sense of relief. It was gratitude.
    “Come. I’ve decided to use the yellow salon in the hopes it might make the day brighter. I’ve been told it’s cold and dreary, and quite dull outside.”
    It was. And Lucy despised it. Too many days and nights she passed by herself in weather such as this. Since Issy had married Black and moved out of the house they had once shared with Lucy’s father, Lucy had found herself at loose ends—and alone—again.
    She had quite thought of Isabella as a sister, not a cousin, and was just getting used to having her about, when Lord Black had dashingly and passionately swept Issy off her unsuspecting feet.
    It was rather uncharitable of her, but Lucy was resentful at times of Isabella leaving her. It wasn’t fair, of course. Issy deserved to have a life, and a loving husband. Lucy just wished she hadn’t had to leave her behind to have it.
    They lived across the street from one another, and still it was not close enough for Lucy. The lonely nights, and the empty days seemed to be growing, and the sadness she had felt as a child and young woman seemed to be coming back—although darker and more ominous than before. Isabella claimed it was the effects of the occultism Lucy had begun studying, but Lucy knew it was something else entirely.
    Refusing to sink further into her thoughts, Lucy shoved them aside, and followed Elizabeth and the footman down the long stately hall of Sussex House. Despite the gloom of the weather, the hall was bright and airy owing to the pale colored walls, and the enormousdomed window that filled the ceiling. At the end of the hall was a glass conservatory that looked out onto the back gardens. Tall green palms and brilliantly colored hothouse flowers drew her eye, making her think of a warm summer day, although, behind the crimson petals were rain soaked windows and a bleak gunmetal-gray sky.
    Still, what a lovely spot it would be in the spring, when the grass was green, and the trees newly leafed out. Hyacinths would be particularly pretty in that room, giving it a rich, feminine floral scent. Hyacinths always reminded her of a warm spring day. She gave the conservatory one last longing glance before turning the corner. She had always wanted a conservatory, but Papa had never been one to be pleased by gardening. He was even less pleased by the prospect of improving a house that was part of an entailment. Even though, that entailment might very well one day come to her own son, and his grandson.
    “There now,” Elizabeth murmured as she allowed the spaniel to nudge her gently away from a chair that stood directly in her path. “Is this not nice? I can almost feel the sunshine.”
    Indeed it was. The sitting room was bright and cheery; small, but warm, and with the fire that crackled in the marble hearth it was rather cozy. It was also very feminine and Lucy could easily get lost in the comfort of the room. Lemon-yellow walls with ornate white plaster cornices and mullions gave the room a light, but aristocratic flare. The curtains were a billowing concoction of white silk, edged with the palest of green fringe. The furniture was light and delicate, upholstered in shades of yellow and pink and pale green, with chintz pillows, and a thick carpet. Lucy could not help but imagine the imposing duke sitting down on the delicate rosewood settee that was patterned with big pink cabbage roses, sipping away at his tea. She could imagine what it must be like for a visitor to sit opposite