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smiled. “Indeed they do. And Sussex’s transformation was quite welcomed. My mother, you see, had just died before he took ill, and I think it might have had a lot to do with the change in him. I know from experience when one is confined to bed, one has a great many things to think about—to ask forgiveness for.” Lizzy straightened then shrugged a little. “Well, then, enough about my brother, let us have some tea.”
    Lucy reached for the teapot. “It’s milk and sugar, isn’t it?” she asked Elizabeth.
    “Yes, please. And one of Cook’s lemon scones, with extra lemon curd. There’s no unearthly reason why we should let her delicious lemon curd go to waste. Slather it on, if you will, Lucy, and I shall instruct my maid to tighten my corset laces.”
    “Oh, how I loathe tight lacing,” Isabella said with a shudder. “How does one take a proper breath?”
    “I’ve never found any assistance from it,” Lucy murmured as she tipped the teapot and watched the amber liquid spill into the delicate cups. “One needs something of a bosom for tight lacing to be effective.”
    Elizabeth tutted. “Well, when one possesses a figure like mine, tight lacing only makes you look like a sausage casing filled with too much meat!”
    “Scandalous!” Isabella laughed.
    “But true,” Lizzy said with a smile. “I can have enough bosom showing without the aid of tight lacing, thank you very much.”
    Smiling, Lucy watched Lizzy and marveled at how composed and at ease she was. She was a beautiful woman, with long shining black hair and the most lovely gray eyes she had ever seen. Lizzy was blessed with pale, smooth skin that reminded her of moonstone. And her figure… Well, Elizabeth York was rounded in all the right places, and possessed a bosom that Lucy felt quite envious of. Nothing ever spilled out of her own necklines, despite the fact she had taken to making her own clothes.
    Once the tea was poured, and the scones cut and swathed in lemon curd and clotted cream, they sat backwith a collective sigh and kicked off their shoes, while assuming positions of comfort that no lady of gentle breeding would dare consider during an afternoon call to tea.
    “I adore it when the house is devoid of men,” Elizabeth said on a sigh as she bit into her scone. “One can eat as much as they desire without speculation, and sit in the most unseemly positions. Do put your feet up, ladies, if you’re so inclined.”
    Isabella moaned as she bit into a pink iced cake that oozed custard from its flaky sides. “This is to die for, Lizzy, the little square cake with the pink icing. What do you call it?”
    “I have no idea what its proper name is, but Cook likes to refer to it as ‘the bit of sweet his grace adores.’ It’s Sussex’s favorite. All almond paste and marzipan and thick custard. What I wouldn’t give to see him sitting here with a delicate pink square in his hand.”
    Laughter erupted as Isabella agreed, while wondering aloud what her husband would look like indulging in the fancy pastries, and little thin sandwiches. Try as she might, Lucy attempted to picture the mysterious Earl of Black, but instead of his image, a set of haunting gray eyes appeared, and she blinked it away, and instead finished off her scone.
    “So, what news is there to be had?” Elizabeth inquired.
    “As you know, I haven’t been out of the house in a fortnight,” Isabella grumbled, “but I do know that Lucy has some gossip to share.”
    Elizabeth sat up a bit straighter, jostling Rosie inthe process, who gave a little grunt of displeasure then stretched out onto her back. “Gossip? Oh, do tell!”
    “Well,” Lucy hedged, “I don’t know if I should be repeating this. Gossip, you know, such a nasty thing.”
    “Oh, hang it,” Elizabeth said on a laugh. “Regale us with it, Lucy, because like Isabella, I’ve been cooped up here, and Maggie absolutely refuses to read the gossip rags to me—she thinks she’s keeping my mind from