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my lady.”
    “Dreadful thing. My nephew said your carriage was attacked by highwaymen and overturned, and that you suffered a head injury. I hope you are feeling better.”
    “Much better, thank you.”
    “Why don’t we sit down in front of the fire. The weather outside is dismal. A cup of tea should be just the thing.”
    She had so much to do before Jocelyn arrived. And yet there was no refusing the wishes of a countess. “That would be delightful, my lady.”
    They sat down on the sofa in front of the fire blazing in the hearth and a few minutes later the butler arrived with the tea cart. Tea was served. Casual conversation was made. Lily tried not to glance at the clock on the white marble mantel, but apparently she failed to hide the urgency she was feeling.
    “I can tell you are eager to begin your tasks.”
    Lily flushed and wished she had been more attentive. “It is only that I have a great deal to do before my cousins arrive.”
    “Are your cousins, then, difficult taskmasters?”
    She rarely thought of Matilda Caulfield as a cousin, though by her marriage to Henry she certainly was.
    “It is nothing like that. It is just that my cousin Jocelyn…depends on me. She trusts me to see to her needs, as I have done these past six years. I do not wish to fail her, or Mrs. Caulfield.”
    “I see. And exactly what did your cousin Jocelyn and her mother send you here to do?”
    More color rushed into her cheeks. Taking over the duke’s household and assigning tasks to his servants was hardly the proper thing. Still, it was what the Caulfields expected of her and she meant to see it done.
    “Only small things, really. I—I need to inform the cook that Miss Caulfield prefers biscuits and cocoa up in her room each morning instead of a meal downstairs. And I’d like to make certain the room she occupies has a nice view of the garden.”
    She bit her lip, thinking of the endless items on her list. “My cousin doesn’t do well with dust. I shall need to speak to the housekeeper, make certain the carpets in her bedroom have recently been beaten.”
    “I see.”
    “Just very small things, truly, my lady. I hope it won’t be too much of a bother.”
    Lady Tavistock set her gold-rimmed porcelain cup and saucer down on the table in front of her. “You may do whatever you think is necessary to make our guests comfortable.”
    “Thank you, my lady.”
    The dowager rose from the sofa and Lily rose, as well.
    The lady reached for her cane. “I suppose I had best let you get on with your work.” She smiled. “I enjoyed our visit, Miss Moran.”
    Lily relaxed. “As did I, Lady Tavistock.” She watched the dowager countess leave the drawing room, silver hair gleaming in the light of the whale-oil lamps lit to offset the dark, cloudy day, her head held high though her movements were slow and a little wobbly. She was the late duke’s aunt on his mother’s side, Lily knew, a widow who lived in a manor house on one of her late husband’s estates.
    Happy to have the meeting behind her, Lily made her way back out to the marble-floored hall. The list of tasks to be completed awaited her upstairs. It was time she got to work.

Four
    T he following day, Royal sat in his study, his elbows on the desktop, his head propped in his hands. A stack of estate ledgers lay open in front of him. His eyes burned from the hours he had spent reviewing the pages.
    During the first nine months after his father’s death, he had spent most of his time learning about Bransford Castle and its surrounding lands. Aside from the estate’s own farm production, there were dozens of tenants on the vast acreage. Royal had met with each family individually to discuss what improvements might be made to help production, benefiting them and increasing their profits, a percentage of which belong to the estate.
    During his years in Barbados, he had studied books on agriculture and used that knowledge to help make Sugar Reef the successful plantation it