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anything more than a single chaste ribbon and the tiny, silver buttons peeping shyly down the length of her preposterously straight back.
    These she struggled with, cursing the lack of a lady’s maid or hand mirror at the very least. No good, no good! It took nimble fingers far too long to get around them. She would have to alter the pattern when she arrived, finally, at Lady Eversleigh’s. Companions were not expected to take overlong over their toilette.
    Finally, it was done. The staid cheval glass did her justice, for her colour was high and she looked softer, less like a prim ice maiden than usual, for her tight coils were loose upon her delicate, oval-shaped face. Good! Tomorrow, no doubt, it would be an unbecoming little mobcap over her head. Today, it was the peony.
    Anne chuckled at the thought, her irrepressible spirits subtly rising. Today she was going to have an audience, once more, with the Earl of Edgemere. Though it was to take her leave forever, she would make the most of the opportunity to learn his face, his gestures, his scent, his smile. Every person was allowed at least one indulgence. Anne’s secret indulgence, she decided, with admirable calm and cool defiance, was to be this.

Four
    â€œRobert, you do not understand what a great good gun she is!”
    â€œI do, Kitty, believe me I do! That does not mean, however, that she is suitable to act as a governess to you young rapscallions. You’d have her for breakfast in a minute, and I’d be obliged, as usual, to leave off my pressing business in London to hotfoot it home instead!”
    â€œShe is different!”
    â€œSo I infer. Different, however, does not always equate to suitable. The discussion is closed.”
    Miss Derringer’s ears burned. It was not her habit to listen in on other people’s conversations, but if they would indulge in such matters in the public breakfast room to which she had just been politely directed, there was not much she could do about it.
    How dare the man! Not suitable indeed! Why, he knew nothing about her... . She pressed slender, suitably gloved fingers to hot temples. No, he knew more about her than she did herself ... more about stirring secret hidden warmths in strange, deliciously wicked places... . She had never even thought that way before.
    Miss Derringer straightened her back and allowed rage to hide the sinful direction of her erring, normally impeccably ordered thoughts.
    Not suitable ... not suitable... .! She briskly tapped on the door, then glared at the earl before smiling calmly at his siblings and taking a seat. Anne did not wait for an invitation. She may have been about to lower herself into service, but she had not done that yet! To his high-and-mighty lordship, she would remain, always, a lady born and bred.
    â€œMiss Derringer, tell Robert at once that you will stay!”
    â€œKitty, I do not believe I have been invited. Tom, if you are going to spill your chocolate, do have the goodness to at least aim for the gown, rather than the ice white gloves. Muslin is deplorable to wash.”
    Tom grinned unrepentantly. “May I practice on you?”
    â€œVile child, no you may not!”
    Was that a faint flicker of amusement she caught flashing across the earl’s taciturn features? Anne smiled inwardly. How strange that she could be so angry and breathless at one and the same time.
    â€œMiss Derringer, I trust you slept well? Your ankle, I hope, is better for the rest?”
    Polite words, but Anne could feel a current between them that had little to do with commonplaces.
    â€œExcellent, my lord. I have been so cosseted it is small wonder I am feeling better. Do not trouble yourself over a doctor, for with these stout boots I am cured.”
    Perhaps she should not have drawn attention to her footwear, for the earl would surely, then, not have had the audacity to set his glass at her and peer under the table at her kerseymere skirts and the abhorrent