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turned back to Ermel and said, “ Let’s just stop for a moment. We can work this out. I just know we can. We’ve come so far, there was bound to be a little hitch along the way. Isn’t that so?” He laughed nervously. “Let me have a word with the duchess. She really is quite fond of you, and I know she’ll want to make you happy. Can we do that? Can we just take a breath for moment? Sure we can. Of course we can. I’ll be right back.” He turned and dashed into the house.
    “Sheriff,” said Mrs. Vigfusson, “Her Grace wants you —”
    “I heard.”
    The sheriff leaned over and poked his head into the motorcar. He cleared his throat a few times before saying, “I hope you know what you’re doin’ girl, cause it ain’t real smart messin’ with these people. They get their way. That’s the way it works. They get their way.”
    “But they can’t take her from me if I said no. Can they?”
    The sheriff looked up at the stern-faced nanny, back down at Ermel, cleared his throat repeatedly, and said, “No, not today anyway, but like I said, I sure hope you know what you’re doin’.”
    Jeb held his head in his hands and moaned. Mrs. Vigfusson ran back into the house, hissing all the way. Pugh dashed out of the house, the opposite direction, and passed her on the way.
    “Ok, ok,” said Pugh with a red, wet face. “It’s my fault. My fault completely. I misunderstood Her Grace’s instructions. But it’s all fixed now. Mrs. Railer, the duchess of Sarlione wishes to extend to you her most cordial invitation to a tea party.”
    Ermel watched him strain to make his solemn jowls look jovial.
    “It’s all prepared, as we speak, in honor of you, Mrs. Ermel Sue Railer. Just like you wanted.”
    “We’re leaving now , Mr. Pugh. I’m not interested in that woman’s tea party, and you can tell her so. Driver, take us home.”
    “No! Driver! Stay where you are! You’re not going anywhere Mrs. Railer until you hand over that baby!”
    “Sheriff, will you be so kind as to inform Mr. Pugh that he can’t have my baby and he can’t make us stay here neither.”
    Pugh looked at the sheriff with pleading eyes.
    “I’m sorry , Mr. Pugh. The court order says you need a proper agreement. You saw it yourself. That ain’t proper. As it stands today, I can’t make her give up the baby. You work things out in court, and I’ll take care of it, but not the way things stand today. Driver, take these people home.”
    “I’m warning you,” said Pugh, “if you leave without handing over that baby, I’ll take everything from you! I’ll take everything!”
    Ermel smiled, looked him in the eye, and said, “But you won’t get the thing you want most, now will you? Dorthea belongs to me.” Then she closed her door and told Jeb to close his. As the motorcar rolled down the hill, she lowered her window and said, “Remember, Mr. Pugh, nobody shows up Ermel Railer. Not a two-bit lawyer and not even a duchess.”

Chapter 2
     
    Within days of the baby exchange, every adult in town, up the hill and down, had heard the story. It made its way around the grapevine a few times before coalescing into a tale about the ignorant white trash wife of Jeb Railer who’d insulted a duchess and selfishly condemned her own child to a lifetime of misery. Babies Judith and Abigail had been spared; good fortune had prevailed, and they’d won a reprieve. Dorthea, on the other hand, had won the Railer surname and all the shame that came with it.
    It didn’t end with that, though, because in that one day, without a word or an action of her own, Dorthea not only became a Railer irrevocably, but became the most pathetic and pitiable Railer of them all. She had literally made it to the threshold of a miraculous redemption only to have it snatched away at the last second in a freakish turn of events. For the rest of her life she’d lug not only a sorry name, but a pathetic story as well. That story would make her known to most everyone in