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confused.
    With a concerted effort, Hope put one foot in front of the other and followed in the wake of the men. Nothing was going the way she had expected that day and she was left feeling very out of sorts.
    Perhaps today was the day to retire her facade and go back to being plain old Hope Stuckeley. The proper, acceptable, utterly boring girl she had always been.
    Perhaps she was not cut out for all this intrigue after all.

Chapter Five
    Once you have their respect, try to never lose it; for once lost, it is near impossible to gain again.
    ~The Duke of Lancaster
    “Michael, what an unexpected surprise,” Lady Lancaster said upon his entrance to her sitting room. It was late in the afternoon, which meant the dowager duchess was seated in her Blue Salon, as was her habit once the sun began its descent.
    Mornings in the Rose Room and afternoons in the Blue Salon.
    Lady Lancaster found that when one’s life was full of mystery and intrigue, it was often important to establish stability where one could and, honestly, the Rose Room was so glorious in the mornings and the Blue Salon so snug in the waning light of day.
    Extending her hand for a kiss on the knuckles from Michael, Lady Lancaster watched with surprise as a costumed Hope followed him into the room. Jacobs clearly had not recognized the girl or surely he would have included her in his announcement. The duchess watched with curiosity as Michael stood stiffly aside for Hope to offer her greetings and sit down. He then followed suit without a comment, except for a groan of ecstasy as he seemed to almost burrow into the couch’s comfort.
    “What’s the matter with him?” Lady Lancaster wondered aloud to Hope.
    “Oh nothing,” Hope replied offhandedly. “He’s a bit tired, that is all.”
    Michael opened his eyes to look at Hope and her apparently massive understatement. Then, clearly deciding that elaborating on just how tired he really was (and he appeared exhausted, the duchess could admit) would take too much effort, he closed his eyes again. Hope seemingly ignored the glance and became rather intrigued by the porcelain figurine on the table next to her.
    Lady Lancaster was rather dumbfounded by the entire exchange—a unique condition for her to be in, to be sure. The fact that they were both there together—with Hope dressed up as she was—meant that something unusual must have occurred earlier in the day. Perhaps whatever event brought them together was a mutual interest that she could build upon.
    “Now then,” she began, “I assume there is a particular reason for your visiting me?”
    …
    Hope looked over at Michael, but it appeared he was either asleep or extremely content to let her explain all that they had seen and heard that day. Shrugging, Hope replied, “Well, as you probably gathered, I was down at the Exchange this morning. While I was there, something very strange happened.”
    Lady Lancaster’s brow wrinkled slightly. “Strange how?”
    “Well, a rumor about Napoleon’s death began circulating—”
    “Pfft…” the duchess snorted. “Rumors of his death have been circulating for months now. It’s all utter poppycock! Believe me, if Napoleon had died, you can bet I would be one of the first to know.”
    Of that, Hope had no doubt. She hazarded another look at Michael to see if he found that bit of news surprising, but unless a soft snore counted as a response, he didn’t appear to care in the slightest.
    “I am aware of all the gossip lately. That is part of the reason I went to the exchange in the first place. The government security prices have been fluctuating greatly as of late and I suspected the rumors were the cause of the irregularities.”
    “So why did you find this particular rumor so unusual?” Lady Lancaster asked with an impatient look.
    “Well, it wasn’t the rumor so much, but rather how the rumor was circulated ,” Hope replied slowly, searching for just the right words.
    “What are you saying, child?