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they took up residence in the small London town house she had inherited.
    Although she liked having her own household and independence, Jessica frequently took Linda to visit the child’s paternal grandparents in Wiltshire. Jessica had grown up in the area and had many friends there, and since the Sterlings lived within five miles of the Hanscombes, she could visit Caroline at the same time. But being within a few minutes’ walk of each other was a new and pleasant experience for both of them.
    Caroline entered the breakfast parlor but she had no time to greet her aunt before a small figure squealed and whizzed into her arms. “Caro! A kitten wandered into the kitchen and Mama says I can keep it!”
    Caroline laughed and gave her nine-year-old cousin a hug. “And how did this creature happen to ‘wander in’? In your pocket, perchance?”
    Linda ground a toe into the carpet. “Well ...”
    “Never mind, poppet. I’m sure your mother was no more deceived than I am. Bless you, Jessica,” she said, reaching for the cup of coffee her aunt had just poured. “What did they ever do before coffee was discovered?” In the Hanscombe household, tea was the hot beverage since it was her stepmother’s preference; having coffee as well would have been wasteful. “I assume this un dernourished scrap of orange fluff is your new friend?”
    Reaching under the table, she scooped the fur ball onto her lap. The kitten was a ginger torn with startlingly green eyes, and he seemed to find the Sterling residence much to his taste. Now he was content to purr in delight as Caroline ex pertly scratched under his small chin. “And what is this peer less pussy’s name?”
    “Wellesley. For the Iron Duke, you know,” Linda said seriously.
    “A fine name. He even looks as if he has the famous Wellington hooked nose. At least, as much as a cat is able.” Having duly admired the new member of the household, she said, “Jessica, the oddest thing hap pened at Almack’s last night.”
    “Does that mean you had a better time than ex pected?”
    “Not really,” Caroline said ruefully. “I was sought out by a rather elderly lord who insisted on waltzing and who threatens to call on me.”
    “Goodness! Who was this ancient gentleman?”
    “Well, he wasn’t really ancient—perhaps around forty. But old enough to be my father. His name is Lord Radford, and he looks like the devil in fancy dress. All dark hair, frown lines, and glowering looks. He stared at me as if I were a filly ready for market. I was so nervous I’m sure he thinks me witless. Which is all to the good. I have no desire to further the acquaintance.”
    “Lord Radford. . . . The name is familiar. I believe there is a family seat in Gloucestershire. He’s men tioned in the papers regularly—a famous horseman and hunter. Cuts quite a dash. You have found your self a very eligible parti, little one!”
    “Please don’t laugh at me, Jess! This is serious. What if he is interested in me? The man terrifies me!”
    “Isn’t that putting it a bit strongly?”
    Caroline frowned and twisted a lock of tawny hair around her finger. “I’m not sure if I can explain it. He is not really unattractive, though rather old for me. I just felt... overpowered by his presence. As if he were a bomb waiting to go off, or a fire that would consume me.”
    “I think I understand,” Jessica replied. “The Duke of Wellington is something like that. No one could be more affable on a social occasion, but one can always feel the power in him. He could never be mistaken for an ordi nary man, even when he was plain Arthur Wellesley. Perhaps that is why he is called the Iron Duke.”
    “Well, Lord Radford is certainly no ordinary man. I would like him much better if he were.”
    Jessica shrugged. “A man like that will add greatly to your consequence. If you fall in love with each other and make a match of it, you would be established for life. Certainly his attentions can’t hurt. No one