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the Sherwoods.
    “It really has been too long,” Eleanor said, laying her hand on both girls’ arms.
     “I’m sorry I’ve been so…distracted.”
    She had. Nothing was the same since Papa had died and she’d had to get used to her
     stepfather.
    But the sad truth was, Mother had not been a great friend to the marchioness, especially
     after Papa died. It was as if a wall had sprung up between them. The Sherwoods had
     made overtures, but Mother and Lord Pritchard always seemed to find something else
     to do.
    And time had passed. Happy childhood memories faded.
    But today, it was as if it were old times again.
    “Janice, I want to hear all about boarding school,” Eleanor said. “I long to see the
     Swiss Alps. Are they as beautiful as paintings portray them? And Cynthia, what are
     you studying these days?”
    Both Janice and Cynthia were happy to relate their latest news and interests and catch
     her up on family gossip. Marcia was still at her school in Surrey, having just achieved
     the status of headmistress. Peter and Robert were away at Exeter, Peter in his final
     year before he was off to Cambridge. And Gregory, Lord Westdale, had recently finished
     his studies at Oxford.
    Eleanor sighed. “My goodness. And Lord and Lady Brady? How are they?”
    “In fine health and very happy,” said Cynthia. “They always act as if they got married
     yesterday.”
    Janice bit her lower lip. “Yes, they do. Sometimes we feel quite de trop.”
    Eleanor laughed.
    “What does de trop mean?” asked Cynthia.
    Eleanor leaned down to her ear. “It means your mother and stepfather are very much
     in love.”
    Cynthia grinned. “Oh, I knew that.”
    The tea tray was brought round by a helpful footman. After Eleanor had fixed hers,
     she looked between her two companions. “Girls, it’s been five years now since we had
     that high adventure on the road back to London from Dover.”
    Janice sat up higher. “What a scene.”
    “Yes,” said Cynthia. “I’ll never forget it.”
    “Neither will I,” said Eleanor. “I’d like to hear your memories of that day.”
    “You would?” Cynthia’s eyes were wide.
    “Not if it’s too painful for you,” Eleanor added hastily.
    “Oh, no, it’s not that,” Cynthia said. “It’s just that Lord Tumbridge has already
     called on us this morning and asked about the very same thing!”
    “He did?” Eleanor felt her whole body heat.
    Janice gave a vigorous nod. “He didn’t mean to, really. But he was telling Mama about
     a friend of his who’d recently been robbed on the road to Dover, and Mama told him
     that once all her children, you and Lady Clare, and Gregory’s tutor had been robbed,
     too, on the same road and near the same place.”
    Eleanor’s heart began to thump. “So what did you tell Lord Tumbridge?”
    “Everything,” Cynthia said with relish. “Especially the part about the unlucky talisman.”
    Eleanor grinned. “I believe we could have called everything that day rather cursed.”
    Except for the wondrous appearance of the masked man with the secret tattoo, she couldn’t help thinking, despite everything she knew about him now.
    Janice laughed. “So you remember the talisman Robert found?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Eleanor. “He was so excited, he tripped at the mouth of the cave on
     his way out and cut his jaw.”
    “He still has a scar,” said Cynthia.
    “And then Peter,” Janice went on, “dropped it in the stable at your house, and a stallion
     kicked him.”
    Cynthia giggled.
    “Cynthia,” remonstrated her big sister. “He limped for a week.”
    Cynthia bowed her head, but then she looked quickly up. “But we still hadn’t figured
     out that it was bad luck. Gregory put it on a string and wore it around his neck that
     night—remember?”
    “Yes, he showed it to the entire table at dinner,” Eleanor said. Her stepfather had
     gazed at it a long while. Mother had simply passed it on. Unless an item of jewelry
     was made of gold