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are blue-deviled,” Cordelia said. “Have I done something to distress you?”
    “Not at all.”
    “See, Hester? You worry far too much! You always believe things are more dramatic than they are! Perhaps you read too many novels.”
    “Right now…” Hester closed the book on her lap and shook her head. “I cannot read. It is too dark, and I need my spectacles.”
    “Frank would love to see you in your spectacles, I am sure. They transform you into a beautiful bookish bluestocking that no man can resist.”
    Hester disagreed with a snort. “No man likes a bluestocking. They prefer silly little flirts… like you, Cordelia.”
    “I am not silly!” the younger sister protested. “But… I suppose I am a flirt.”
    “Much to our father’s dismay…” Hester sighed. Under her breath, she added, “And Frank’s, I am sure.”
    A moment later, Maisie entered the sitting room with the calling card of a guest: Alexander Snowley. When faced with the possibility of receiving a visitor, Hester said, “But our aunt is in town. Perhaps we should not—”
    “Send him in!” Cordelia spoke louder than her sister, ensuring her opinion would be heard. “We cannot turn away such an honored guest.”
    “But Hyacinth is away!” Hester tried to be the voice of reason. “And we are also her guests. It is not our place to accept visitors on her behalf!”
    “I am sure she would not mind. Besides… Frank is with us.” Cordelia smiled at her cousin as prettily as she could. “You will not abandon us, will you, Frank?”
    “I…”
    Before Frank could think of his answer, the door opened, and the painstakingly handsome Alexander Snowley entered the sitting room. His perfect hair was darker than a moonless night, and his black eyes were intense and piercing. As he stepped inside, he brandished a large bouquet of flowers, which he offered to Cordelia with a bow.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Waverly,” he greeted her. “You look every bit as lovely as I remember.”
    “And you look even more handsome, Mr. Snowley. How is that possible?”
    Cordelia’s compliment made him chuckle. “Surely you jest!”
    “Not at all! You look very handsome indeed. Oh, and the flowers are lovely! You are too kind.” Cordelia paused to stroke the flowers’ soft petals. “You remember my sister, do you not?”
    “Indeed. It is a pleasure to see you again as well, Miss Waverly,” he said to Hester, who held his gaze ever-so-briefly. He immediately turned his attention back to Cordelia and awaited her next words.
    “This is my cousin, Frank Boswell,” Cordelia cheerfully said. Naive girl that she was, she failed to recognize the sneer on Frank’s face.
    “It is very good to meet you.”
    “Mm…” Frank acknowledged the other man with a grunt, then forced himself to mutter a single word. “Likewise.”
    “Do sit, Mr. Snowley. You may stay as long as you would like. Should I ask Maisie for some tea? Oh, but she is such a sweet girl… I hate to trouble her so. There are still a few biscuits, if you would like one.” Cordelia spoke so quickly, she could barely catch her breath. There was something about Mr. Snowley that unsettled her. He made her nervous, and when she was nervous, she had a tendency to ramble.
    Alexander sat beside Frank on the sofa, across from the sisters. “I am quite alright. I came to see you, Miss Waverly, and that was my only reason for coming. Tea is not necessary.”
    Hester sighed. Just once, she would have liked to be the Miss Waverly who attracted the attention of the handsome young gentleman. As Cordelia and Mr. Snowley conversed, Hester’s gaze met Frank’s. He must have understood her feelings, at least to some degree, because he frowned.
    “If you painted a portrait of me as I am right now, it could be summed up in three words,” Cordelia mused. “Freckles, frocks and flowers.” She held the bouquet beneath her nose and inhaled deeply. “So fragrant!”
    “Fine, fair, and fetching,” Mr.