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to see us at last.”
    “Geoffrey? Here?” Ellen’s dubious tone of voice was an indication that she had not entirely forgotten the spiteful ways by which her step-son had indicated his disapproval of his father’s third wife.
    “Yes, he has come to take us back to London so I may have a Season.”
    “London—he has come to take us to London for the Season?” There were tears forming in Ellen’s eyes. “We are saved, Seffie. Saints be praised, we are saved.” She took a dainty handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped her face.
    “Where is the dear boy? I must thank him myself. He has come to rescue us from this desolate place. And to think I have so misjudged him all these years.” She hurried to the door.
    “There is no need to rush. He has gone to the Red Goose for the night and will be back tomorrow, or so he says.”
    “Oh, of course, of course, to be sure. One could not expect him to manage on such meager hospitality as we can offer him here. London! Just think of it, Cassie—you will have a Season. Oh, how I have racked my brains to try to come up with a way for you to be presented, and now, like a messenger from heaven, Geoffrey has come to offer you your chance. Oh, my, did he say when we would be leaving? Are we going with him or by post? Has he rented a house for the Season?”
    Any unrealistic expectation Cassie might have had that Ellen would make a push to help her escape from the untenable position her brother had put her in was dashed by her step-mother’s obvious readiness to forgive Geoffrey anything, so long as he was willing to take them back to London and away from Cornwall, which Ellen had always stigmatized as being a barbaric place, totally unfit for civilized people.
    Cassie finally escaped from the fluttering excitement of her step-mother and went to find the one person she knew she could count on to be on her side. Wrapping herself in her cloak but not bothering to light a lantern, she resolutely made her way out of the house and back to the stables, the moon providing her with all the illumination she required to pick her way across the paving stones.
    She was a little afraid that Digory might have gone out on another smuggling run, but was reassured to find him rubbing down Dobbin, who was placidly chewing his ration of oats.
    “Digory, my brother has come back.”
    “So I noticed. His groom was sniffing around the stables this evening like a blooming exciseman.”
    “He did not find your room?” Involuntarily she glanced at the rough wall that Digory had built across the end of the stable years ago. It looked no different from any of the other walls, but concealed behind it was a room that, although not large, was adequate to meet his needs.
    “It would take a sharper eye than his to notice the discrepancy between the outside of the building and the inside. But on the other hand, it was indeed our good fortune that there were no kegs of brandy under the straw for him to find.”
    “Oh, I had not thought of that. He might have notified the preventatives.”
    “More likely he would have merely helped himself to a keg or two. But as chance would have it, there was nothing for him to find in the stable but Dobbin, so you needn’t get upset about what trouble there might have been.”
    “That is not precisely why I am upset.” She had not realized it would be so hard to ask Digory for anything. They’d had a private agreement for years, that Digory could use their stables as his headquarters, and in return he would supply them with meat for their table, but this was the first time she had attempted to alter what had been essentially a business relationship between them. “I was wondering if I might perhaps ask you ... a favor?”
    “I cannot promise anything until I know the nature of the favor, but you may feel free to ask, and I will do what I think best.”
    Her relief was overwhelming since she did not doubt for a minute that he would be able to think of some way to