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was never relevant when I was visiting.” She continued swiftly, “But of course, I’m delighted that we shall have a good friendof Nick’s with us. It’s the first Christmas without him, you understand, my lord.” She managed a wan smile.
    “I can be no substitute, ma’am,” he said quietly. “But we were very great friends, and I have many treasured memories, as I’m sure you do.”
    He sounded so sincere, his gaze was so warm, so private, that for a moment she felt as if he were drawing her into a very particular world that only they could share. Fortunately, the children’s clamor of excitement at the Earl’s offer gave her a breathing space. He turned to them, solemnly answering the flood of questions about his own hunting experiences, exhibiting all of the patience Nick would have shown, and it increased the strange, disoriented feeling. If she hadn’t known what she knew about the man, she would have found him almost irresistibly appealing.
    She said abruptly, “I forgot to ask if you have sufficient ink and quills for your correspondence, sir?”
    He looked a little startled at this sudden non sequitur but answered calmly enough. “I believe so, ma’am. I must admit I haven’t had need of them thus far, so I have not really noticed.”
    And that was an out-and-out lie, she thought with a little prickle of satisfaction that restored her equanimity somewhat. It was a pointless lie, too, unlesshe had something to hide. “Well, should that change, Mallow will take your letters to the post every afternoon, if you care to leave them on the pier table by the front door.”
    “I will remember that, but I doubt very much I will have such a need, Lady Harriet. A man would have to be a churl to prefer writing inanities to distant acquaintances to spending time in such charming company.” The black eyes had an almost velvety lustre, and she was aware of a little frisson of something like anticipation.
    He was far too attractive for anyone’s good, she decided. Had he worked this magic on Nicholas? It seemed out of character to think of Nick telling this man intimate facts about his brother and sisters and yet never mentioning the Earl to herself. He must have trusted him, and she had always considered her brother to be a good judge of character. But, of course, developing trust in one’s quarry was how the men in that business operated. Nicholas had probably done the same on occasion, led some trusting soul up a weedy garden path.
    She felt the familiar burn of futile anger in the pit of her stomach. Such a waste. First their father and then Nicholas, sacrificed on the altar of patriotism.And here she was doing much the same. Set a thief to catch a thief, she thought with a grim inner smile.
    The library doors opened, and Mallow announced, “Dinner is served, your grace.”
    The twins leaped to their feet. “I’m ravenous,” Tom declared. “I could eat a whole sheep and six chickens.”
    “So could I,” Grace added, making for the door.
    “Just a minute.” Harriet grabbed them both by the arm as they raced past her. “Where are your manners? You don’t go in front of the Duke, you know that.”
    They fell back, looking rather crestfallen, as their grandfather heaved himself from his chair. “It’s time Tom was sent to school,” he stated. “They’ll soon beat some manners into him at Westminster.”
    Harriet shot him a look half protest, half plea. She had begged for time for Tom to get over losing his father and his beloved brother in the space of two years before he was packed off into the brutal world of Westminster School, and the Duke had reluctantly agreed, but she had no idea how much longer she could hold her ground, and the more unruly Tom was, the more likely his grandfather would insist on his going sooner rather than later.
    “An empty belly can cause forgetfulness, sir,” the Earl said lightly. “May I offer you my arm?”
    “No . . . no, give it to Harriet.” The Duke