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easier.”
    “Lady?” Mrs. Quick sneered. “Why not say so? People’d be tripping over themselves to get their brats into your school.”
    “I have my reasons.” Fiona removed her apron and handed it to the woman. “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Quick. Miss Mairead will be home soon. We have to get dinner finished.”
    The housekeeper crossed her arms and stayed put. “Already is. I assume she’s a lady, too.”
    Fiona gave up. “Why don’t you join me in the parlor, gentlemen. I have a fire there. Would you like some tea? Mrs. Quick would be happy to get it for us.”
    Mrs. Quick snorted. Fiona turned for the parlor. Laying their hats on the boulé table by the door, the men followed.
    Fiona felt as if she were suddenly walking across an uncertain floor. She had the shivery feeling one gets upon waking from a vivid dream to wonder where she was. What was real. The air seemed to close in on her, and she felt off balance. Why were they here? What did they want? What more could they take from her?
    The only thing that kept Fiona from panicking completely was the small satisfaction of shutting the parlor door in Mrs. Quick’s face. She waited for the inevitable hmmph and receding footsteps before turning to the men.
    “I apologize for not having anything stronger than tea,” she said, walking over to settle onto one of the chairs so the men could enjoy the marginally more comfortable settee. “This is a girls’ school.”
    Flipping their tails, the men gingerly perched on the couch. Fiona had the most ridiculous urge to giggle.
    “You have your own school?” Chuffy asked, looking around. “Mighty successful in six weeks.”
    She smiled. “No. I have been watching over it for Mrs. Bryan. She had to relocate to Margate for her health and didn’t want to leave the children without teachers. Fortunately, Mairead and I were able to help. You truly want to see me?”
    She felt so overwhelmed. Beset by memories and the dry remnants of old dreams.
    “Searching everywhere,” Chuffy said, pushing his glasses up his nose.
    Alex’s smile was rueful. “We intended to question your correspondents as to your whereabouts. Mrs. Bryan was the first.”
    She blinked. “My…”
    “You really know Gauss?” Chuffy demanded, head up, eyes alert. “Carl Gauss?”
    Fiona struggled to keep up. “Well, yes. But how did you know?”
    “Your grandfather’s secretary. Mr. Bryce-Jones. Worried about you.”
    She felt her heart shrivel. “Ah, so you’ve been to see my grandfather. I am sorry for that. He is not the easiest person. Especially now. You see, he has a rather violent aversion to the idea that the family tree might contain a…”
    Pain sliced through her chest. Poor Ian.
    “Traitor,” Chuffy supplied for her with a big nod. “Not.”
    She blinked. “Pardon?”
    Alex leaned forward. “We have news.”
    For a moment Fiona thought Alex might take her hands again. He didn’t. She felt the loss of those fingers deep in her chest where the remnants of old dreams still smoldered. Useless dreams. Dreams she had no right to. Her grandfather had made sure to acquaint her with that sad truth.
    “News,” she repeated stupidly. “Something to do with my grandfather’s edict, I assume. I cannot imagine he failed to tell you of our banishment.”
    “He did. But what if I told you that you could go home?”
    She blinked. The feeling of disorientation grew. “I would say no thank you.”
    Alex smiled back, and Fiona was the one leaning forward now, as if she could warm herself on him.
    “Even if it meant having your brother back?” he asked.
    She stared at him, her mind frozen. For the longest moment, she couldn’t seem to comprehend what he was saying. Something about Ian.
    “But I can’t have my brother back,” she whispered, thinking that his smile was suddenly cruel. “You told me so yourself.”
    “I was wrong. We all were. Ian is alive.”
    She sprang to her feet. “What?”
    He rose as well. He stepped