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said, hastily following
behind, careful of his full glasses.
    When they reached the table, they handed out the lemonade
with a flourish.
    “I told you, young man, that I was parched,” Miss Sadie said
caustically, accepting her glass. “And yet you stood over there blabbering and
conversing like three hens while we have been left suffering.”
    “Indeed, ma’am, that was not our intent,” Thaddeus murmured
smoothly. He drew a chair forward so that he could sit as close to Amelia as
was seemly. Under cover of adjusting her shawl as it had fallen to the ground,
he whispered to her, “What is wrong? Are you ill?”
    Amelia turned a melancholy smile upon him and murmured
beneath her breath so that he strained to hear her. “It’s been rather like a
happy dream, has it not?”
    “What has?”
    “Us.”
    Thaddeus did not pretend to misunderstand her. Though he
occasionally allowed himself to slip into scientific abstraction where all he
thought about was his work, he did have flashes of lucidity. Amelia’s presence
often put him in a similar romantic stupor of thought, but the actions of his
neighbors had wiped the bemusement from his mind.
    “Be brave,” he encouraged, taking her hand. He ignored
everyone else around them and focused his attention entirely on her. Amelia’s
expression brightened as his words sank in. “We have allies.”

Chapter Eight
     
    In spite of efforts to pry them away over the next few
hours, the Misses White affixed themselves to Amelia like gum plasters.
Gradually, once the initial shock wore off, other members of their small
community began to nod and curtsy as they passed. No one wanted to be seen
giving the cut indirect to the Misses White or the squire and his wife, or to
Mr. Milborough’s socially prominent cousins. The vicar and his wife sat with
them during the luncheon but moved through the villagers afterward.
     
    After three hours, Kathryn had not managed to utter a single
direct question to the younger woman. Her husband urged her to learn more about
the girl but she confessed that she was thwarted on every front. Finally,
instructing Justin to carry his cousin away to play at lawn skittles, Raven
offered to escort Amelia to the sidelines of the playing lane to watch the two
men throw while his wife kept the spinsters entertained.
    “When you and Thaddeus arrived,” Raven said, his tone gentle
and kind, setting her at ease, “I thought he looked very happy with his
companions.”
     
    “Thank you. I thought you were a valet when I first saw
you,” Amelia confessed, struggling to keep her composure as they dawdled toward
their destination.
    “Believe me, my dear Miss Horton,” he said, laughing, “you
are not the first person to think so.” He leaned toward her as if imparting a
secret. “Many people call me the Black Duke. It is a sobriquet to which I have
grown accustomed.”
    “Why do you wear only black?” she asked, tempted by his easy
manner to be more forward than customary.
    “It is a long story, my dear,” Raven replied, softening his
rebuff with a chuckle. “I would like to hear more about you. Where is your
family? Why are you alone here in Yorkshire? No, no. Please, do not stiffen
up.”
    “Your grace,” Amelia said in a small voice choked with
emotion, “I would hardly reveal to you, a stranger, what I have not yet
explained to Mr. Milborough.”
    “Of course not. You misunderstand me,” Raven said, his voice
calm. “I do not require the intimate details of why you are in Yorkshire.
Merely what you might tell anyone.”
    Amelia looked at him suspiciously. He was a very handsome,
fit man even though gray hair stood out at his temples and smile lines creased
his face. She gazed deeply into his gray eyes and saw sympathy there.
Unaccountably, she felt that she could confide all to him. However, she did
not. She granted him the abbreviated explanation.
    “Hinderwell is almost as far away from Weymouth as my
parents could think to send me.