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should be happy to read to you, ma'am," Chelsea blurted out, then caught herself. Alayna would never have offered to read to her aunt.
    "Read to me, eh? Well, that would be quite lovely."
    Chelsea stewed. She simply must keep her wits about her! Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, her eyes flitted nervously over the room. Again, she felt Lady Rathbone studying her the entire time.
    "I detect a marked difference about you, gel," the woman remarked.
    Chelsea held her breath. Was Lady Rathbone about to question why Alayna's sky blue eyes had suddenly turned midnight brown?
    "Can't quite name it, though," the old lady muttered thoughtfully, "however, I expect it will come to me soon enough."
    Chelsea tried to still her rapidly pounding heart. She was making a shambles of pretending to be Alayna. There must be something she could say, or do, that would reassure Lady Rathbone that she was, indeed, her niece. Suddenly, she sprang from her chair and flounced across the room. "Whatever do you suppose is keeping Jared?" she exclaimed with a huff. "I declare I am simply parched. I have been three days shut up in a stuffy carriage and I am sick to death of just sitting about!"
    "Anxious to get to the stables, are you?"
    Chelsea froze. "The stables?"
    "Riding. Lettie tells me you dash to the stables the minute you arrive in Bath. Why, I recall even as a child, your riding skills put Rutherford's to shame."
    Chelsea winced. She hated horses. Had been frightened to pieces of them ever since her parents' unfortunate accident that involved a huge stallion and a run-away team. "Uh," she hedged, "well, if you must know, Aunt Millie, I rarely ride these days. It isn't necessary in Town, you know."
    A gray brow shot up.
    "Though, I admit," Chelsea added airily, "I should like to go into Chester." She began to prance mindlessly about the room, pausing to examine the ancient tapestry, then flitting to a table upon which rested an old leather-bound volume whose title she couldn't quite make out.
    Twisting about on the sofa to watch her niece, Lady Rathbone said, "Would hardly expect the Rows to interest you, young lady."
    "You are quite right, Aunt Millie. I expect the shops in Chester look much the same as they did the last time I visited." Truth to tell, Chelsea had never seen the famous Rows, and would like nothing better than to browse through the multitude of shops there; however, she was quite certain Alayna would find such an excursion dull beyond words. Chelsea exhaled an exaggerated sigh. "I should simply like to purchase a few things," she said. "A sketchbook, perhaps. I must find something useful to do with my time these coming weeks."
    "Useful!" Lady Rathbone exclaimed, pursing her lips. "You are considerably altered, indeed, Alayna. For the better, I might add," she muttered beneath her breath.
    Chelsea grimaced. She was botching things frightfully! She could only wonder why Lady Rathbone hadn't already confronted her and demanded to know the truth. For the moment however she was spared further conversation when the chamber door creaked open and Jared reappeared with the tea things. Chelsea gratefully returned to her chair and didn't mind a bit when Lady Rathbone asked her to serve. It was something to do.
    "Well, I see your years at Miss Farringdon's Academy were not wasted," the older woman remarked after Chelsea had handed her a perfectly poured cup of tea and a small chipped plate piled with buttered toast and two greasy tarts of some sort. "Your aunts have no doubt put your talents to good use these last years, I expect. A young lady with exemplary social skills is sure to be an asset in Town."
    Sipping her tea, Chelsea murmured a nervous agreement to that sentiment, then managed to evasively answer additional questions regarding Alayna's aunts, Lettie and Hermione, both of whom Alayna had remembered to tell Chelsea were spending the spring and summer months in Brighton.
    "And Eudora? Is she still in London?"
    Chelsea paused. She