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Hildegard paled, then reddened as her gaze locked on Izzy.
    Izzy fancied she could see the wheels turning in her cousin's head. Perhaps Hildegard was remembering the many small indignities she had heaped on Izzy over the years: the small cold bed chamber, the cheap gowns, the rudeness, the demands. As Izzy watched Hildegard's color deepen, she wondered if her cousin was recalling the last hellish week, the accusations and the shrieking tirades.
    Izzy smiled serenely. No more abuse from that quarter, at least for four blissful months. Then she would be gone. Across the sea and far away.
     
    The next afternoon brought another surprising caller for Izzy.
    "Lady Bottomly to see you, miss." Spears, the butler at Marchwell Manor, was on his best behavior. Although in the past he had referred to her as Temple, like a housekeeper or governess, he was now deference itself.
    No doubt angling to enter the future duke's service, Izzy thought, as she tripped lightly down the stairs. She often felt like running these days. Running and laughing and, when no one was near, even singing—although her singing voice was putrid.
    Now, burning with curiosity as to what had prompted the divine Celia to call, she entered the same yellow parlor where Lord Blackworth had been received.
    This time, Hildegard had raced her there and had Lady Bottomly pinned down with her bombastic manner.
    "Hildegard, if you'll please excuse us, Lady Bottomly and I have so much to talk about."
    Sputtering in shock at such rudeness, Hildegard swung about to deliver a sound reprimand. Meanwhile, Izzy had slipped around her and now sat with Lady Bottomly.
    "Oh, and Hildegard, dear, please ask Spears for a pot of tea and some cakes. Lady Bottomly will be wanting some refreshment shortly." Smiling in dismissal, Izzy turned back to the woman on the settee.
    Huffing with offended dignity, Hildegard left, giving the door a decided slam.
    Izzy sighed. "I apologize, my lady. I am not rude by nature, but my cousin does bring out the worst in me. Please, tell me what I can do for you."
    Lady Bottomly looked back at her for a long moment. Then she stood and paced before the fire, the fine silk of her skirts whispering with each restless movement.
    The lady's voice was musically breathy, and suited her ethereal looks to perfection.
    "You know, don't you?" Gloved hands twisting, she looked away. "You know about that night… Lord Blackworth and myself?"
    "I suspected." Part of Izzy wished Lady Bottomly would deny it. She didn't.
    "Miss Temple, have you ever wanted a dream to be true so badly that you would throw out everything you have been taught, just to make it so? Or the truth to be merely a dream?"
    Celia raised tear-filled eyes that shone like jewels, looking so enchanting that Izzy was torn between pure hatred and unconditional surrender. How did the woman do it? Izzy's own tears, rare as they were, left her looking like a turret gargoyle. Lady Bottomly looked like a heartbroken angel.
    The lady sniffled. Even that was charming. "I do not know why you did what you did. I know I should be grateful. You saved me from discovery, but you also kept me from my last chance for a bit of happiness."
    "My lady, you have no need to explain yourself to me. It is none of my affair."
    A nervous laugh burst from Lady Bottomly at Izzy's choice of words, and Izzy couldn't fight a tiny chuckle herself.
    "How can you be so accepting?" the lady asked. "How can you not berate me for my sins and my cowardice? I know that none of this would have come about had it not been for me. I should have been willing to pay the price for my own actions, not expect Eppie to.
    "Please, Miss Temple, please let him go. Do not use my mistake to trap him. He'll be miserable, and make you quite unhappy, as well. Believe me, marrying a stranger for a title and fortune can be a… a grave error."
    Izzy's jaw dropped in surprise. That someone might have the perception that she was manipulating Lord Blackworth had not