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requested that a young lady by the name of Alexia might be sent to comfort her?”
    “My daughter?” Charles asked.
    “Yes, that would seem right.”
    He closed his eyes. Of course Sarah would call for Alexia—they had been all but sisters, only five years difference in age. The question was whether Sarah would welcome her estranged brother into her home. He was, after all, the one who arranged her match, and she had not so much as written him since.
    “The butler will see you out.” He escaped the room and nearly ran into Alexia. “Your uncle is dead.”
    She feigned shock.
    “Well?”
    Her battle to keep the enthusiasm from her twitching lips brought a smile to his. “Yes, Father?”
    “Do you wish to see Sarah, or not?”
    “I should be delighted to go to her.”
    “I thought as much. You depart for Liverpool in the morning.”

12
    Liverpool 
     
    Liverpool was the opposite direction of Wilhamshire, but the prospect of seeing Sarah filled Alexia with giddy anticipation. She could not wait! What was more, her aunt might know something of the mysterious caller or her unexpected change.
    Her parents stayed behind to make further preparations. She and two escorts rode for three days in a carriage hired by her aunt. The summer Alexia turned twelve, Sarah had been unhappily married to a man three times her age. They had corresponded through letters the past five years, but a great deal went unsaid.
    Stinging salty air hit Alexia’s nose as the carriage came to a halt. Silhouetted by the sunset, at least fifty lit windows beamed above a vast open yard, sheltered by multiple jutting chimneys and three floors of sprawling, stylish brick. Alexia had had absolutely no idea what kind of wealth Sarah married into—until now—yet something about the panorama bothered her. Had she seen it before?
    Impossible. Maybe a similar house, a comparable yard, a likeness in a painting?
    Taking one last look about the grounds, she stepped into the house, unable to dismiss the odd twist of her stomach.
    A vast chasm of a room met her. Checkerboard crème and tan tile reflected light from a giant chandelier at the chamber’s apex , which illuminated an upper balcony and rail.
    “No, I will not have it!” A moan echoed from the upper floor, balkanizing the room. “You will throw it all out or be removed yourself!”
    Alexia’s jaw dropped as her raven-haired aunt appeared. The vibrant hue of skin, the olive sparkle in her eyes, the way she’d thinned in the face . . . Had she been so dazzling when they parted?
    The clatter of amassing baggage turned Sarah’s head.
    “Lexy!” She leapt down the stairs four at a time, sliding to a halt before her near-sister and straightening up formally. She cleared her throat. “Welcome to my home.”
    “You are older.” Alexia didn’t mean to be blunt.
    “I am older? Look at you!” She scowled, nose crinkling. “You are not my baby sister. I cannot go to court with you for fear of being outshone!”
    Some things about Sarah would never change. Alexia stuck out her tongue. Sarah mimicked her. They burst into laughter and embraced.
    “Oh, Lexy, you have become a woman and I a widow. Is it not a strange world we live in?”
    Alexia let her go. “Father sends his regards. He will arrive shortly.”
    Sarah’s face straightened matter-of-factly. “So long as he does not miss his brother-in-law’s funeral, good riddance!”
    Where had this sardonic Sarah come from?
    “But you must be weary! We shall have so much time for reacquainting that I shan’t keep you from your bed. Come, enjoy all the hospitality my home may offer.” She hugged her near-sister again, shivering with delight. “No, I changed my mind. Come eat, talk to me—tell me everything! We will sleep tomorrow.”
    Once seated in the dining room, she quizzed Alexia about the changes in their home and parents. Alexia battered her in return with just as many questions, holding the one back that wanted to escape. She would