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was out of sight, her racing heartbeat slowed from immeasurable to fast. Halfway home, the beat slowed to normal. She had made a total cake of herself and failed to get an answer about the foundry—the future of her home. How could one very forward rake distract her so easily?
    She put down her load, plucked a daisy, and snatched every petal off.
    Obviously her wits had flown. Best to pinch herself hard the next time she met with Mr. Thornbury. Then the pain would halt the onslaught of his attractive figure, his seducing smile, or his laughing blue eyes.
    Elinor grinned when she remembered one of her bracelets—shaped like a snake—that hurt whenever she wore it high upon her arm. The armlet felt just like a pinch. So the next time she planned to meet with Mr. Thornbury, she’d wear the bracelet and let the pain focus her mind. She exhaled a long sigh of relief.
    Tossing the daisy over her shoulder, she grabbed her equipment and started to run.
    Now she had a good plan; William would be impressed. Armed with her painful bracelet, she’d keep her wits sharp and persuade this Mr. Ross Thornbury not to build his foundry. A clear triumph over this charmer who enjoyed making females suffer that… gentle panic .
    How could she possibly fail?

Three
    The second Ross Thornbury stepped over his drawing room’s threshold, his mother asked him a question.
    â€œWell, what do you think?” The sound of Lady Helen Thornbury’s voice filled the cavernous room.
    Ross cringed. Variations of the same query had vexed mankind for centuries. “What do you think?” could easily be interchanged with “How do you like it?” A gentleman had an easier time finding the correct answer if the object of the inquiry was revealed, such as, “Do you like my gown?” Unfortunately, the luxury of knowing the subject of her question eluded him.
    â€œWhat do you think of my alteration?”
    The question sprang from his mother’s lips, so to make her happy, he must find some object that had changed. “Give me a minute.” He inhaled deeply and began his search with the most likely place—her person. Her needlework dropped to her lap as she watched him approach, her pronounced features softened with fondness. To Ross she appeared to have lost at least a stone within the last year, and the small wisps of hair escaping her lace cap were no longer jet. Was the cap new? Doubtful. Next he checked her gown. She wore a black wool gown gathered at the neck with no frills and a paisley shawl wrapped around her shoulders. They both seemed vaguely familiar; therefore, it was a safe bet the alteration did not refer to her current dress. Now he faced the greater task of finding the object of change within the vast room.
    The loud click from his boots reverberated in the expansive space as he turned a full circle several times to survey the mostly vacant drawing room. He searched from the wood floors to the plaster ceiling, but nothing altered stood out. Shifting the pretty blue box he held in his arms, he noticed the movement briefly caught her attention.
    â€œWell, what do you think?” She sat straight upon the new brocade sofa delivered last week.
    â€œHmmm…” The yellow sofa, a wing chair, and four bobbin-turned oak chairs faced the fireplace, leaving thirty feet of bare room behind them. She wore an expectant expression, so he redoubled his efforts to discover what she changed. Finally, at a loss to provide the answer, there was only one thing he could do now to make her happy—bluff. “Very nice,” he said, with a cursory inspection around the entire room. Having done his best to please her by general praise, and a glance that must have encompassed whatever object had changed, he attempted to divert her. “How are you today, dear?” He placed the box on an ornately carved mahogany table in front of her and kissed the top of her head.
    She grabbed his hand and