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coffeehouse or newsstand.”
    â€œAh, Lord Charles, I’ll be waitin’ right here for ye and Sir Jamie, that I will. And ye take yer time. I’ve me papers right here.” Darby, like all the servants in Charles’s employ, adored the old man. He was gracious and generous, and though born into a society where class was a matter of total acceptance, he was also of the belief that God’s behest to man to love one’s brother as he loved himself was the greatest of commandments. He practiced what he preached.
    As Charles turned, Darby gave Jamie a frown. Jamie gave him an imperceptible nod. Aye, he’d protect Charles. With his last breath, if need be. Whether against a cutthroat, an enemy in the House of the Lords—or the wiles of a beautiful woman.
    Charles’s hand fell upon Jamie’s shoulder for a moment as they walked up the steps. “Would that you had been my son! My cousin was a blessed man,” he said softly. “First your father, dearly missed, but now you, as well. I am rightfully proud that you are my kin. And in the event of death if a new marriage does not produce a son . . .”
    â€œSir, I will dance at your wedding with bells on, and pray that your marriage be productive. And you must remember, you are raising a most beautiful young daughter.”
    â€œAh, but we both know a daughter is not a son in the world in which we live! Glad I am, though, boy, and never forget it, that should this marriage bear no fruit, it’s to you that the title and most of my riches will fall. Arianna, though, alas!” Charles frowned, and Jamie knew that young lady had been troubling the old man lately. “I pray to see her duly wed to a good and proper man before my death! Not that she will ever want . . . But I fear for her! I might well have allowed for too much of an education for the girl! She needed a mother so badly. There was so much that I could teach . . . and so much that I could not. If the Lady Maggie only accepts me, she will see to it that Arianna learns the right and wrong of her place in this world. There is far more to wealth than play, Jamie. That you have worked and served is a pleasure to my eyes and my old heart, and yet even a lady, a wife, and a mother, must also learn the gravity of power.”
    â€œArianna is young, and her mind runs to dreams at the moment,” Jamie said. “Give her time.”
    Charles stopped suddenly on the top step. “Pray God that I have the time.” He didn’t dwell on his words, but rapped on the front door with his cane. He wasn’t asking for pity, and he didn’t want any. He had lived his life well, and in his mind, it was simple fact that he had only so many years left to go.
    The door was opened by a butler. A living skeleton, decked out in fading, genteel elegance. Clean as a whistle, and courteous, dignified, and erect as such a servant should be. “Good day, Lord Charles, Sir James. May I take your overcoats and escort you to the parlor? Lord Angus and Baron Graham await you with the greatest pleasure and expectation. Lady Maggie . . . will be down shortly.”
    â€œThank you, my man,” Charles said, hastily shedding coat, hat, gloves, and cane, and entering the parlor on his own while Jamie was still slipping from his greatcoat. The skeletal butler was hiding a small smile. Jamie cracked a grin. “It’s all right, young man, smile away,” he told the butler. “Young love, eh?”
    â€œWell, love, sir, so it appears, at any rate.”
    Jamie nodded, lowered his head, and followed his uncle into the Mortimer parlor.
    Both Angus and Justin were there, shaking hands with Charles. Angus greeted Jamie first, and to his credit, Justin wore a look of pleasure upon seeing that Charles was accompanied by him, and it was obvious, certainly, that he had come as his uncle’s champion, should there be any doubt or difficulty in the situation.
    â€œPlease,