Turning, she started back to the house. Franni would be safe enough-and if she hadn't returned within the hour, she'd send a groom after her. Meanwhile, thanks to her husband's penchant for games at dawn, her stomach was growling. Breakfast sounded like a very good idea.

Over breakfast, Francesca, Charles, and Ester agreed to walk across the park to visit at the Dower House. Lady Elizabeth had issued the invitation last night.

Francesca looked up the table and raised a brow at Gyles. He shook his head. He needed to get on with his researching-what better time than with the house to himself?

Ester turned to Franni, who had recently joined them. "You'll like to see the Dower House. Remember? We passed it when we drove through the gates."

Franni's expression was blank, as if she'd gone within in search of the memory. Slowly, she shook her head. "I don't want to go. I'll stay here."

Charles leaned across and laid his hand over Franni's. "You'll enjoy the walk across the park under the trees."

Franni shook her head. Her face took on a mulish cast Charles, Ester, and Francesca knew well. "No. I'll stay here."

Charles eased back, glancing at Ester and Francesca. Francesca smiled reassuringly. She looked at Franni. "That's quite all right. You can stay here by all means, but if you should go walking, do remember to take a footman, just in case you get lost."

Franni blinked at her, then nodded and went back to her kedgeree.

Ester sighed. Francesca turned to her. "How soon shall we leave?"

Charles drained his coffee cup. "Give me five minutes to change my coat."

"You may take ten." Ester pushed back her chair. "I must change into a walking dress, and Francesca will want to do the same."

The three of them rose and left the breakfast parlor. Gyles strolled out with them. Reaching the top of the stairs, Francesca glanced back and saw Gyles hesitating in the hall, looking back at the breakfast parlor. Then he swung on his heel and walked to his study.

Ten minutes later, she, Charles, and Ester descended the front steps and strolled onto the forecourt.

"What a lovely arrangement of trees." Ester studied the six pencil pines set in mirror image on either side of the drive. "And those troughs set the whole off wonderfully. Such lovely old things."

Francesca's inner smile was wider than the one on her lips. The troughs had been disinterred without mishap and had cleaned up remarkably well. "Autumn crocuses are so pretty massed like that."

Behind them, the front door opened, then shut. They all looked around.

Gyles came down the steps, then strode up.

Francesca blinked. "I thought you were busy."

Gyles smiled charmingly, knowing that while he would fool Charles and Ester, his wife was immune to his wiles. "It's such a glorious day, and we won't have many more. The chance of a walk was too good to pass up, and there's one or two points I want to check with Horace, so duty can, in this instance, justifiably bow to inclination."

Charles and Ester accepted his excuse readily. Francesca studied his eyes, but refrained from asking the questions he could see forming in hers. He offered his arm, and she took it. Charles offered his to Ester, and they headed off beneath the nearly bare branches.

They passed a comfortable morning with Lady Elizabeth,

Henni, and Horace, then returned through the park in time for lunch. Franni didn't join them.

"She's sleeping," Ester reported as she took her seat at the table.

"Just as well," Charles returned. "She's been walking here even more than she does at home. Although she enjoys it, we'll be leaving tomorrow, so it's all to the good if she rests."

During the meal, Charles and Gyles discussed estate matters while Francesca caught up with the news from Rawlings Hall.

"I could do with a nap myself," Ester confided to Francesca as they left the dining room. "I find it hard to sleep in a rocking coach, and it'll be a long drive to Bath tomorrow."

Francesca watched Ester climb the stairs. In the hall behind her, she heard Gyles giving instructions to Edwards, who had presented himself at Gyles's request. Charles wished to view the succession houses. Francesca turned to see her uncle stride off with Edwards. She met her husband's eye as he turned her way. She smiled, then turned toward the family parlor.

His hand closed about her arm and she halted. His grip eased; his fingers trailed down to tangle with hers. Surprised, she turned to face him.

His eyes held hers, then he said, "I wondered... if you haven't anything pressing, would you help me with my research?"

She tried to keep her heart from leaping, or at least keep the fact from showing. "Your parliamentary research?"

"There's a hundred references to check and cross-check. If you're not busy...?"

She smiled, aware that his fingers had already closed firmly about hers. "I'm not busy. I'll be happy to help."

She spent the entire afternoon with him. He had a list of books with notes on what he needed from each one. They worked down the list, book by book, Gyles at his desk, reading and taking notes, while she searched for the next volume or, having found it, sat in a chair beside the desk and located the information he was after.

When he finished a book, she'd exchange it for the next, pointing out the relevant text. He'd accept the new book and start reading while she returned the previous volume to its shelf. In the first few exchanges, he read the entire section, but thereafter she noted he focused only on the passage she indicated. She inwardly smiled. Their researching went faster.

Charles looked in a few hours later. He saw what they were about and asked after Gyles's interest. An amicable discussion ensued, which lasted until Ester, fresh from her nap, joined them, and it was time for afternoon tea.

Francesca rang and instructed Wallace to serve them in the library.

"Franni?" she asked, looking at Ester.

"She's awake but dozy-you know how she gets. Happy as a lark, but she wants nothing more than to loll in her bed. Ginny's with her, and knows to get her ready for dinner, so all's well."

Ginny was Franni's old maid. She'd been Franni's nurse and was devoted to her charge. Given Francesca had not been with them in the coach this time, Ginny had been brought to help with Franni, who was not easy over having maids she didn't know attend her.

Francesca poured the tea. They all sat and sipped. The afternoon passed in easy contentment.

"Maria vergine! Impossibile!"

Gyles was in his room dressing for dinner; he heard the exclamations and the spate of frenzied Italian that followed them, delivered in a definitely masculine voice.

Wallace, holding Gyles's cravat, stilled. "Ferdinand." He laid aside the linen band. "I'll remove him immediately."

"No." Gyles stayed Wallace with an upraised hand; although he couldn't hear her words, he could hear Francesca speaking. "Stay here."

Gyles crossed to the door leading to Francesca's bedchamber. Opening it, he saw Millie standing in the middle of the room, staring at the open door leading to Francesca's sitting room, through which another tirade of frantic Italian rolled forth.

Millie started as Gyles entered the room. He ignored her and crossed to the open door.

In the middle of her sitting room, Francesca stood wrapped in a dressing robe, arms folded, and waited for Ferdinand to run out of breath.

When he did, and paused, she spoke in a tone that effectively put an end to his hopes. "You're supposedly an experienced chef. It's beyond my comprehension that you are, so you say, unable to place a meal of any merit on the table before eight o'clock, despite having been warned this morning that dinner tonight will be at seven."

He answered with another torrent of Italian; once she caught his gist, she silenced him with an upraised hand.