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us.”
    I stared at her, horrified. “She can’t order us there, then.”
    “She can do whatever she wants. Wait until you meet her. I’d sooner endure a caning.”
    “Well, I’m not going.” I crossed my arms. “I won’t attend. She can’t force me .”
    Elizabeth straightened, unfolding her feet. “Mama will go into hysterics if you refuse.”
    “It’s Edward’s house, Elizabeth!”
    She sagged against the bed. “That is exactly why you must go. Think of it—in her beastliness, she’s provided you a chance to speak with Edward.”
    I shook my head, feeling the heaviness of my rag curls. Theidea of reuniting with Edward before peerage, before his parents, was unthinkable. “I thought he no longer dined with the gentry.”
    “He’d come if you wrote and asked him to.” Elizabeth’s voice became urgent as she knelt before me.
    “You think I would act so desperate!” I cried too loudly.
    “Girls!” Mrs. Windham’s voice carried from her bedchamber.
    “Well,” Elizabeth whispered, rising, “something has to be done to change these circumstances.”
    I sat in silence as the cold embraced me. All week I’d clung to the desperate hope that Edward would call upon Am Meer and miraculously things would somehow fit together again.
    The balm of such a fantasy was that Edward would beg, and be granted, my forgiveness. But that I should be the one to plead . . .
    I crumpled my nightgown in my fist. It was vinegar on a wound.
    “Och,” I recalled Sarah, my nursemaid, saying at her departure, her gnarled hands wiping tears from my cheeks, “I pray yer’ll find some manner of happiness, child.”
    At the time, my confidence in Edward was such that I’d looked her in the eye, trying to communicate that I had a plan, I’d be fine. Her mouth remained tight, however, as my solicitor moved forward to separate us.
    I schooled my thoughts away from that unhappy event and returned to the matter at hand. Better Edward than some farmer. If it took begging, then I’d beg.
    At the writing desk, I lifted a sheet of stationery, which Mrs. Windham generously supplied. It took several drafts, for my first attempts were steeped with hurt and bitterness. But by the time the pearly light of dawn flushed the room, I had composed a letter which I felt confident would move Edward to compassion—if any part of him that I’d known still existed.
    I delivered the note to Elizabeth, still abed, requesting thatshe find a way to put it into Edward’s hand, then returned to my bedchamber to attempt to catch an hour of sleep.

    Four days later, I braced myself in a swaying carriage as sobbing wind and great sheets of rain assaulted it. Elizabeth glumly watched trails of water cascading down the window while Mrs. Windham mouthed words, making graceful waves of her hand and elegant head nods as she continued to practice my introduction to Lady Foxmore. All week I’d endured Mrs. Windham’s fluttering handkerchief as she declared herself a fit of nerves over my introduction.
    For my own part, I sat quiet despite my screaming thoughts. It had been three weeks since I first arrived at Am Meer. I hadn’t much longer before I’d be shipped to Scotland. If Edward failed to make an appearance tonight, I had no recourse.
    At the crunch of gravel, I leaned forward, anxious to view Edward’s childhood home. It might seem odd that I’d never glimpsed Auburn Manor, given our relationship, but the residence was gated, and as a rule, Mama’s prejudice steered her clear of all titled gentry. Edward likewise kept our trysts far from his parents’ land, lest through discovery our hopes be destroyed.
    The house stood at the end of a row of chestnut trees. Welcoming lights poured from mullioned windows and glimmered over the wet grounds. Enthralled, I touched the coach window. It was lovelier than I’d imagined.
    “Do not ruffle me.” Mrs. Windham batted me from the window with her closed fan as the carriage stopped. “If my gown