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and the Lord
knows, with me only half on my feet, we cannot afford to have you working yourself
into the vapors. Now go on,” she commanded briskly. “I vow I shall not worry
you by reading in the dark or staring at the sun for half an hour on end. All your patients are abed, Renna. Do you get
some rest as well. And tell Lyn and Jack that I shall dine with you all this
evening.”
    “Very well, ma’am. I think Mr. Bradwell may be along to see
you sometime later, in any case.”
    “Send him along. And I wish you will call him Lyn, my dear,”
the lady admonished from her bed, sinking again into the pillows.
    Rowena, musing that her address of the prodigal son of Broak
Hall was certainly the least of her problems, gently shut the door and returned
to the library. Lyn Bradwell was alone, making a poor attempt to read the
sporting papers.
    “Ambercot went off to inform his mother that Miss Ambercot
would be all right, and staying here for a short time,” he informed her. “And,
I collect, to counteract Miss Eliza’s hysterics as best he might. Aside from
the manner of a Tunbridge dowager, the chit has a habit of clinging . She’s thrown a dreadful crease into the
sleeve of this coat.” He smiled, a little wanly, and flicked at an imaginary
crease with one finger. “That was meant to
be a pleasantry, you know,”
    “Thank you,” Rowena answered gently, and dropped with no
further ceremony into a chair.
    “How do the invalids go on?”
    “They’re fast asleep, which Dr. Cribbatt insists is the best
thing for them. And your mother wished me to tell you that she will dine
downstairs with you this evening. If you wish to go up and see her —” Rowena
left the suggestion hanging.
    “I collect you have already told her it was my intention to
do so?” Bradwell asked dryly.
    “Do you mind, sir?”
    “Of course not. Thank you for reminding me, in fact. For a
—” He hesitated.
    “For a Managing Female?” Rowena suggested helpfully.
Bradwell had the grace to blush as he continued.
    “For a Managing Female, if you insist, ma’am, you are a
remarkably able manager, and a light-handed one, too. In most cases.”
    “For shame, Mr. Bradwell, just when I was prepared to accept
that as a compliment, however ill phrased!”
    “Come now, Miss Cherwood. You took charge with the air of a
sergeant-major in the kitchen and a very good thing, as the rest of us loobies
were completely unable to move.” He poured a glass of sherry from a decanter at
his elbow and offered it to her. “You do seem a trifle young to have developed
that air of authority.”
    “Years of following the drum gave me an excellent training.
But I think I assume my sergeant-majority only when it seems that’s all that’s
left to do. Certainly, what I wanted to do in the kitchen was sit down on the
floor and cry, or scream as Eliza Ambercot was doing. Which would have been
very little to the purpose. And after all, it was my notion to mess about in
the kitchen.” Again, remorse growled in Miss Cherwood’s lowered voice. “My
cousin and Jane Ambercot lying upstairs, all for the sake of ginger nuts for
tea!” She spilled a drop of sherry on her dress. “Damn!” she said and gave
assiduous attention to rubbing at the spot. Bradwell tactfully ignored both the
slip of her tongue and the tremor in her voice.
    “Poor Miss Cherwood,” he drawled at last. “You’ve been so
busy handling everyone else’s hysterics you’ve had no time for your own.”
    “Nonsense,” Rowena countered a little more briskly. “I verily
thrive on adversity, Mr. Bradwell.”
    Before Lyn Bradwell had a chance to dispute Rowena’s
statement, the door opened barely a hair’s width and Lord Bradwell was peering
around the door. “Are they gone?”
    “Lully and Eliza? Yes, certainly my lord. Come in and take a
glass of sherry for your nerves,” Rowena offered kindly.
    “Thank you.” He breathed definitely. “It — O damme, I might
as well be blunt. Miss Ambercot,