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fine example of aristocracy: handsome and clever and elegant. And inside he was a cheat and a murderer several times over! An honest coal-heaver would have been a better choice for a husband!”
    â€œThis also is so. However, one is born to a certain station in life, bambina, and no matter what people may say, this it will never change. Was we all to become the coal-heavers there still would be the strongest among the heavers, or the one who sells the most coal would become the Aristocrat among Coal-Heavers and gradually he would pull away from the common herd. It is the way of the world. You loved your papa. Do you thinking he would countenance a marriage between Consuela Carlotta Angelica Jones, of the royal house of Ottavio, and a young English captain who has a haunted and decaying old country estate and expectations of the smallest?” Lady Francesca flung up one hand, silencing Consuela’s attempt to comment. “I know what you will say. He was, and I admit this, a gallant and brave soldier. But he also is either the son of the wicked Sir Kendrick Vespa—who was directly responsible for your own father’s death—”
    â€œYou know he is not Sir Kendrick’s son,” interposed Consuela fierily. “That evil man almost killed Jack as well as my Papa, and—”
    â€œIn the which case,” overrode the old lady with a daunting frown, “your Captain Jack is the natural child of a mystery man about whom we know nothings at all.”
    â€œBut we will, dearest! You and I and dear Toby and Paige, we all are trying to help Jack find the gentleman.”
    â€œAnd if we succeed, how then is it? Your fine captain is too fond of his Mama to shame her by refusing to any longer bear her name.”
    â€œY-yes. Perhaps. But—but if we find that his real father is a fine and honourable man, then you can at least be easy and know what his—his background is.”
    â€œAnd Jack still will be no less of a bastard who will accept neither the Vespa fortune nor the title!”
    â€œGrandmama!” Her cheeks pink with anger, Consuela sprang to her feet.
    â€œSignorina!” Lady Francesca stood also and drew herself up to her full fifty-seven inches. In her stockinged feet Consuela was four inches taller, but her grandmother’s head was thrown back regally, her fine dark eyes could still flash fire, and in that moment she seemed to tower over the girl.
    â€œYou will be quiet and pay me heed,” she commanded, her voice harsh. “I am knowing of the great service Captain Jack Vespa made us in proving your Papa’s murder. I am knowing of the fact that his life he risked and almost lost in saving yours. We are beholden. It is for this reasons I have allowing you to come to London with me, and that I will help him in his quest. He is a good man, si. But when all the facts are whispered about Town, as soon they must be, he will be a very much disgraced man. Your line it is proud. Your prospects they are most fine. I would be a poor nonna if I allowed you to be shamed by marriage to a man whose only hope for holding up of his head is to leave the country!”
    â€œOh!” Wrath rendered Consuela almost speechless, and to add to her mental turmoil was the awareness that the old lady loved her and wanted only the best for her. “H-how can you speak of him so?” she spluttered. “He is—is one of the most popular young men in London! Everybody likes him and has only good to say of him!”
    In this, however, she was mistaken. The maid, who at that moment was admitting Captain John Vespa to the suite, neither liked nor admired him, and what she had to say of him to her intimates was far from good. Violet Manning, whose life was not unpleasant, might grumble, as was the fashion, about her ‘fussy’ employers, but she was also proud of them. She lost no opportunity to point out that although the Duchess of Ottavio was a foreign