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philosophy rock?’’
    ‘‘Philosopher’s Stone.’’ Ford considered. He could turn this interest to his advantage. ‘‘Maybe. Maybe you and Jewel together can help me.’’
    Rowan set down the bottle. ‘‘Maybe she will teach me some practical jokes.’’
    ‘‘I’m sure your mother would love that,’’ Ford said dryly. But his heart took flight. Finally, Lady Trentingham’s plan seemed to be working—thanks to Jewel’s prank.
    Whoever would have thought?
    ‘‘Let’s go down,’’ he said. ‘‘Hilda will be mighty vexed if we don’t finish her tart.’’
    As Ford led him to the stairs, Rowan gave a wistful sigh. ‘‘What other science do you do?’’
    ‘‘Oh, astronomy, mathematics, physics, physiology . . .’’
    The boy jumped down each step with both feet.
    Clunk. One step. ‘‘I hate mathematics.’’ Clunk. Another step.

    ‘‘But mathematics can be fascinating. Like a puzzle.’’
    Clunk. ‘‘Not when Mr. Baxter teaches it.’’
    ‘‘Mr. Baxter?’’
    ‘‘My tutor.’’ Clunk. Clunk. ‘‘He’s boring.’’ Around they went, past the middle level to the ground floor, Rowan clunking all the long way. ‘‘Jewel said you can show me the stars.’’
    ‘‘I can. If you’re here of an evening.’’
    ‘‘Really?’’ At the bottom, Rowan pushed past him and ran straight into the dining room. ‘‘Violet!’’
    Arriving in the chamber, Ford saw her gaze sweep the boy from head to toe. She bit her lip—to keep from laughing, he was sure—but her eyes danced with humor as she looked pointedly to Jewel.
    ‘‘I’m sorry about your clothes,’’ Jewel told Rowan obediently, if not quite sincerely. Clearly Violet had had a talk with her in the men’s absence.
    Rowan shrugged. ‘‘That’s all right.’’ He hitched up Ford’s too-long breeches and turned to his sister.
    ‘‘Lord Lakefield says if I play with Jewel, he will show me science. And the stars. Will you bring me?’’
    ‘‘You’re willing to play with Jewel?’’ A note of incredulity crept into Violet’s voice. ‘‘After what she did?’’
    ‘‘She’s not like other girls. Will you bring me again tonight? To see the stars?’’
    She looked hesitant, but perhaps intrigued as well.
    ‘‘You’re certainly welcome,’’ Ford hurried to tell her.
    ‘‘It looks to be a clear night.’’
    ‘‘Maybe,’’ she said. ‘‘I’ll think about it.’’
    Ford mentally crossed his fingers. If Rowan could convince her to bring him back, surely he’d tire of seeing ‘‘science’’ after a short while. Then Violet could take the children elsewhere, and he would be left to work in peace.
    At this point, even a few hours sounded like heaven.

Chapter Six
    ‘‘She wrecked his breeches, Mum!’’ Violet paced her mother’s perfumery, skimming a finger along the neatly labeled vials. ‘‘ ’Twas amusing, I’ll admit, but I don’t know how that glue and mud will wash out.’’
    ‘‘ ’Twas a harmless prank, dear.’’ Chrystabel calmly plucked violet petals and tossed them into her distillation bowl, hoping the namesake scent would soothe her daughter. ‘‘And you did say Rowan wants to go back.’’
    ‘‘Yes, but I cannot understand why.’’ Pacing to one of the window niches, Violet perched a knee on the bench seat and leaned to look out. ‘‘How can he like her after this? Especially when he didn’t like her before.’’
    ‘‘I’ve never understood how men’s minds work, myself. Does your philosophy give you no clue to that?’’
    Everything below was a blur. ‘‘ ‘It may be said of men in general that they are ungrateful and fickle,’ ’’
    she quoted.
    ‘‘And who said that?’’
    ‘‘Machiavelli.’’ She turned from the window. ‘‘Now Rowan wants to go tonight to see the stars. And I fear he’ll want to go back again tomorrow.’’
    ‘‘Is that not what we’ve been hoping would happen all along?’’ Mum’s fingers flew as she pulled