The Morrison house in London was enough to make her jaw drop. Regina always forgot how much money the Morrisons had until it was staring her in the face. She had never been to their London residence before. She had expected—perhaps naïvely—that it would be similar to Lord Harrison’s house.

It wasn’t. Lord and Lady Morrison had clearly gone all out in their preparations. The house was done up in rich colors. Each room had its own color: soft pink in the front parlor. Powder blue in the sitting room. Red in the dining room. Yellow in the back parlor.

The house was also twice the size of Lord Harrison’s. Regina got lost on her first day. The housekeeper had to help her get back to her room. She had to admit that the house was beautiful, tasteful, and showed off Lord Morrison’s wealth. There was nothing distasteful about it. And yet, she preferred Lord Harrison’s house.

Lord Harrison’s house had felt like a proper home. There was love in each decorating choice. The Morrison house felt more like it was designed to be shown off.

Still, she couldn’t complain. Lady Morrison’s mother was a lovely woman. Regina had expected nothing less. Lady Morrison, née Mathilda Braxton, was a lively woman. She was educated and had a sparkling sense of humor. She also liked to skirt impropriety. She did it in such a way that it entertained people and just barely stopped short of a scandal.

Her mother, unsurprisingly, was the same. She was full of life and energy despite her age. And she insisted right away that Regina dispense with the “Mrs. Braxton.”

“I am to be your hostess,” she said, “and I want to be one you can properly confide in. Call me Jane, as you would your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have any girlfriends,” Regina admitted. There were just her sisters. And only Bridget could really be called a friend. Louisa was nice enough, but they weren’t close. And Natalie and Elizabeth merely tolerated Regina.

“My daughter is,” Mrs. Braxton pointed out. “But if you think she doesn’t count, then I shall be your first.”

Regina wasn’t quite comfortable with calling her ‘Jane.’ Especially with so many years between them. They compromised and had Regina called her ‘Aunt Jane.’

“I know the sort of temptations that London is full of,” Aunt Jane said. “I only ask that if you grow curious, you tell me. I shall show you how to do things properly.”

Regina could only begin to imagine the sort of things Aunt Jane referred to. But she thought she might test the waters slightly.

“What if I wanted to learn something that ladies ought not to learn?”

“Such as?” Aunt Jane asked.

“…such as…” Regina thought. “Well, cooking.”

“Then I would say that’s an odd thing to want to learn, but I won’t stop you,” Aunt Jane replied.

“And what if I wanted to keep odd hours?”

“I would ask you not to wake me.”

Aunt Jane put her hand over Regina’s. “My dear. My daughter had her own time sampling what the world had to offer. As did I. As long as you are smart about it, I see no reason for any of it to cloud your future or your reputation.”

Regina was not so sure of that herself. But she was grateful for it if it meant that Aunt Jane wouldn’t ask questions.

The Morrison house was, thankfully, only two doors down from Lord Harrison’s. It was part of why Regina had asked if she could stay with them. It was easy enough for her to exit through the back door into the alley, then cross over and enter Lord Harrison’s from his back entrance.

It meant that the servants sometimes looked at her oddly, but she didn’t mind. What could they say? She knew that the downstairs talked and gossiped as much as the upstairs. It wasn’t that she underestimated that. She was sure that Lord Harrison’s servants and Aunt Jane’s servants had compared notes.

But who else could they tell? Why would they bother to tell any other servants? And why would those servants then bother to go tell their employers? It was out of their way and served no purpose.

When she told Lord Harrison this, he handed her some pound notes. “Slip them a few extra coins here and there. Say it’s for setting the table so fine. Or for turning up the beds the way you like. Any excuse will do. And take care to learn their names. You can never be too careful. If they like you, they won’t betray you. And they’ll know the real reason you’re lining their pockets.”

And so her lessons were to begin.

She waited until late morning when everyone else was out calling. She had a leisurely breakfast with Aunt Jane to start. They discussed society and Aunt Jane started quizzing her on who was who. Then they read the paper together.

Then Aunt Jane set out to call upon her acquaintances. She would be gone for at least three hours. It was perfect timing.

Regina slipped down the alley to Lord Harrison’s house. She instructed the housekeeper to tell anyone who visited that she was out making calls as well. That should keep anyone who visited off her trail. Although she doubted anyone would want to call and see her.

When she knocked at the back door, Lady Cora opened it immediately. “In you go.”

Regina slipped in past her and let her lead her up the library, where Lord Harrison was waiting.

“I have some letters to write,” Lady Cora said, and sat down at the desk in the corner.

Lord Harrison gave her a long-suffering look and then turned back to Regina. “Normally we’ll play cards at the table in the side parlor. But first I want to start you on this.”

He then handed her a book.

Regina stared at it. Of all things—a book?

Lord Harrison laughed. He looked much more relaxed than when she’d seen him last. His hair was loose and curled around his face. It made him look younger. Boyish, almost.

His posture was a bit more relaxed as well. And while he wore a shirt and waistcoat done up properly, he had no coat to go with it.

Regina thought she liked this look. He seemed so much looser now. Like he’d been holding himself stiff and now he could let go. It suited him much better.

“The look on your face,” he said. “It’s absolutely precious.”

Regina bristled at that. “I am not precious.”

“I hate to tell you this, but you really are.” Lord Harrington grinned at her. “I think it’s your fairy face.”

“My what?”

He plopped down onto the sofa. Regina had never seen a man behave in such a relaxed manner. It was quite novel. “You have a fairy face. When I was a child, my mother would read fairy tales to me. I always pictured fairies as looking like you. You have such a delicate pixie face. Plus your freckles.”

Regina wanted to bristle more, but he sounded so genuine. It actually sounded like a compliment coming from him. “When I first saw you on the porch I thought you looked like a fairy king.”

Over in the corner, Lady Cora made an indelicate sound but didn’t look up from her letters.

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment,” Lord Harrison said. “And I shall take our similar observations about one another as a sign that we shall make a good mentor and protégé.”

And a good brother and sister-in-law, Regina thought. She couldn’t forget about that. She had tried to put it out of her mind, but it was always present. She had all but sold her sister for this.

Would Bridget ever forgive her? Or would she hate her if she learned the truth?

“Why did you think I was a fairy king?”

Regina was wrenched out of her thoughts and she blinked. “What?”

“Why did you think I was a fairy king?” Lord Harrison had a mischievous smile on. It rather suited him. “I’m quite curious.”

“Something about the lighting,” Regina confessed. “And the idea of making a deal with the fairy king. You have to be careful or he’ll trick you.”

“I have no intentions of tricking you,” Lord Harrison said. “That I can promise. But you don’t look rather like those heroines who went up against the king. You look more like a fairy attendant. Perhaps you can be Puck then.”

“I’m Puck and you’re Oberon?” She replied, getting into the spirit of it. “We are intending to trick at least one mortal.”

“And we’ll be masked. One night of the year when we can roam free. Sounds similar to Shakespeare to me.”

Regina found herself smiling back at him. It was just so conspiratorial. Excitement bubbled up in her gut. They were going to do this. They were really going to do this.

And it might even be fun.

“I want you to start with these books, Puck,” Lord Harrison said, “Because they’re about how to play cards.”

He tapped the cover of the books. “You said you enjoyed reading so I thought these might help you grasp the theories.”

“There are theories to cards?”

“Just like there are theories to stitching.”

Regina thought about that. “So just as how there are patterns in stitching there are patterns in cards.”

“Exactly.” Lord Harrison nodded, pleased. “I think if you had the theory in mind it’ll be easier for you to pick it up. Since you’re such a bookworm. Do you think you can get through all those books in an afternoon?”

Regina started. She looked through them for a moment. “I think so.”

“Do your best. I’m having some friends over to play a game next evening.”

Regina’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t be seen with Lord Harrison! And playing cards! People would—

Lord Harrison held up a hand. “Now, don’t worry. Nobody there will know you. I was very careful in who I chose. I want you to just observe tonight. See how each person plays. There’s a lot that you can learn just by watching.”

“And who am I supposed to be?”

“I’ll pass you off as my cousin from my mother’s side. None of them will be the wiser.”

“As you say, Lord Oberon.” Regina tried winking at him.

Lord Harrison burst into laughter. “Look at you! You’re a proper minx!”

“I do my best,” Regina replied archly.

“Miss Regina, you are a wonder,” Lord Harrison marveled. “I never would have expected this from you. If you can surprise me like this I think we’ll make a card player out of you yet.”

Regina smiled. This might be easier than she thought.