Chapter Fourteen

When Viscount Strangeways left her, Virginia did not reenter the sitting room but went straight up to her bedroom to think about what had happened.

Did Lord Strangeways have a tendre for her? Virginia felt overwhelmed. Knowing she too felt an attraction, she positively had to address her feelings. And there was no doubt that those feelings were warm.

She loved his gallantry, his kindness toward her. Plus she was tremendously attracted to him.

Dare I think on it more deeply?

What if she was a spy? Had she done anything yet that would be culpable? She had no idea. If so, his knowledge of the existence of Mr. Sagethorn did not bode well. In fact, his mention of the man’s name had thrown her. Just remembering it put her in a quake. If she was discovered, even the kindness of Viscount Strangeways couldn’t save her from the gallows.

At that moment, Sarah tapped on her door. “Lady Clarice Manton and Miss Braithwaite are below for you, miss.”

She knew Miss Braithwaite—the tiny little woman who had taken such care of her at Southbrooke. She had been in one of the balloons. But who was Lady Clarice? The name did seem a little familiar somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

When she arrived downstairs, her eyes were immediately drawn to the small black dog in Miss Braithwaite’s arms. Seeing her, he wiggled with all manner of contortions, begging for release.

“Mr. Hale!” she exclaimed. Her memory of her rescue of the little dog as he was being beaten returned just as naturally as though it had never left. She moved swiftly across the room, took the wiggling dog, and held him away from her so she could look in his eyes. They were sparkling and happy, no longer dull with pain. “He looks well, Miss Braithwaite!”

“You have recovered your memory!” exclaimed the little lady.

Virginia looked at her in surprise. “I do remember Mr. Hale. There was a horrible boy beating him in front of Hatchard’s. Lord Strangeways helped me. He said we should take him straight to you.” She turned to the other lady. “And you are Lady Clarice! I remember you now. You have a Siamese cat. And Miss Braithwaite, you own a tortoise—a huge one named Henry Five.”

She laughed, and both ladies smiled at her. Relief coursed through her like a river. Twirling about the room with the dog in her arms, she said, “Mr. Hale! You are my good angel.”

“What else do you remember?” asked Miss Braithwaite.

“The balloon flight,” she said. “It was the most wonderful sensation, flying. But how did I end on the ground?”

“A storm caught us,” said Miss Braithwaite. “Lord Freddie is not the steadiest of captains. From what I understand, he was determined to ride it out. Then lightning struck nearby, and he realized the hydrogen might explode, so he started to descend. The wind upended the gondola, which was a good thing, because the balloon was nowhere near you after you fell into the tree and the lightning struck it.”

“Oh, goodness, what an adventure,” Virginia exclaimed.

“Lord Freddie should be strung up by his thumbs,” said Lady Clarice.

Talk of hanging brought Mr. Sagethorn to Virginia’s mind. Try as she might, she could not elicit any memories of him prior to his appearance in Southbrooke Hall.

Oh, well. Perhaps this recovery is a piecemeal business.

Speaking of Lord Freddie, she said, “I think he has already suffered a set-down at Lord Strangeways’s hand.”

Lady Clarice’s eyes lit up. “I do believe there is some interest there, my dear. Sukey said he was terribly sweet to you and very concerned when you were at Southbrooke. Hopefully you can cure him of that dreadful Pamela Longhurst. She has a beautiful singing voice, but I am afraid she is quite taken with herself.”

Lord Strangeways had a love interest? Virginia’s heart quailed. Her memories weren’t perfect yet, but she did remember that she had felt romantic stirrings between them even before her accident. In fact, they had begun at her first and only ball.

Who was Pamela Longhurst? A vague memory stirred of one of the women she had met in the park.

“Now, Clarice,” said Miss Braithwaite. “You know very well the gel is engaged to Lord Sutton.”

“That’s all very well, but I saw her pleading with him about something at the balloon ascension,” said Lady Clarice, her tone sharp. “Rumor has it that she is still in love with our Tony.”

“The vixen! She already broke his heart once,” said her companion. “She always wants what she cannot have. She’s been that way since she was in pinafores.”

Virginia listened to this exchange, and the feeling cooled that had warmed her heart these past few days. In fact, she felt bereft. “I think I met her in the park,” she said.

Virginia had never realized how much Lord Strangeways had eased her loneliness and made England a bearable place. How could she have built so much on so little? Even his statement of admiration could be merely a flirtatious remark.

“I won’t be able to keep Mr. Hale, I’m afraid,” she said, feeling the need to change the subject. “I am sure that my aunt doesn’t favor dogs of mixed breed—or any dog, for that matter. Will it be a problem for him to stay at your house?”

“Delighted to have the fellow,” said Miss Braithwaite in bracing tones. “Now, we must talk about our next benefit. It is to be a musicale. We have great success with our musicales. Particularly if we can get Miss Longhurst to sing.”

“The same Miss Longhurst you say has a penchant for Lord Strangeways?”

“I did say she has a lovely voice,” said Lady Clarice.

Curiosity overcame the knot that had formed in Virginia’s stomach. “When is it to be?” she asked. If Lord Strangeways’s love interest was to be there, she certainly wanted to be there as well.

“Tonight. Are you enough recovered from your accident that you could sit at the donations table in the back of the ballroom during the interval? Our usual volunteer has canceled, and it would be a good way for you to become acquainted with people.”

“I should love to. Perhaps you should extend an invitation to my aunt and Mr. Tisdale. I will need an escort, and that way I will be certain to be there.”

“Of course, my dear,” said Lady Clarice. “Now about the matter of dress . . .”

“I shall have an evening gown ready this afternoon,” Virginia assured them. She rang the bell for Stevens and asked him to tell her aunt and Mr. Tisdale that they had callers.

* * *

Though she liked the Blossom House ladies very much, she was relieved when they left so that she could consider the memories that had returned. Virginia realized with surprise that she had been in England less than a week before she had fallen out of the balloon. As Lord Strangeways had told her, she actually knew him very little.

The greatest and most pleasant recollection was that she was not now, nor had she ever been, a spy. Bitter against England because of the destruction of her home, which she blamed on them, yes, indeed. But she had never been approached by anyone with the intent of recruiting her to spy—that is, until the horrid Mr. Sagethorn had imposed on her lost memory at Southbrooke. She had a vague, unformed recollection of having seen him before under other circumstances, but she did not remember ever having conversed with him. Horrid man.

This was a very lowering thought. It was only slightly mitigated by the arrival of her evening gown. Of deep forest-green peau de sois, it fit beautifully, flattering her slight figure, her skin, and her eyes.

Certainly her appearance pleased the Honorable George—as she now remembered referring to him—that evening. He took a very proprietary interest in her as he escorted both her and Aunt Lydia to the festivities at Blossom House.

“Are you certain you are well enough to endure an evening out?” he asked as they traveled the short distance by carriage.

“I am perfectly well, thank you,” she said. “I am looking forward to hearing Miss Longhurst sing. Lady Clarice and Miss Braithwaite credit her with being a great attraction.”

As soon as they had gone through the informal receiving line and greeted their hostesses, Lady Wellingham and her cousin, the Duchess of Ruisdell, came up to their party. Lady Wellingham’s fair loveliness was complimented by deep-pink silk, while the duchess’s midnight-blue eyes were highlighted by a matching satin gown.

“My dear Miss Livingstone, you are stunning!” said the duchess.

“Thank you. This is the first of the evening gowns I ordered,” Virginia said. “Miss Saunders kindly accompanied me to Madame Bellon on Bond Street.”

Lady Wellingham said, “You have excellent taste. So many women overdo the flounces and furbelows. Your gown is elegant.”

“You are so kind. Do your husbands accompany you tonight?”

“They are talking horses with Lord Strangeways, of course.”

Virginia looked about her and saw Mr. Tisdale standing just outside their grouping. “You have already met my aunt’s nephew, Duchess,” she said, stepping back and admitting the man to the circle. “Lady Wellingham, may I present the Honorable George Tisdale? Mr. Tisdale, please meet my new friend Lady Wellingham.”

The ladies exchanged pleasantries with the Honorable George, and they were soon joined by the duke and Viscounts Wellingham and Strangeways. When there was a lull in the conversation, Virginia said, “I have a small announcement to make.”

Everyone turned to her attentively.

Virginia said, “I’ve recovered my memory, I’m happy to say.”

“Well done!” said Lord Strangeways. Others echoed his congratulations.

“Thank you all for being so patient with me.” She told them the story of how Mr. Hale had been the one to jog her recalcitrant thoughts.

“The dog has performed a singular service for which we are all grateful,” said Lord Wellingham, to Virginia’s surprise. “Our dinner party tomorrow night will now have a celebratory purpose!”

Virginia smiled, the burden of espionage having been lifted. “How very kind.”

Then it was time for the concert to start. Lord Strangeways seated himself on her right, while Mr. Tisdale took the seat to her left.

Her entire right side tingled with awareness. Once Miss Longhurst took the stage, however, her heart dropped to her middle. She was even more stunning than she’d imagined. The woman was a breath-stopping beauty—honey blonde with deep-blue eyes, radiant skin, and a full figure. And she was looking straight at Lord Strangeways where they sat in the front row.

It is also the woman from the balloon ascension at Green Park. She was all in gold velvet. She spoke to him while he was getting his balloon ready.

After a short introduction played by the accompanist, the woman began to sing, her voice smooth as honey. Virginia wanted to shrink inside herself. How could she ever have thought Lord Strangeways the least bit interested in her with her slight figure, emphatically straight brows, and uninspired dark coloring?

Indeed, his attention was rapt as he listened to Miss Longhurst perform. What had the Blossom House ladies said? She was engaged to someone else? Hadn’t they implied that he still desired her? It was evident that she desired him. She was singing right to him, her eyes imploring. Virginia didn’t understand Italian and was suddenly glad she didn’t. Understanding the words of the song would be too embarrassing.

When the interval arrived, the Honorable George and Lord Strangeways asked her simultaneously if she would like punch.

“Thank you, gentlemen, but I am expected at the donations table during this interval. Perhaps one of you could escort me? I believe it is to be in the rear of the ballroom.”

Lord Strangeways was the first to offer his arm.

“I hope you will come and make a donation,” she said to Mr. Tisdale. He frowned.

As Virginia and the viscount walked through the crowds to the rear of the room, she said with great sincerity, “What a marvelous voice Miss Longhurst has! So unique.”

He replied, “Yes. Do you sing?”

Though she didn’t feel like it, she forced a little laugh. “Not well. I am not well versed in any of the drawing-room entertainments. I have always been more interested in the out of doors.” They had reached the table. “Now. Here we are! I imagine that is my cash box there. Would you like to be my first donor?”

“I should be enchanted,” he said with a grin, seating her in the ladder-back chair behind the table. He then handed her a twenty-pound note.

“My goodness!” Virginia said. “You are generous, indeed!”

Miss Longhurst appeared at that moment and, taking the viscount’s arm, said, “Was my performance really that good?”

“You know I always enjoy your singing. Miss Longhurst, I believe you met Miss Livingstone in the park? As you can see, she is collecting the donations tonight.”

Virginia felt the lady study her ensemble. “Yes. How do you do, Miss Livingstone? I understand you lost your home to fire. I was sorry to hear it. But you have obviously been to a dressmaker since we last met. Madame Bellon?”

Virginia smiled, but the woman turned her back and led Lord Strangeways away. She realized that people were lining up to offer donations. As she smiled up at the next donor, she felt flushed with humiliation and anger at being treated with such obvious contempt. Her hands trembled as she took the generous offerings, and she attempted to give herself wholly to the task.

When the interval was at an end, Virginia found an empty chair at the back of the ballroom. It seemed that every note the beautiful contralto sang rang with triumph.

* * *

The next morning Virginia woke with a heavy heart, not made any lighter by her lack of sleep. She had collected donations again at the end of the concert and turned the money over to Lady Clarice after the last guest had departed. The Honorable George had seen her home, full of praise for Miss Longhurst and her talent. She had not seen Lord Strangeways the rest of the evening.

She tried to push away the disappointment and pain she felt.

He was never the one for me. I don’t want to be married to an Englishman, for heaven’s sake! And he is clearly smitten with Miss Longhurst and she with him, in spite of her engagement.

After dressing and breakfasting, she decided to write to her uncle in Dorset. She was happy to recall him being kind and generous. He had come to America at great expense of time and money to retrieve her at the time of her parents’ death. They had waited months at a British-controlled port on the Chesapeake until the Intrepid had docked. It was taking wounded sailors back to England, and her uncle, a former captain in His Majesty’s Navy, prevailed upon the Intrepid’s captain to carry them both, though it was forbidden to carry civilians in wartime—especially American civilians! Captain Nestleroad had once been commander under her uncle and owed him a debt for saving his life.

Now she wrote to Uncle James to tell him of her adventure in the balloon, her loss and recovery of her memory. He would be most concerned. Who knew what Aunt Lydia had written? Virginia now remembered that he had come to think of her as a daughter.

Before she had finished her task, Sarah came to tell her that Lady Wellingham had called. Putting down her quill, Virginia looked in the mirror. She looked pale and dreadful. After pinching her cheeks and biting her lips to give them some color, she went downstairs.

As she descended the stairs, Virginia reflected on how empowering it was to have at least some of her memories back. Her aunt may not welcome her as a guest, but her uncle had offered her affection. Maybe she could go down to Dorset, out of Sagethorn’s reach. She would be no good to him there.

Meanwhile, there was Lord Wellingham’s wife. Sagethorn would expect her to use the opportunity of this dinner to ransack Lord Wellingham’s library for documents. But, thanks to the return of her memory, she knew she owed the spy nothing. He may be a countryman, but he was a deceiver. Still, she was a bit troubled by the fact that he appeared familiar to her in some way. It was worrisome.

To her surprise Viscount Strangeways appeared to have arrived also. The two callers were not alone. Her aunt and the Honorable George were sitting with the guests gossiping about people she didn’t know.

“Oh, there you are, dear,” her aunt said. “You are not looking terribly well. Perhaps you shouldn’t have undertaken such an ambitious outing last night.”

Ignoring her aunt’s comments, she approached Viscountess Wellingham.

Virginia gave a little curtsy. “I am pleased to see you again, my lady.”

“And I you, Miss Livingstone.”

As she had noted before, the woman was petite and blonde with enormous violet-blue eyes. She was undoubtedly a noted beauty. Virginia felt her own excessive height, her ordinary brown hair and eyes. At least she was gowned properly.

To her annoyance, George had risen and now stood beside her, a hand placed on the small of her back. “Are you quite certain you are well enough to visit with our guests this morning?”

“Thank you, Mr. Tisdale, but I am very well indeed. It is such a relief to have my memories returning.”

She nodded to Viscount Strangeways. “How kind of you to call.”

He solemnly returned her nod.

Lady Wellingham brought her hands together and smiled at Virginia. “I am so very glad you are well. I just wanted to echo Lord Wellingham’s impromptu invitation of last night. We are holding a small dinner party tonight. We should be delighted if you and your aunt, and Mr. Tisdale, of course, would be able to attend.”

Virginia did not even consult her aunt, as was proper, but immediately announced, “I, for one, should be delighted to attend.”

Her aunt cleared her throat. “My nephew and I are engaged for later in the evening, but we should be glad to attend your dinner party.”

“Charmed,” said George with a bow.

“Lord Wellingham tells me you are from the Southern states in America,” said his wife. “I was so sorry to hear about the death of your parents. Please accept our condolences.”

Surprised, Virginia said, “Thank you very much.” It appeared that Lord Strangeways had confided quite a bit about her to Lord Wellingham, and he to his wife.

“Miss Livingstone was named for her home state of Virginia,” said George. “Unfortunately, her plantation house was burned to the ground.”

Virginia moved away from George’s possessive arm and sat next to Viscountess Wellingham, who was saying, “How perfectly dreadful! This must be a very unwelcome adjustment for you.”

She smiled at the lady. “I have made some kind friends. Friends always help.”

Penelope Wellingham smiled very sweetly in return. “I too am new to London. I find the strictures of the ton strange and difficult at times.”

“Her aunt and I do our best to guide Virginia,” said the Honorable George.

He certainly was endeavoring to establish a claim, Virginia thought with irritation.

“My sister-in-law, Arabella, thinks you and I might be friends,” the viscountess said. “I believe she is right.” She stood. “Unfortunately I have other invitations to extend now, so I must take my leave. I will see you all at eight o’clock this evening.”

Lord Strangeways remained. He strolled to the mantel and put his arm along it as though he owned the place. “How did you enjoy the concert, Miss Livingstone?”

“Very well. Miss Longhurst has an unusually fine voice, and she is very beautiful as well. She must have many admirers.”

He raised his eyebrows, managing to look impossibly handsome. “You think so? I grant you she has a fine voice, but her looks are a bit opulent for my taste. I find women with that obvious kind of beauty are rarely interesting.”

The Honorable George said, “I do so agree, my lord. Miss Livingstone, for instance, is not abundantly blessed with beauty, but she is a lovely person.”

Virginia was vexed at his comment and felt herself blush.

“Do you think so?” asked the viscount. “I disagree. I find her a rare beauty. More important, her integrity and kindness shine, qualities not often seen in the ton.”

“I am in the room,” she said, now bright red. “You speak of me like a piece of merchandise in a shop.” Standing, she said, “Excuse me, but I have a letter to write.”

“I knew you were not up to snuff,” said her aunt’s nephew.

Biting her lip to prevent a rude retort, she left the room.

* * *

A simple evening gown she had ordered was delivered in time for the dinner party. It was black velvet with a square neckline and short puffed sleeves. The skirt fell straight, but there was an overlay of black silk that parted in the front and formed a slight train in the back.

Black was a very good color for Virginia with her dark hair and eyes. On a whim she picked a gardenia from her aunt’s garden and fastened it onto a black-velvet strip that she used as a band around her neck. The whole effect was simple and elegant.

Sarah put Virginia’s hair in a high, braided coronet and curled wisps to fall around her face. On her feet were velvet slippers Virginia and Sarah had bought that very day while her aunt was having her rest.

She was somewhat annoyed when she saw that the Honorable George was also attired in black velvet.

“Just as though we planned it,” said the man when he saw her come downstairs. She wished like anything that she had another gown to change into.

In the carriage on the way to Wellingham House, Virginia thought about her memory. She was nearly positive she had regained all the missing pieces, but other than a very vague sense of recognition, she couldn’t recall having anything to do with Mr. Sagethorn. Certain that she would have remembered clearly had she been asked to spy, and furthermore agreed to it, her conscience was almost completely clear. Only a thin doubt remained that there might be something still that she did not recall.

Wellingham House was an imposing dwelling of granite stone in a Palladian design. They stepped through grand pillars beneath the portico into the foyer of the house and climbed a red-carpeted stairway to the drawing room.

Acting as hostess along with her sister-in-law, Lady Wellingham, Miss Arabella Saunders greeted Virginia at the entrance to the dark-blue-and-gold room. “Oh, Miss Livingstone, I am so very happy to see you again. We are to have such a merry party!”

“Miss Saunders, I am delighted to see you as well.” Moving aside a bit, she introduced her aunt and the Honorable George.

Virginia greeted the viscountess with a curtsy. “So lovely of you to have us here tonight,” she said. When her eyes went past her hostesses, she noticed a familiar figure behind them, supposedly awaiting introduction. She was speechless.

Commander Ernest Saunders of His Majesty’s Royal Navy stepped forward and took her hand as his sister introduced them. “Miss Livingstone, I am happy to make your acquaintance. My sister has spoken of you a great deal. I gather you are a fellow book-lover.”

Though she had come to know the man very well during their journey across the Atlantic on the ship he commanded, the first officer clearly had chosen not to reveal the fact. Virginia and her uncle had sworn never to speak of it rather than embroil the ship’s captain in the potentially questionable act of transporting an American lady and his former officer, Lord Ogletree, during wartime. Apparently the charade was to be maintained in this London drawing room as well.

“I am pleased to meet you. May I present my aunt Ogletree and her nephew, the Honorable George Tisdale? Aunt, Mr. Tisdale, this is Lord Wellingham’s brother, Commander Saunders.”

“Charmed,” said the commander, bowing over her aunt’s hand and then shaking Mr. Tisdale’s. Like his brother, he was blond, and his deep suntan accented the light blue of his eyes. In his dress uniform, he was a very handsome sight.

As on shipboard, he treated Virginia with great formality, which she attributed to his dislike of Americans, particularly an American who was on his ship. She couldn’t resist giving him a saucy smile. He blinked, startled.

Moving on inside the room, she was happy to see the Duke and Duchess of Ruisdell as well as Lord Strangeways. She had forgiven him for his comment about her “beauty,” as it was a compliment after all. The duchess came forward.

“My dear! Lord Strangeways tells us you have recovered your memory! That is excellent. I am happy to hear it.”

“It occurs to me that I read your novel! I enjoyed The Curious Affair at Staley-in-the-Wold very much.”

“I am delighted that you liked it. Now, the day after tomorrow is my literary luncheon. I expect you to be there. Your aunt is invited as well. It is at one o’clock at Ruisdell House in Grosvenor Square.”

Virginia asked, “Is there any particular book we are to discuss?”

“Oh, yes! Pride and Prejudice. Have you read it?”

“I believe I made a start before my accident. I will have it finished by then, I promise.”

Lord Strangeways made his way to her side, his eyes caressing her. “The gown becomes you well,” he said.

“Thank you, your lordship. I have your mother to thank for sending me to her dressmaker. Is she here tonight? I don’t see her.”

“She is not feeling quite the thing. Too many late nights she is not used to. She is only just out of mourning. She did bid me to tell you she was sorry to miss seeing you.”

At that moment the Honorable George approached. “May I bring you a glass of Madeira?” he asked.

“Thank you, but no,” she said. She was not a lover of sherry. Virginia also did not like her aunt’s nephew hovering over her as though he had a perfect right to be there.

When the dinner gong went, the duke and duchess led the company into the dining room. Virginia was happy when Viscount Strangeways offered his arm. Putting his hand over hers as it lay in the crook on his elbow, he indulged in a wink. She knew it was outrageous of her to do so, but she winked back. He laughed.

The commander diverted them with tales of the sea. Significantly absent were any stories related to the war in America. Instead he spoke of the Galapagos Islands, South America, and Africa. Virginia found herself vastly entertained. Arabella kept peppering her brother with questions, so the conversation took up most of the meal.

“Are there wild Indians where you live, Miss Livingstone?” asked Arabella. “Are they very fierce?”

“Hundreds of years ago, maybe,” Virginia said with a smile. “But they no longer live in my part of Virginia. However, long ago, there was a town called Roanoke, Virginia, which disappeared completely. No one has ever been able to find a clue to what happened to it. Indians have been suspected.”

“Now there are just Englishmen persecuting you,” said Beau Wellingham with a wry grin. “Far more civilized.”

She did not reply to this comment, instead putting her head down as she attempted to dissect the chicken breast on her plate. Aware of Commander Saunders’s and his older brother’s eyes on her, she felt she needed to defend herself for being an American but refrained.

Very glad when the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port, she suppressed a sigh of relief. Arabella was beside her in a moment. “I do so like your evening dress,” she said. “It goes beautifully with your coloring. I do wish I were dark, but fair coloring runs in our family.”

“I think you are very fortunate,” Virginia said. “Blondes seem to be the fashion in London.”

“But I do not like being like everyone else,” said Arabella with a becoming pout. “How I should like it if I had red hair!”

Her sister-in-law, Lady Wellingham, laughed. “You know my desire to see India. Perhaps we should run off and see how they like blondes there!”

“My brother would never let you out of his sight!” proclaimed the girl.

The duchess was sharing the latest exploits of the little marquess with all of them when the men rejoined the party. Over her pique, Virginia acknowledged to herself the hope that Lord Strangeways would sit beside her on the sofa, but he started up a game of whist instead, asking Virginia to be his partner.

Nonessentials were the only topics discussed over the card table. She was only a fair player, and she and the viscount fell again to Lady Wellingham, who, Virginia learned, had a reputation as a cardsharp.

From time to time, she felt Lord Wellingham’s eyes on the back of her neck. It was a good thing she had decided not to spy. He seemed to be keeping a close eye on her. Mr. Sagethorn would be very disappointed that this was an opportunity wasted.

As she thought about it, she actually found it quite ludicrous to expect that Lord Wellingham would have brought war plans home from the Foreign Office. Mr. Sagethorn must be desperate to tie her to this whole business.

After cards, the tea tray was brought in. She found herself and her teacup maneuvered into a corner of the room by Commander Saunders.

“Thank you very much for not giving the show away, Miss Livingstone,” he said. “My captain could come under reprimand for carrying an American to Britain. Indeed, I believe my own brother thinks you have been brought here to spy on us! Can you imagine?”

Virginia’s heart jumped into her throat. She was right. Beau Wellingham did think her a danger.

Now his brother was standing close enough to her to make her uncomfortable. She encountered the stares of the Honorable George and caught frequent glances from Lord Strangeways.

To the commander, she said, “I know him to be curious about how I came to be here in the middle of the war. Could you possibly tell him, and I mean only him, that you brought us here as a favor to my uncle?”

“I shall, if you wish. I know I can depend on his discretion. My sister says you have lost your memory?”

“For a time. I foolishly thought to go up in a balloon, and there was an accident. I have only recently recovered most of my memories. I do not remember the accident itself, however.”

“I must say, you are a very adventurous young woman!” The commander’s tanned face creased in a large smile. “I don’t think you would stick at spying if you set your mind to it.”

Virginia bristled. “Not only do I count the people here as kind friends, but I am also fond of my neck.”

At that moment the Honorable George materialized at her elbow. He looked at her stern face and then back at the commander.

“I say, have you been upsetting Miss Livingstone?”

“Just a little chat between friends. I was having her on, and she knows it. I expect she is only a very little bit peeved with me.”

Her aunt’s nephew looked even shorter next to the brawny commander.

“I am very much able to handle myself, Mr. Tisdale,” she said. “Now, if both of you will excuse me, I must speak with the duchess. I believe she is preparing to leave.”

Virginia assured the lady of her intention of coming to the literary luncheon.

“I shall look forward to seeing you, then,” said the duchess, her midnight-blue eyes sparkling. “We shall have a grand time.”

Now that the duchess was leaving, her aunt seemingly had no reason to stay. “Come, Virginia, George. We must be going. Thank you for the lovely evening, Lady Wellingham.”

Viscount Strangeways whispered in Virginia’s ear, “A walk in the park in the morning?”

Since her aunt was watching, she held back her smile. “Of course.”