Before the door closed behind Miss Wickersham, Rosie and Daisy entered and joined Cynny at the window.

Cynny was grateful for the distraction as her thoughts had gone immediately to the pocket watch she had pinched from Lord Grayson a few days earlier. Had he realized where it had gone missing and come here to retrieve it—and have her arrested and carried off to prison? A shiver of terror ran up her spine. Her eyes darted about the room, her mind whirling with escape plans.

“Is that not the gentleman you were speaking with in the garden last week?” Rosie asked. “He is certainly handsome. Why do you suppose he has returned?”

“You would not even tell us his name or what you spoke about,” Daisy said, pushing her way in front of the other two to get a better look. “Oh my. He is an attractive man. Do you suppose he has come to call upon you, Cynny?”

“Of course, not,” Cynny said, though her heart fluttered at the thought. “He knows I am to be wed. In fact, I told him the exact date when we spoke. He is simply a busybody and I have no idea why he would be here at Talcott House so soon. He must have business with Miss Wickersham. He had no appointment the last time he stopped here, clearly he is boorish and rude and cares not for the time or convenience of others.”

Daisy and Rosie turned to stare at Cynny. “That is rather unkind,” Rosie said.

“You never say mean things,” Daisy added.

“Well, he simply got on my bad side, I suppose.” Cynny had no response for her uncharacteristic pique. Something about Lord Grayson brought out unexpected feelings in her.

“Who is that man?” Daisy pointed out the window and the others looked as well.

“He looks very serious.”

“Is that a pistol in his hand?”

Oh mercy. Cynny’s knees wobbled, though she managed to make her way to her bed and shakily sat upon it. The constable. Lord Grayson had brought the constable along. She would be arrested and taken to prison. She would never become a bride, or a lady, or anything other than a miserable criminal who spent the rest of her days at hard labor.

Ironic, was it not? She had spent her early years as a criminal and despite all of Miss Wickersham’s efforts, she would end her days paying for her crimes.

She was the most loathsome, ungrateful person on the face of the earth. And soon, everyone would know the truth about her.

Daisy and Rosie continued to stare out the window. “Oh, I believe the man with the pistol might be more handsome than the other man. Honestly, Cynny will you not at least tell us his name?”

“Grayson,” she said, her voice shaking. “He is Lord Grayson. I have no idea who the other man is.” She could not force herself to speak her deepest belief and fear, that the man with the pistol was there to take her into custody.

“They are inside now,” Daisy said, heading for the door to the hallway. “I am going to find out what is happening. What an exciting day.”

“Cynny, are you unwell?” Rosie clasped Cynny’s hand. “You are positively clammy. Shall I get Nurse Lister?”

“She is indisposed,” Cynny replied. Besides, there was nothing in Nurse Lister’s arsenal of remedies that would heal what ailed Cynny. A dark cloud of dread fell over her.

Rosie went to a pitcher on a table and brought Cynny a drink of water. Cynny sipped the liquid, though it tasted like vinegar on her lips.

“I am sure it is simply a matter of pre-wedding jitters,” Cynny said in an attempt to distract Rosie. “Would you mind giving me a few minutes alone? I should like to gather my thoughts before I become a bride.”

“Yes, of course.”

With a bit of relief Cynny watched as Rosie opened the door. As soon as she was alone, Cynny intended to make a run for it, though where she would go or what she would do, she had no idea. All she knew was that no good could come from staying at Talcott House one moment longer.

Before Rosie could make her exit, Daisy came rushing back into the room, pigtails flying, face flushed.

“Cynny, you must come. They are talking about you in Miss Wickersham’s study and the men are shouting. Lord Grayson says he will not leave the premises without you!”

Too late. There was no escape.

* * *

“Lord Grayson, I thought I made it clear to you on your last unannounced visit that Talcott House is not a continuous open door for the whims of callers, regardless of their social rank.”

Through the tiny hole in the floor of a closet above the headmistress’s study, Hyacinth saw Miss Wickersham’s eyes shoot daggers at Lord Grayson from across the room. And rightfully so, Cynny thought. He was the most arrogant, pushy man she had ever encountered. But even lying prone on the hard wooden floor, she could not help but notice the twinges in the area between her thighs. She squeezed her thighs together and pressed against the floor seeking relief. Yet again, she lamented Nurse Lister’s illness and the hands of fate which had prevented Cynny from finding out about her special treasure.

“Let me see,” Daisy said, pushing Cynny out of the way.

“Hush,” Rosie said, taking hold of Daisy’s shoulder. “This is about Cynny, not you.”

The closet was crowded with the three of them in there. Only a few of the girls at Talcott House knew about the spy hole, better to keep the secret that way, though the fact that chatterbox Daisy had not spilled the beans about it continued to amaze Hyacinth. She might have preferred to be alone while finding out about Lord Grayson’s horrid plans for her, but she took comfort in being near her two friends. Right now, they were a little too near, but it could not be helped. Even for petite girls, three in a small closet was crowded. But, the drama unfolding in Miss Wickersham’s study was too delicious for them not to share. Besides, by the time she convinced the two of them to leave her alone to learn her fate, she would have missed the entire scene as it played out.

It occurred to Cynny that after she was hauled off to jail, she would never see Rosie and Daisy again. This would be her last memory of them. Her throat tightened up and she pulled away from the peephole and gathered her two friends close in a long hug. “I am going to miss you both.” She almost wished she had never lived at Talcott House. Never got her hopes up that the future could be better. Never made friends. At least then she would not know what she missed out on in life.

Oh, what would Cammie say when she found out about Hyacinth’s arrest? Would it be in the newspaper?

“We will miss you too,” Rosie said as she pulled out of Cynny’s embrace. “But, you will write to us, just like Cammie does, will you not? And maybe Miss Wickersham will find papas for me and Daisy someday and we will be able to call on you like proper ladies do.”

Cynny had a heartbreaking vision of socializing with her dear friends after they were all married, having tea and discussing the things married ladies talked about, whatever that was.

But, for her, it was not meant to be.

Raised voices drew her attention back to the present and she resumed her post, spying on activities down below. “Keep a watch out for Garland. We cannot let her find out about this peephole.”

Cynny resumed her observation of the happenings in Miss Wickersham’s study. Her whole life depended on the outcome of the loud discussions taking place one floor below.

“Give me the weapon.” Miss Wickersham stood in front of the man with Lord Grayson, her hand out as though she was demanding contraband from one of her errant students. Cynny gaped, as best she could with one eye pressed to the floor. She had never known Miss Wickersham to back down from anyone, including the young, exuberant constable who had wanted to haul Cynny off to jail when she tried to pick Miss Wickersham’s pocket that fateful day four years ago. But a man with a gun? A seasoned man of the law?

The constable cut his eyes to Lord Grayson who gave a slight nod of consent. Even the lawman abided by Lord Grayson’s whims. He really was infuriating with his bossy ways. He was even worse than Garland!

With Lord Grayson’s assent, the lawman laid the pistol in Miss Wickersham’s palm. She promptly locked it in her desk and pocketed the key before turning her attention back to Lord Grayson.

Cynny raised her face away from the opening and thought for a moment. Without the gun, perhaps Cynny would be able to escape from Lord Grayson and his enforcer. Where would she go?

She could sell the stolen pocket watch... that would give her enough money to get on her feet, maybe travel to a faraway town and start over again. Maybe as a governess.

A glimmer of hope flickered in her chest.

She would need to get out of the closet and change her clothes. Traveling in an elaborate wedding gown would draw too much attention. She took a breath and resolved to escape while she could. Resting her hands on the floor, she made to get up from her prone position, but Daisy grabbed her around the back of the neck. “Look,” she whispered, pushing Cynny’s face into the floor.

Miss Wickersham lifted her calendar from the desk where she had just locked up a pistol. She picked up a quill and spoke to Lord Grayson, “I am available Thursday next at ten o’clock in the morning, I shall schedule an appointment for you at that time. As you can see,” she gave a pointed glance to Lord Kensington in his wedding finery, “we here at Talcott House have urgent matters to resolve to which your presence is neither invited nor required.”

Miss Wickersham moved to escort both Lord Grayson and the lawman from the room, though without returning the pistol. Cynny held her breath. If anyone could escort two uncooperative men from the premises, it was Miss Wickersham. She did not put up with shenanigans, not from Cynny or Daisy and not from high born gentlemen. To her relief, Grayson actually took a step toward the door and Cynny slowly let out the breath she was holding. Maybe...just maybe…

And then he stopped in his tracks.

“No,” he said. “I am here for Miss Heathrow and I shall not leave without her.” His stern voice sent a shiver down Cynny’s spine, but surprisingly it was not fear. The warmth in her kitty spread and pulsed and Cynny’s breath caught in her throat.

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Kensington, who was there intending to wed Hyacinth himself, asked as he stepped forward. “Have you gone mad? I am to marry the girl within the hour and I would thank you to leave the premises as Miss Wickersham has requested. Are you in the habit of causing disruption everywhere you go?”

Rosie’s elbow jabbed Cynny in the ribs. “Lord Kensington is fighting for you,” she whispered. “Is it not romantic?”

Cynny looked up to see that Rosie had found a small crack in the floor and had her face mashed against it.

It was romantic. Why did it not give Cynny the same tingly feeling as when Lord Grayson spoke?

“I believe perhaps I have gone mad,” Lord Grayson said, raking his hand through his hair. “What other explanation is there for this type of behavior? Regardless, I can think of no other and I must have the girl.” He was certainly determined and that meant Cynny would be spending what was supposed to be her wedding night in jail.

“That is all well and good, my lord, but she is to be Lady Kensington. My bride, not yours. The arrangements have been made. Money has changed hands and the vicar is on his way here. I am sure Miss Wickersham has other young ladies who will be acceptable to you, but you shall not have my bride.”

Cynny held her breath and waited for the bottom to fall out of her world.

This is where Lord Grayson would make it clear that he intended to haul her off to prison, not the chapel. She wondered how quickly Lord Kensington would vacate the property once he learned the truth.

“What makes you think that you are the proper gentleman to marry her? Have you spoken with her? Have you ever even seen her? Have you heard the lilt of her laugh or gazed into her eyes, which are the shade of a morning sky in spring? Have you spent hours upon hours, imagining in great detail how you would be a good papa to her? She must be my bride, my little girl. I will have no other,” Lord Grayson challenged Lord Kensington and Rosie gasped.

“They are going to fight over you,” she said, looking up from the scene, a grin on her face.

“Let me see,” Daisy said, making room to look in the crack Rosie was peering through.

Cynny sat straight up, eyes blinking.

Marry her? Lord Grayson wanted to marry her?

Her eyes were like the morning sky? The weight upon her shoulders fell away and joy danced in her heart. She was not going to jail. She was going to be his bride. She wanted to jump up, run down the stairs and burst into the room, throwing herself in his arms.

He was the man she wanted. Lord Grayson. Not Lord Kensington.

Suddenly her whole world made sense.

However, Lord Kensington did not share her sentiments. His raised voice floated up through the floor and she resumed her position at the spy hole.

Lord Kensington looked only slightly chagrined then jutted his chin out in a prideful manner. “It is true that I have not yet met her, but that does not mean I am not suitable as a husband and papa for her. I at least do not storm into other people's homes and disrupt social engagements, which is more than I can say for the likes of you, my lord.” Lord Kensington took a step toward Lord Grayson and Cynny’s heart skipped a beat.

Miss Wickersham stepped between the two men holding her hands up to keep them from coming to blows. “Lord Grayson,” she said, “Hyacinth has been promised to Lord Kensington and, as he states, they are to be wed in just a few moments.”

At this point, the mysterious man who was not an officer of the law but apparently a friend of Lord Grayson’s, stepped in. “But until vows have been exchanged and the marriage license has been filed, the young lady is free to marry whomever she chooses, is she not?”

Lord Grayson picked up on the point which his friend made. “And how are we to know that marrying you is the young lady's choice at all?”

Cynny thought her heart might leap out of her chest and wondered if the occupants of the room below could hear it pounding. In just a few short moments she had gone from a life in prison to learning that the man she loved...yes, she was sure it was love...cared for her as well and had rushed all the way to Talcott House to stop her wedding to Lord Kensington.

But maybe it would not come to pass after all. Miss Wickersham was to choose her papa and her decision was final. How could Cynny ever be happy married to Lord Kensington when she knew that Lord Grayson had sought her hand?

Miss Wickersham rapped upon her desk with a ruler until the men in the room quieted and looked at her. “All of the young ladies under my care are well aware that I am the one who makes the choice of spouse for them. I have seen to their care and done my utmost to decipher their personalities and make the best matches possible. All of my young ladies have had happy marriages and I have no reason to think that the union of Lord Kensington and Miss Heathrow will be anything other than blissful as well.”

Cynny’s heart sank and sad tears pricked at her eyes.

Marriage to Lord Kensington would not be blissful. Not for her. Oh, he seemed a nice enough man and would no doubt make a good husband for someone, just not her. She was meant for Lord Grayson. But, she would be a horrible ingrate if she did not follow Miss Wickersham’s decision.

A memory of the discussion she had overheard between Miss Wickersham and Nurse Lister passed through her mind. If she refused Lord Kensington, what would happen to Talcott House? And her friends? Or Miss Wickersham and Nurse Lister? Even Garland needed a home and Hyacinth could not be the one to deprive them of one.

As though he had heard her thoughts, Lord Kensington chimed in, “In addition, my payment has been deposited and I refuse to accept a refund. Therefore the obligation is upon Miss Wickersham. If she fails to keep her agreement, I shall instruct my barrister to bring suit against her.”

Cynny’s eyebrows shot up—and caught on the rough wood of the peephole. She had never seen anyone challenge Miss Wickersham and come away unscathed. The headmistress still had the ruler in her hand and Cynny would not have been surprised to see her use it on Lord Kensington.

Miss Wickersham, who had previously been on Lord Kensington’s side, turned upon him, the ruler clutched ominously in her hand. “I beg your pardon, sir, but if you are under the impression that I am in the business of selling young ladies, then you are quite mistaken. While I appreciate your kind donation to Talcott House, it was a gift, not a purchase, and I will thank you to remember that.”

Lord Grayson stepped forward. “Whatever he has donated, I shall double it.”

“What? You do not even know the amount.” Lord Kensington stared at Lord Grayson.

“Nor do I care. I must have her for my own.” He reached into his pocket and threw a wad of bills as well as a bag on the desk in front of Miss Wickersham. The bag burst open and gold coins spilled across the surface. “Now,” he demanded, “bring Miss Heathrow here at once. And tell the vicar to hurry.”

In the darkness of the closet, Cynny, Rosie and Daisy gaped at each other.

“That was the most romantic thing I have ever seen or heard of,” Daisy said. “And I have been sneaking Miss Wickersham’s novels for years.”

“You must go to him,” Rosie said, clasping her friend’s arm. “Oh, Cynny. You are going to be so happy.”

The three of them rushed to leave the closet, but a burst of sunlight filled the small space as the door flew open. The light was then blocked out again by the formidable personage of Garland, hands on hips. “What are you three doing in here? I ought to have known you would be up to trouble. And on your wedding day too. Now, show me why all of you are in here of all places.”

Garland pushed them back into the confined space and it was too much for the weakened floor of the old manor house. With a crash, the four young women broke through the floor and landed in a heap in the middle of Miss Wickersham’s study. The three younger girls were tangled in each other. Somehow, Garland had fallen on a chair.

“Oh, Miss Wickersham, my apologies. I have broken the naughty chair.”

“Naughty chair?” the three men said at once.

Hyacinth broke free from the pile and rushed to Lord Grayson but pulled up short, suddenly shy, in front of him.

Behind them the commotion continued and she had to tear her eyes away from Lord Grayson to check on her friends. Miss Wickersham had gone to Garland’s aid, but the two gentlemen had taken a keen interest in Rosie and Daisy. Lord Kensington lifted Daisy from the floor, his hands spanning her slim waist and even Hyacinth could see his hold lingered just a moment too long on her friend’s body. For once, it appeared Daisy was speechless as she stared up into Lord Kensington’s face, a pink blush covering her cheeks.

The man who had accompanied Lord Grayson had gone to Rosie’s rescue, assisting her to stand and then leaning down in a most attentive manner, gazing into her face and whispering words of comfort. Rosie was clearly shaken up by the ordeal as the man brazenly poured a glass from Miss Wickersham’s special decanter and handed it to Rosie. She took a sip and smiled up at him.

“I am curious, miss, about the naughty chair. Can you tell me more about that?” And he took Rosie by the arm and escorted her from the room. He was a bold man, indeed.

Cynny turned her attention back to the man who had just thrown down a fortune for the privilege of marrying her. Her breath came out in shallow gasps and warmth spread throughout her body, particularly between her legs in that achy way she had come to associate with Lord Grayson.

“Were you spying on us, Miss Heathrow?” His dark gaze held her in place.

“Y-yes, Lord Grayson.”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. “Well, then, we shall see to your discipline once we are married.”