More adept, it turned out, than her brother. Luke only stood by, listening to his mother chastise him, as Miss Courtenay threw down a teacup and ran out of the room.

And my young charge and I were soon far too discomfited not to follow.

“There is a beautiful view from the porch at this hour,” murmured Lillian, “Might we go to see it?”

The little proposal was taxing for her, and I took special care to follow her out to the porch as quickly as I could politely manage. Shy though she was, she did not let the awkwardness of the situation prevent her from expressing her kindness.

“I am so glad that we are sisters,” she told me, and I smiled as I reflected that her grace under fire would serve her well in London society.

“Well, your brother needed to be married to inherit,” I told her, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. “And I needed to marry for protection.”

She gave a half smile as we watched the sun continue to rise over the hills, the long shadows on the dew-covered lawn changing every moment. Though we were still in spring, I felt convinced that the heat of summer would soon be upon us.

And I knew not how I was going to bravely face the season. “I am sorry that we did not tell you before,” I told her. “And I am afraid that I have deprived you of a governess.”

Her face was so long that I very nearly laughed. “Of course,” she said. “As my brother’s wife, you will have too many duties to continue teaching me.”

I shook my head. “But of course not! I would love to continue. I only meant that we might need to leave Woodshire for a time.”

“Could I not go with you?” she pleaded, then added, “If it would not be too much trouble, that is.”

“Of course!” I told her. “That is, if we are going anywhere. I am afraid neither of us thought very far.”

Lillian gave me a small smile. “Well, it is a surprise. But I confess that I am thankful that Miss Courtenay will be elsewhere.”

I sighed. “It is awkward for all of you, though after the things she said to me, I cannot find it in my heart to pity her. Do you think she will be confined to her room, then?”

Lillian shook her head. “Perhaps you did not hear her screaming at Maryann and Laura to pack up all of her things for her. It seems that she will be leaving as soon as her trunks are loaded.”

“Scandalous, unfortunately,” I said with a sigh.

With a wisdom beyond her years, Lillian smoothed her skirt. “May I be completely honest with you Miss Quint — Barlow? Miss Courtenay would have caused far more scandal had she stayed, and become a resident of this neighborhood, than she could possibly cause by leaving.”

Realizing the truth of her words, I smiled as I looked out over the back garden. “That is certainly true. It seemed that she would have needed to look fairly far to find a vicar willing to help her marry into the Barlow family.”

Lillian nodded. “Did you like our vicar, then?”

Finally, I relaxed, smiling widely. “Oh, he was charming. I do not think I have ever met anyone connected with the Church of England who was so clever, so unconventional. And he was not afraid to take the groom to task, which was rather amusing.”

“You will not be afraid to take my brother to task either, surely,” said Lillian, looking at me slyly.

I burst out laughing. “Why, of course not! I shall consider it as one of my chief duties.”

Before I could continue laughing, though, I noted that Lillian had straightened up and stopped smiling herself. The cause was readily apparent when Mrs. Barlow came over, towering over both of us.

“Lillian,” she said, “Go check on your grandfather. I asked Luke to see if he was awake and to tell him of the marriage, but he’s been there too long now.”

My new sister-in-law gave a little curtsy and left us.

There was a long gap then, and I did not know how to fill it. Should I apologize for having married, for bringing a scandal on the family that was likely to last past the end of my mother-in-law’s life?

“I must acknowledge,” she said, “That you have been cleverer than I expected. Only a week since we brought you in, and you have already entrapped my son.”

“Your son,” I told her, “Said his marriage vows, freely, just as I did. He was not trapped.”

I did not look at her, but Luke’s absence spoke for him. I had been disappointed that he did not follow me immediately onto the porch with his sister, and now I was newly sad that he had gone off to check on my tormentor. All that his mother had to do was ask, and he would gladly obey.

“Married or no,” she said, “I will not have you in this house.”

I raised my eyebrows. I would have to leave, then, and I did not know whether my husband would go with me. After all, I had already served my purpose in terms of inheritance law.

“People might question the marriage itself,” I told her, not bothering to look away. “Your father-in-law is ill. How will his grandson inherit with nothing but a marriage certificate, and no wife to confirm his story?”

I could nearly see the wheels turning in the woman’s head. “My son does not have to live here to inherit,” she said. “He has always wanted to travel. At least, that has been his claim. Perhaps he could go traveling now.”

“Perhaps he could,” I said, standing up. “After all, his new wife has always wanted to see more of the countryside.”

I thought that this might well be the last word in the matter, but Lillian burst into the room. For a moment I hoped Luke would be with her, but she came alone.

And she was out of breath, which was unusual. “Mama, come quick! Higgins says that granddad is dying.”