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"Yes. My father owned a modest Northamptonshire estate called Berengers, and my mother was from a noble but far from wealthy Scottish family. They died in a boating accident in the Lake District eight years ago, when I was a pupil at a seminary for young ladies in Bath. It transpired that my father had neglected to take full account of my position in such a tragic event, and everything he owned went to a distant male cousin, who saw no reason to provide for me." Megan glanced away, for since being forced to become a companion, she had never once mentioned her one and only relative; indeed, she had done her utmost to banish him from her memory.

Evangeline sympathized, although she exulted inside because she now knew beyond all shadow of doubt that this was the Megan Mortimer she sought. "I fear that in this day and age there is a great deal of such heartlessness, Miss Mortimer. However, do go on."

"Well, that is all there is to tell, really. Because my cousin wanted nothing to do with me, I was obliged to leave the seminary and seek employment. I was only sixteen at the time, and therefore very fortunate to find the post with Lady Jane. I am sorry I have had to leave her, but I understand the awkwardness of her position."

"Which is more than I do, for she had no business supporting Ralph and Sophia. You have too generous a nature, Miss Mortimer." Evangeline hesitated. "Were your parents happy together?" she asked suddenly.

It was such an oddly personal question that Megan was startled. "I-I beg your pardon, my lady?"

Now it was Evangeline's turn to color. "Oh, no matter. Well, now, Miss Mortimer, I am seeking a companion, and everything about you meets with my approval. The post is yours if you wish." The offer was a compromise, because Evangeline could not bring herself to tell the truth. All in good time; there was no need to rush bull-headed at it…

"You-you wish to employ me?" Megan was caught off guard.

"Yes, Miss Mortimer."

Megan knew she ought to ask questions. "I, er… What duties will you require?"

"Duties?" Evangeline looked blank. "Well, what did you do for Lady Jane?"

"I read to her, I went shopping for her, I brought her shawl when she required it, and walked with her. If she wished to drive out in her carriage, I accompanied her, and-"

"Yes, yes, well, those are my requirements too." Evangeline didn't care what tasks Megan carried out, just that she came to reside at Radcliffe House. "The terms of employment will be exactly as those you enjoyed with Lady Jane, commencing now. And you may rest assured that I no longer intend to spend Christmas in Bath, but will be returning to Brighton tomorrow."

"I would very much like to accept your kind offer, indeed I would be truly grateful and deeply honored to do so, it's just…"

"Yes?"

Megan was embarrassed. "Lady Evangeline, I-I am very anxious indeed that Mr. Strickland's lies about my conduct should go no further."

Evangeline smiled understandingly. "You surely do not fear I will, er, blab I believe the word is?"

"Not exactly, it is just that…" Megan didn't quite know how to put it without causing offense, but there was no denying the fact that those of Lady Evangeline's rank usually thought little of the sensitivities of persons well below them on the social ladder.

"It's just that what, Miss Mortimer?" Evangeline prompted curiously.

"You might not think it as important as I do."

"My dear, I think it very important indeed. A woman's reputation is everything in this day and age, so not a word will pass my lips about the circumstances of your departure from Bath. I trust you are reassured?"

Megan gave her a grateful smile. "Yes. Thank you for your understanding, Lady Evangeline."

"Not at all, my dear. It is settled, then. Now, then, I do not wish you to remain in this ramshackle place a moment longer. I have taken rooms at the Angel opposite, and wish you to join me. I trust you like sea air? Brighton has a great deal of it, I fear."

"I have no experience of sea air, Lady Evangeline, but I am sure I shall like it very much indeed."

"Good. The season is in full swing there at the moment, but company will be a little thin at Radcliffe House until New Year's Eve. However, we will make the best of it. Are you interested in amateur dramatics? And by that I do not mean the hothouse vapors of which Sophia Strickland has made such a study."

Before Megan could answer, the greenery on the floor moved slightly. It was only a small movement, and most people would not have noticed, but it happened to catch Megan's eye. She looked down in horror, fearing it might be one of the rats she had observed in the backyard. But then a sprig of mistletoe somehow broke off, and floated up into the air. Megan was transfixed. "I-I'm afraid I have never had cause to follow an interest in theatricals, Lady Evangeline," she managed to stammer, watching the mistletoe's mysterious progress.

Evangeline had not observed anything. "Radcliffe House boasts a very fine private theater, and every year I present a play for my considerable circle of friends. It has been postponed until the new year on this occasion, but it will still take place, possibly for the last time, as I am about to sell the house to the Prince of Wales, who will pull it down to make room for more of his Pavilion. However, that is in the future, and as things are right now, everyone who spends Christmas beneath my roof is obliged to join in the play. You will escape an actual role because everything has already been cast, but I'm sure you will be excellent at prompting."

"Yes, Lady Evangeline." Megan's bemused gaze was still fixed upon the floating mistletoe."

"Master Witherspoon, put that down this instant!" Evangeline breathed, and the mistletoe fell abruptly to the floor.

The hairs at the nape of Megan's neck prickled uncomfortably. Was her new employer a little moonstruck? One thing was certain, if a message were to summon her to the Bishop's Palace right now, she would definitely change her mind about becoming Lady Evangeline Radcliffe's companion! But such a message wasn't likely to be forthcoming, and beggars could not be choosers; so Brighton it had to be.

Chapter 3

One day later in London, at about the time Evangeline and Megan-and Rollo, of course-were setting out from Wells for Winchester, where they would spend the night at the Crown Inn before continuing to Brighton, Sir Greville Seton and Lord Rupert Radcliffe left Greville's fine town house, and went for a stroll in the railed garden of Berkeley Square. Rain threatened from the leaden sky, and they huddled in their greatcoats and pulled their top hats low as the chill breeze shivered through the bare-branched plane trees, some of which bore the scars of the storm earlier in the week. The vanilla smell of fine confectionery floated from Gunter's in the southeast corner of the square, and a rosy-faced countryman selling holly from a donkey cart was calling at the elegant Mayfair houses, many of which were already closed for the holiday; it was very different from the bustle and noise of the marketplace in Wells.

Greville paused by the equestrian statue of King George III in the middle of the garden. "I don't know about you, Rupert, but I'm almost beginning to regret spending Christmas in town."

"So am I, but it can't be helped." Rupert raised his ivory-handled cane to prod His Majesty's horse, wishing the creature would bolt and provide at least some fleeting diversion. His beautifully tailored fawn greatcoat was worn over a wine-red coat and gray breeches, and there were golden tassels on his highly polished Hessian boots. He had fair hair and green eyes, and an aquiline nose. There was usually an amiable smile on his face, but he had been less than cheerful since declining Chloe Holcroft. Greville drew a heavy breath. "I really thought there would be more going on here than there is, but the beau monde seems to have departed. Except Sybil Garsington and her ferocious brother." He said this last with a grimace.