have this kind of nonsense. What is going on between you two?"
"Oh, miss," gasped Becky, her sides heaving from chasing the two boys. She gulped air. "Edward’s gone and touched Master Bertram’s butterfly collection."
"I see. Has he harmed it?"
Bertram pouted and scuffed his feet. "He could have. And he was told never to touch it. He breaks everything."
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Boys, boys! That is enough. Wasn’t Miss Twinkleham supposed to monitor your lessons this morning?"
"She’s sick," Edward blurted. He glared at his brother. "Just because you’re older, doesn’t mean you can punish me, either. That’s for adults to say," he shouted belligerently, pushing at his brother’s arm.
"Edward, I said, that’s enough," Jane repeated.
"What is all this noise?" complained Lady Serena, coming down the stairs. She held her fingertips to her temples. "Already it is giving me a headache. How can I coax my poor Millicent to come downstairs to lie on the chaise if all this noise persists?" She waved her hands in the direction of the boys. "They belong upstairs in the schoolroom, not running about like wild animals among polite company."
Jane put her arms around the boys’ shoulders. "They are merely displaying youthful exuberance," Jane defended, drawing them closer. "They are at loose ends this morning because their nurse has taken ill."
"What concern is that of mine? Surely there are others who can care for them. Your concern should be with your guests. Really, Jane, you are not being at all practical." Lady Serena swept past them, her disgust and censure evident in every line of her body.
Jane glared at her retreating back and shook her head. She bent down to talk with the boys quietly. "This is not a good day for Nurse to be sick. Why don’t you ask Cook for a special treat, then go outside for awhile."
"Can we go up to the Folly?" asked Bertram.
"If Becky goes with you. And this time, there will be no running off alone, or climbing trees." She patted them on the shoulders and pushed them in the direction of the kitchen.
Sir Helmsdon met her as she was about to enter the breakfast parlor.
"A word with you, Miss Grantley?" he asked. "In private."
Jane raised an eyebrow but agreed, leading him into the library. Her stomach rumbled in protest. She hoped he did not hear it. Normally she never ate much in the mornings, but the previous day’s activities had robbed her of an appetite when they sat down to dinner. This morning she was inelegantly reminded of that circumstance. She took a seat in one of the chairs before the fireplace and invited him to sit opposite.
Sir Helmsdon flipped the tails of his morning coat up and sat on the edge of the seat, one leg stretched out before the other. "Miss Grantley, will you marry me?" he asked without preamble.
Jane blinked, then rallied. "We have been through this before. No, Sir Helmsdon, I will not."
He thrust out his lower lip and nodded a few times as if what she’d said was a matter to be deeply pondered. He placed a hand on his knee, elbow out, and leaned forward. "I had not thought you would—especially after I observed the state of affairs between you and Lord Royce. But a man’s hope, as it should, dies hard. I should like to remain a friend. There are few women of my acquaintance that have your understanding. Ours is, therefore, an acquaintance I cherish."
A faint blush warmed Jane’s face. What did he mean about Lord Royce? Worse, why was the mere mention of Royce’s name capable of reducing her to youthful blushes? "I would like that," she managed stiffly. "And I’m, I’m sorry I ever harbored the conviction that you were unscrupulous enough to want to kidnap me. That was unfair of me."
He shrugged, a wry little smile turning up the corners of his lips. "My circumstances are well known. They are not pretty. Others before me have employed that means. How were you to know I wouldn’t?"
Distracted, she placed her hands primly in her lap and stared off at nothing. She sighed. "As I stated yesterday, I have discovered that I too often listen to society’s tales and not to my own observations. It is a fault I am trying to remedy."
He sat back a little in his chair, a concerned look hardening his features. "Miss Grantley, it is admirable, but also foolhardy, to dismiss what one hears," he said harshly, drawing her attention back to him. "I wish you would