“No lady?” Jane queried. When Madeline looked down at her, she opened her eyes wide. “Not even you?”

Madeline laughed and laid a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Not even me.” Looking across the heads to the steps, she added absentmindedly, “Not that I’d wish to do anything so silly as send you three away.”

Glancing back at Belinda, she saw a small swift smile cross her face.

“No.” Belinda looked down as they neared the steps. “But that’s you-we were worried about someone else. You know us, so you’re different. Other ladies might not react to us in the same way.”

Smiling fondly, Madeline lifted her other hand to Belinda’s shoulder and squeezed lightly, reassuringly. “Any lady your brother chooses will think the same. Now hush, for there he is.”

Gervase was standing at the top of the steps. He’d seen them approaching. He scanned his sisters’ features, then his eyes narrowed and fixed on Belinda’s face.

He looked rather grim as they reached him, but to Madeline’s surprise all three girls beamed delightedly at him as they went past, lured by the promise of sandwiches.

Narrow-eyed, he turned to watch them go; slipping her arm through his, she urged him in their wake. “The spinners and weavers look to have settled without drama, thank Heaven.” As they passed into the cool of the hall, she glanced back at the mass outside. “Have my brothers come in, do you know?”

“They’re already inside.”

Castle staff balancing platters of sandwiches passed them, ferrying the fare to the trestles set up to one side of the steps, sustenance for all those who had come to help and set up for tomorrow’s big day.

Turning back, Madeline found Gervase’s grim expression had eased. He laid his hand over hers on his sleeve. “Come-the committee are lunching in the dining room.”

She let him lead her in and seat her beside him. A cold collation was laid out on the sideboard; she consented to allow him to fill her plate while she listened to the latest words from each of the committee, and added her own observations.

Despite various hiccups, everything was going well. Everything looked set for a wonderful festival.

While they ate swiftly, knowing they had to return to the chaos outside soon, she thought of his sisters and their underlying fear. She was usually so consumed keeping abreast of her brothers’ lives, she rarely had emotional attention to spare for others in the district, even Gervase’s family, her closest neighbors and nearest in station.

The three girls were seated at the end of the table in earnest conversation with her brothers. Surreptitiously she glanced at Gervase. He was helping her with her brothers; he’d certainly made her more aware of Harry’s impending maturity. Perhaps, in this, given their new closeness-their liaison-she might return the favor and make sure he properly understood the basis for his sisters’ fears.

Yet once they returned to the forecourt they were surrounded by the crowd, then separated by the demands of various helpers for direction or clarification. More peddlers and merchants were arriving with their booths and tents; the afternoon winged by in organized and happily good-natured chaos.

The sun was in the west, slowly sinking behind the wall, before the cacophony started to abate. The locals who’d helped with the stalls and trestles called good-bye and drifted home; satisfied with their arrangements, the peddlers retreated to their camp outside the castle walls, while the traveling merchants ambled off to their temporary lodgings in nearby barns and stables. One by one the committee members found Gervase and took their leave. Madeline, however, stayed to the end.

He found her with Sybil on the ramparts; as he neared, he heard Sybil say, “They were convinced they risked being bundled off to live with their Great-Aunt Agatha in Yorkshire-one can understand their horror, of course.”

Coming up with both ladies, Gervase pretended he hadn’t heard, that the whipping wind had blown the words away before he’d caught them. He smiled as they swung to face him. “All, I’m surprised to be able to report, has sorted itself out.” He met Madeline’s eyes. “You were right about the peddlers and merchants and their booths, but actual fisticuffs were avoided.”

She returned his smile, holding back her whipping hair.

The wind gusted, plastering Sybil’s light gown to her frame. She shivered. “If I’m not needed any longer, I’m going inside.” She patted Madeline’s arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear.”

“Muriel and I will come as early as we can.”

Gervase grimaced. “How early is early? When does this affair start?”

Madeline grinned. “Officially, as you must remember, you and Mr. Maple open the festival at ten, but people start arriving from seven o’clock.”

Offering his arm, he groaned. “And I suppose I’ll need to be visible from then, to keep order by my mere presence?”

She chuckled, took his arm; they started strolling along the rampart. “It would help, but from eight o’clock, perhaps. Most of the earlier souls will be stall keepers or those wanting to lay out displays. The idly interested won’t appear until after they’ve breakfasted. However, you will need to have your men on the gates from first light. Just to be certain.”

He nodded. “I’ve already got that arranged.”

They walked on, enjoying the freshening wind that blew in their faces, looking out over the sea, at the long breakers rolling in to crash in froth and foam on the shore below.

“Your sisters spoke to me,” she eventually said. She glanced at him, trying to read his face; defeated, she grimaced and looked ahead. “Sybil said you know what was behind their strange behavior. I must admit, although you’d mentioned it before, I hadn’t really thought how they might extrapolate from Lady Hardesty’s behavior, how very threatened they would feel.”

She glanced at him again. “They asked me if such a thing-a newly married lady sending her sisters-in-law away-was normal. I assured them it wasn’t, but…” Pausing, she drew breath. “Regardless of what you might think, their fear is a reasonable one. It’s something I often forget, that many ladies are not as in charge of their own destinies as I always have been.”

His lips twisted; he caught her eye. “The truth is-and I admit I haven’t been in any great rush to assure them of this-they’ll have as much say in their lives as you’ve had in yours. For obvious reasons at present that’s not a wise point to stress, however…you really don’t need to worry about them.”

She smiled and faced forward. “I know-I did tell them you’d never allow them to be sent away like the Hardesty girls. Still, it’ll be in their minds until you choose your countess and they can convince themselves they’ve no cause for worry.”

When he didn’t say anything, she looked at him. “I have known them all their lives, and while I haven’t spent much time with them to date, that will change when Belinda and then Annabel make their come-outs. I’m quite fond of them, you know.”

He smiled, entirely genuinely; lifting her hand from his sleeve, he kissed her fingers. “They’re lucky to have your friendship, and your support, especially over their come-outs.”

She blinked. He was perfectly aware that wasn’t what she’d meant. A moment passed, then she shrugged lightly. “I’ll be happy to assist in any way I can, but of course their primary sponsor will be your countess.”

He fought to keep all intentness from his smile. “Indeed.”

They’d reached the far end of the ramparts; as they went down the steps to the forecourt, she said, “I must find my brothers and head home.”

“I saw them over by the horseshoe area.” He led her in that direction.

They found the boys engaged in an impromptu game, trialing the layout with the castle stablelads. Edmond and Ben were ready to leave, but Harry begged off, saying there was something he’d meant to check but had only just remembered. “I’ll follow once I’ve learned the answer.”

Madeline looked at Harry-Gervase could see the question blazoned in her mind-but then she caught his eye, then inclined her head to Harry. “Very well. But don’t stay too late.”

She, Edmond and Ben saddled up; Gervase waved them off, then headed for the castle, leaving Harry helping the stablelads to gather the horseshoes and level the earth around the peg.

Climbing the steps, he wondered what Harry needed to check; on the porch, he glanced back-and saw his sisters, a colorful trio, hurrying, chattering, toward the castle. He turned and walked into the front hall before they saw him. He waited in the shadows inside the door until, their feet pattering, their voices light, they rushed in.

“You three.” His quiet words brought them up short, had them swinging his way. He caught the fleeting guilt before their expressions hardened and, as one, they tilted their chins at him.

“Yes?” Belinda inquired.

He fought to subdue a grin. “A word, if you please, before you rush off to change.”

Belinda frowned; she’d been about to use changing for dinner as an excuse. He gestured to the drawing room, currently empty. With a light shrug, she surrendered and led the way.

Annabel and Jane followed her. Strolling in behind them, he wasn’t surprised when they halted and faced him as he shut the door.

“What is it?” Belinda asked.

He met her gaze, then Annabel’s, and lastly Jane’s. “While I appreciate your sentiments and would hope to have your support should I require it, I would infinitely prefer that you do not try to use your undoubted wiles on Madeline.”

As one, they frowned at him.

“Why not?” Annabel asked. “We did perfectly well this afternoon.”

Belinda nodded. “Jane was particularly good.”

Jane smiled beatifically. “She wants to take care of me now.”

He was suddenly unsure just what they had done. Let alone achieved. “Just what did you say?”

“It wasn’t what we said,” Belinda informed him, “but how we said it. Madeline now knows the threat we face should you marry some lady who doesn’t take to us, and she’s wise enough to know that our belief in that threat isn’t totally without foundation.”

“Not just a figment of our imaginations,” Annabel put in.

“So, of course, being the sort of person she is, and acting in her usual capacity as de facto protector of the weak in this neighborhood, she now feels protective of us.” Belinda beamed at him. “Which is precisely how we want her to feel, and if you have any nous at all you’ll see that that’s to your advantage.”

Once again he was getting that feeling of slowly sliding out of his depth. He had a nasty suspicion that with his half sisters, he was going to be feeling that increasingly. He took a moment to regroup, then said, “I agree that today you succeeded in your aim without causing any problem, but what concerns me is…” How to put it? “If you press too hard and open her eyes too early, you’re liable to scupper my efforts. For various reasons, I have to bring her around to the notion of marriage, convince her of the benefits before I even hint at such a thing. If you jerk her to awareness too soon, then my row is going to be much harder to hoe, and-if you’ll recall-Madeline marrying me is the outcome we all desire, you three included.”

“Well, of course,” Belinda said.

“Indeed,” Annabel stated.

Jane just nodded emphatically.

He searched their bright eyes. “So you won’t make any further attempts to manipulate Madeline or tamper with her emotions?”

Belinda flashed him a brilliant smile. “Don’t worry. We won’t do anything that might make it harder for you to win her hand.”

The other two smiled and nodded.

Gervase studied their expressions, and knew that was the best he was going to do. “Very well.”

Still smiling, they bustled to the door.

“Just remember,” he reiterated as they reached it. “No more manipulating Madeline.”

They each cast him a smiling, sisterly glance as they went out, leaving him anything but reassured.


He returned to the forecourt to find Harry waiting to speak with him.

“If you have a moment, there’s, ah…something I’d like to discuss.”

“Of course.” Gervase waved to the ramparts and they headed that way.

Reaching the steps, they went up, and strolled along, faces to the wind, much as he had earlier with Madeline. Harry remained silent, clearly nervous. More used to interrogating than waiting for confidences, Gervase was wondering if there was something he should say to ease the lad’s way when Harry slowed, halted, and turned to look out to sea.

Halting a pace away, Gervase studied his profile, then looked out over the waves, too.

“It’s…about Madeline.” Harry drew in a tight breath and rushed on, “You see, we’ve-Edmond, Ben and me-well, we’ve noticed you seem quite taken with her and we wondered…well, she’s our sister and there’s no one else who might ask, so as I’m her brother…” Harry hauled in a huge breath and swung to face him. “We thought I should ask-”