Lillian didn't look like her brother. She barely reached his shoulders. She was a thin woman with a hawkish nose and dark brown hair. She had the same high cheekbones though. Lillian would have been a more attractive woman if she didn't wear such drab colors. She was dressed in a dark gray dress that made her complexion look terribly pale. If she pinched her cheeks real hard, she might achieve a bit of color.

She also needed to quit scowling. She was all but openly glaring at Mary Rose.

"What is your name, child?" she demanded. She clasped her hands together as though in prayer while she waited for her answer.

"My name is Mary Rose Clayborne."

"She doesn't call herself Lady Victoria," Lillian remarked to her brother. "I wonder why not."

Mary Rose answered her. "I've always been called Mary Rose for as long as I can remember, madam. The name Victoria has no meaning to me."

Lillian was taken aback by the young woman's directness. Her frown intensified. "You look like my brother's late wife, but I'm still not fully convinced you're his daughter. Do you wish to try to convince me, child?"

Mary Rose decided to be completely honest, no matter how rude it made her appear.

"No, madam, I don't wish to try to convince you. I do, however, fervently wish you wouldn't call me a child. I'm not, you know."

"Lord, she's impertinent, William."

Mary Rose didn't know what to say about that. Her father came to her rescue. "She was being truthful, not impertinent."

Lillian nodded. "What are your plans?" she asked.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Lillian; My daughter only just arrived. We needn't talk about plans now. Sit down and quit pestering her."

"I simply wanted to get to the root of this as soon as possible."

"The root of what, madam?" Mary Rose asked.

Lillian took a step toward her. "Finding out if you're really Victoria. Let me have my say, William, and then I'll keep quiet no matter what you do. Are you Lady Victoria?" she pressed again.

"They say that I am," Mary Rose answered. "For my father's sake, I would like it to be true. I would like to give him some peace, and I understand he's been looking for me for a long, long time."

"And for your sake?"

Mary Rose didn't understand what she was asking. She looked up at Harrison, then returned her attention to Lillian. "I would like to spend a few weeks with my father, and then I will return home."

"It's far too soon to know what your plans are," her father interjected. He patted her hand. "You might wish to stay on here with me."

She didn't want to deceive him with false hopes. "I have four brothers back home. I must go back, Father."

"We'll discuss this later," he decided. "You need time to get to know all of us first. Lillian's the most difficult member of your family, my dear. You can see you've left her speechless. I must confess I didn't believe anyone could rattle my sister, but you certainly have."

Mary Rose was thoroughly confused. "I didn't mean to rattle you, madam."

" Harrison, doesn't she understand her father's worth?" Lillian asked.

"No, she doesn't understand," he replied. "Her values are different from those of the young women in England."

"Shall we go into the drawing room?" Lord Elliott suggested. "My sister looks in need of a refreshment."

"You and Harrison go on ahead. I want to have a word in private with my niece."

"I won't have you bullying her, Lillian."

"She won't bully me, Father."

Harrison didn't want to leave his wife with Lillian either. He knew how abrasive Elliott's sister could be. He didn't want Mary Rose upset, and if there'd been time, he would have taken her aside and explained that Lillian was all bark and little bite. She had a good heart. She just made certain no one knew about it.

"My daughter and I have been apart too long. Sorry, Lillian, but I must insist we all go inside together."

"We'll be along in just a minute, Father," Mary Rose said. "I also wish to have a private word with my aunt."

She didn't wait to gain the men's permission. She sat down again and suggested Lillian also take a seat.

Both women waited until they were alone. "Shall I start or would you like to, Aunt Lillian?"

"I shall start first," her aunt insisted. "Age has its benefits," she added with a smile. "I would like to trust your intentions, my dear, but I find it difficult. Yes, I've heard all the proof your husband has collected, and while it should seem to be positive that you are indeed our Victoria, I still have my doubts. I can certainly understand why you would wish to be my brother's heir."

"You can? Will you tell me why you believe I would wish to be Victoria?"

"Why, the position, the wealth, the…"

She was still so surprised by the question, she could barely gather her wits.

"I could give you just as many reasons why I wouldn't wish to be your niece. Being someone else certainly complicates my life, madam. I have a family in Montana. Is it selfish of me to be homesick?"

"Do you come from a wealthy family?"

"Yes, I believe I do. I have everything I could ever want."

"Are the members of this family as wealthy as your father?"

"I'm not certain," Mary Rose answered. "It's a different way of life, and a different kind of wealth," she tried to explain. "Why don't you want me to be Victoria?"

Lillian stared at Mary Rose for a long moment and then whispered, "You have your grandmother's eyes."

"My grandmother?"

Lillian nodded. A smile softened her expression. "I never heard Agatha say an unkind word about anyone, least of all her own mother. Your grandmother was a mean old bat, but she did have pretty blue eyes. Agatha is probably rolling over in her grave because I'm talking ill about her mother, but I'm speaking only the truth. She really was difficult to be around."

Mary Rose burst into laughter. Lillian looked extremely prim, but her remarks weren't at all proper.

"I don't want to see my brother hurt again."

"I will try not to hurt him," Mary Rose promised. "I want only to get to know him and then return to my home. I would correspond with him, of course, and hopefully one day he would wish to come and see me. I would like him to meet my brothers."

Lillian didn't know what to make of her. "Don't you realize what your father could give you?"

"Yes, I know exactly what he could give me. A father's love. I will protect his heart. And I will try to love him just the way a daughter should love her father. I haven't had any practice, but I'll learn."

"My dear, you're now a married woman, and therefore you are under your husband's control. Harrison 's home is in England. Surely you realize you must stay here with him."

She didn't realize any such thing. She wasn't about to share her views with Lillian though.

"Are you married, Aunt Lillian?"

"I was. My dear Kenneth passed on five years ago. We weren't blessed with children."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Mary Rose said.

"I keep busy. I have my charity projects and of course the family requires a great deal of my time and attention. Robert has seven children. They're always getting in trouble. Barbara's a sweet woman, but she can't control her brood. They have six girls and one boy," she added with a nod. "You will meet all of them in another hour or two."

"Who are Robert and Barbara?"

"They're your uncle and aunt. William, your father, is the firstborn, then I came along, then Daniel, and finally Robert. Barbara's his wife. Do you have a more suitable dress to put on before we dine, my dear?"

Mary Rose looked down at her skirts. She didn't see any smudges or wrinkles that were overly noticeable. "Is something wrong with this dress?"

"It's hopelessly old-fashioned."

"I paid a bloody fortune for the material," she argued.

Lillian let out a loud gasp. Her hand went to the base of her throat. "You mustn't talk like that, Victoria. One simply doesn't use the word 'bloody' unless one is common. We'll have to start work on improving your manners immediately. We have so much to do before you're presented to society. You mustn't forget who your father is."

She wasn't certain what her aunt was telling her, but the intense look on her face indicated it was important.

"No, I won't forget who my father is," she agreed. "Why haven't you remarried, Aunt Lillian? You're such a pretty woman. If you lived in Montana, you would have been pursued by at least ten men before your dearly departed was even in the ground."

"Good heavens, child. Don't be impertinent."

"I'm not being impertinent," Mary Rose countered. "Just honest."

Lillian reached up to make certain her bun was intact, then stood up. "You'll have to remember to keep your opinions to yourself, Victoria. You're bound to shock people if you say what's on your mind."

It suddenly occurred to Mary Rose that Lillian was accepting her as her brother's child.

"You couldn't have changed your mind so quickly, madam," she remarked.

"The proof's difficult to argue with, but I shall reserve judgment. I'm giving you the benefit of my doubts, my dear."

"Why?"

"It's rude to ask so many questions, Victoria. Come along inside. Your father and your husband have waited long enough for your company."

"I have a favor to ask of you first."

Lillian turned back to her niece. "Yes?"

"Please call me Mary Rose."

"But you aren't Mary Rose any longer, now, are you? You're Victoria. You're going to have to get used to hearing your name."

She latched on to Mary Rose's arm and pulled her along. "I understand your friend will be joining you tomorrow. What is her name?"

"Her name is Eleanor," Mary Rose explained. "I believe you'll like her, Aunt Lillian. Her manners are better than mine."

"We shall see about that," Lillian replied.

Mary Rose followed her aunt inside the salon. Neither Harrison nor her father noticed her. They were in the midst of a heated debate.

"They want you to have this money, sir. I believe you should take it," Harrison said.

He stood in front of the hearth with his back to his bride. Mary Rose walked over to her husband and stood next to his side.

"I will not take it," Lord Elliott announced for the third time. "Send it back to them, Harrison."

Harrison shook his head. Mary Rose brushed her arm against his. He immediately took hold of her hand.

"Are you talking about the money my brothers sent?" she asked.

"Yes," Harrison answered. "Your father doesn't want it back."

Lord Elliott was sitting in a wing chair adjacent to the hearth. Mary Rose turned to him.

"It would please my brothers if you would take the money back, Father."

The look on Elliott's face indicated he was going to be stubborn about it. He started to say something to her, then changed his mind and turned to his sister for assistance.

Lillian immediately hurried forward. "You shouldn't involve yourself in this discussion, Victoria. Let the men sort it all out. Shall we go upstairs and look through your clothes? I'm sure we'll be able to find something a little more suitable for you to wear tonight."

Mary Rose heard Harrison sigh. He squeezed her hand and looked down at her. "Go ahead, sweetheart. We'll talk about this later."

She'd been properly dismissed. If she'd been back home, she would have argued something fierce about being excluded from "men's talk," but she wasn't home now. She was in England. The rules weren't at all the same here, and she was suddenly feeling unsure of herself. She had promised her brothers she would try to get along with all of her relatives, and so she meekly followed her aunt out of the room. She paused at the entrance to give Harrison a good frown just to let him know what she thought about being excluded, but his reaction wasn't at all sympathetic. He actually winked at her, and that only pricked her temper all the more. She let out a sigh then and went on up the stairs. She would have to wait until later to let Harrison know how she felt.

She spent the next hour arguing with her aunt Lillian about her wardrobe. The woman seemed obsessed with clothes. Mary Rose found her behavior puzzling. She thought it was ridiculous that Lillian couldn't find anything suitable for her to wear. Why, she showed her eight perfectly lovely day dresses. Lillian looked them over, then shook her head. In a haughty tone of voice, she emphatically rejected every single one of them.