Dear Deceiver. Mary Nichols

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      She had thought there was no one there, but a slight movement by the window caught her eye and a young lady emerged, from behind the curtains. She was about seventeen, Emma judged, dressed very simply in a morning dress of spotted muslin, with a deep frill at the hem and lace about the neck. Her hair, which was fair, was worn tied back with a blue velvet ribbon with no attempt at fashionable arrangement. And yet she was lovely, mainly due to a cheerful countenance and sparkling blue eyes.

      ‘I thought I would take a look at you before you saw me,’ she said, coming forward and seating herself on one of the sofas.

      ‘Oh, and what conclusion have you come to?’ Emma asked, deducing that this was the Marquis’s sister and would be her charge if she were to be appointed.

      ‘You are not what you seem.’

      Emma gasped. Surely she had not been seen through by a schoolmiss? ‘Whatever do you mean?’

      ‘At first I thought you rather dull, a little brown sparrow, but then I saw the way you looked about you, as if summing us up, and I realised that there would be no deceiving you.’

      ‘Does anyone need to deceive me?’ Emma asked, conscious of the irony of that remark.

      ‘No, but you have already deduced that we are not as plump in the pocket as we would like. Dominic wants to set the place to rights, but it all takes time and he has not been the Marquis for long enough to bring us round…’

      ‘Should you be telling me this, Miss Besthorpe? It is a private matter, surely?’

      ‘But if you become one of the household, you must know what you are falling into.’

      ‘Your brother, the Marquis…?’

      ‘Oh, Dominic is as open and honest as the day is long. Everyone knows our circumstances, but matters are improving. Dominic has just made a huge profit on some investment or other and so I am to have a Season, after all. You do not know how relieved I am, for otherwise I would have been packed off to Aunt Agatha in Yorkshire, and that is not to be borne. She is old and so strict, I might as well be in purdah. Even Dominic does not wish that on me.’

      ‘Miss Besthorpe, I really do not think you should be divulging that.’

      ‘Oh, do call me Lucy, everyone does. If I am to have my come-out this year, I need a maid who will also be a companion and chaperon. I think we should suit very well, don’t you?’

      Emma felt as though she were being swept along on a tide, but she liked Lucy, who had a refreshing candour and was not in the least conceited. ‘Yes, but I have yet to meet the Marquis and he may not agree.’

      ‘Oh, Dominic will like you, I know. And besides, I can bring him round my little finger, if I have a mind to. I have already turned down three applicants—three old dragons breathing fire.’

      Emma found herself laughing and it was at that point Dominic entered the room.

      He stood watching them from the doorway, realising that when Miss Woodhill laughed, her whole face lit up and she came vibrantly alive. Even in her dowdy brown clothes there was something about her that made her stand out; she had a natural grace, a way of carrying herself, a quiet dignity which, to his way of thinking, reflected good breeding, and yet she seemed totally unaware of it. She had, he supposed, found out who he was and decided to take advantage of his offer of compensation, after all. He was both disappointed that she might have a mercenary streak and delighted to see her again. He took a further step into the room and Lucy, seeing him, ran to take his arm and drag him forward.

      ‘Dominic, this is…’

      He smiled. ‘Miss Woodhill, I know.’ He bowed to Emma. ‘Your servant, ma’am.’

      ‘You know?’ Lucy looked from him to Emma, who seemed to have been struck dumb. Her face was flushed and her mouth partly open as if she had been frozen in the middle of a laugh. ‘You did not tell me you knew my brother.’

      Emma was thunderstruck. Her confused thoughts ranged from how handsome the Marquis was in his blue superfine coat, buff pantaloons and polished hessians, to wondering why fate had decreed they should meet again and so soon, too. Then she remembered what Teddy had said the evening before about the gentleman being interested in her and she felt the colour flood her cheeks. Would he think that she had engineered the meeting? Oh, how dreadful if he did!

      ‘I didn’t. I don’t.’ She managed to speak at last. ‘I had no idea…’

      ‘Miss Woodhill and I encountered each other yesterday,’ Dominic said, realising that the young lady was as surprised as he was and had not come to dun him. ‘Twice.’

      ‘Twice! Then you must tell me all about it.’

      ‘There is nothing to tell,’ Emma said, pulling herself together. ‘His lordship came on board the ship on which I travelled from India and we met a second time when my brother and I were dining at the hotel. I had no idea he would be there. Nor did I know who he was until now.’ She hoped he was convinced.

      ‘Oh, but that is good, don’t you see? We are connected already.’ Lucy turned to her brother. ‘Dominic, Miss Woodhill is applying for the post of companion. Do say you will agree.’

      ‘Miss Woodhill is a little young, Lucy dear,’ he murmured. ‘I am surprised the agency sent her. I asked for a mature lady, preferably one with a little experience of guiding young ladies.’

      ‘Dragons!’ said Lucy scornfully. ‘They would be as bad as Aunt Agatha. I don’t want to be hemmed in by dos and don’ts and lectures on etiquette and what is becoming to a young lady. And you know after I turned the last one away, they said they would not send any more.’

      He smiled. ‘No, they said Miss Besthorpe was obviously spoiled and they would not wish anyone of sensibility on her. Which is not at all the same thing.’ He turned to Emma. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Woodhill, I did not mean to imply…’

      She had recovered sufficiently to smile. ‘That I was lacking in sensibility?’

      ‘Not at all. I was simply pointing out that my sister can be impossibly difficult to please.’

      ‘That’s not fair!’ Lucy cried. ‘If I had someone I liked I would be as biddable as you please. And I like Miss Woodhill.’

      Emma smiled. ‘Thank you, Miss Besthorpe, but it is of little consequence what the agency thinks of my suitability. The decision is his lordship’s.’

      ’Touché!’ He laughed in delight. Here was no terrified underling, but a girl of spirit and he liked that. Not that Society would consider her as a suitable duenna for his sister. Lucy needed a strong hand. But their present situation was highly irregular, as everyone had been pointing out, ever since their parents had died within a few weeks of each other just over a year before; he was a bachelor and it was highly improper for Lucy to continue to live with him, either in town or at their country estate, though it wasn’t so important at Cavenham House.

      Aunt Agatha had offered to take her, but Lucy had begged not to go and, as usual, Lucy had got her own way. She had not been boasting when she said she could wind him about her little finger.

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