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Stepping across the threshold into Miss Harcourt’s temporary room, he smiled to find her in the chair by the window, the paltry sun doing its best to illuminate her gold hair and kiss away the pallor in her cheeks. The blue shawl draped around her shoulders brought out the intense sapphire hue of her eyes so brightly it was difficult to look away. Indeed, with her hair piled up in a Classical manner, she looked like a Muse come to life from marble. Or perhaps a nymph, considering the entirely earthly thoughts she inspired as her head turned and her lips curved in a smile. He could certainly picture chasing her through a sunny wood, trapping her against a spreading tree and sinking to his knees… Damnation. I must find a mistress when I return to Town.

“Miss Harcourt. I believe this time I’ve located the correct book.”

“Oh! Lord Asherton.” Did his eyes deceive or was she blushing?

He crossed the room toward her, a petitioner to her altar. “I apologize for the delay. Summersby and I were out much longer than we intended to be yesterday.”

Her gaze dropped from his face to his hand, and she giggled softly, shaking her head. “You should not have troubled yourself. But I am thankful all the same. I no longer need to wonder if Benedick will indeed kill Claudio now.” She paused, but then a softer voice added, “I certainly hope he at least maims him.”

“He has more than earned a maiming.” Tristan chuckled, taking the chair beside hers. He set the book on the small side table, already hosting an embroidery hoop displaying some half-finished quotation picked out in red and gold, and small sewing basket. “How are you feeling today? You did not speak much last night. I hope my sister’s not wearing you out.”

She sighed before twisting her upper half to face him better. “The pain is hardly so bad as my boredom. I would much rather be worn out helping your sister, I assure you. Hopefully, when Dr. Moreland returns, he shall release me from this sentence.”

“I’m certain he shall, since you have been following his strictures to the letter.”

She pouted and rested her cheek on her hand. “I should have been more careful. Had I not been so distracted, I might have reacted with more grace.”

“You could hardly have such sibylline powers as to know which stones were loose, Miss Harcourt. Just as I couldn’t have foreseen what a mess my father would leave Ashforde Hall in.” He had no idea why he brought up the house, but once the words were out, he couldn’t take them back. He made a frustrated face, more for her amusement than anything. Instead, she sat up, her expression filled with shockingly earnest concern.

“Is it truly so bad as all that?” He found himself nodding, and she looked as if he’d declared the death of a relative.

“The steward constantly writes of new problems, and I’m half of a mind to tear it down and build again. Between that and the endless mischief my younger siblings get up to…” he trailed off.

“Mischief?”

“Endless tricks and pranks. Such as driving governesses away in droves.”

“Oh, dear.” She made a sympathetic face.

“My sentiment precisely,” he chuckled. “I’d thought my little brother at least was safely ensconced at Eton, but it appears he’s found pranks there as well. So, now he’s back under the crumbling roof to incite the others, and—” He stopped abruptly. “My apologies. You are already unwell. Now isn’t the time to trouble you with talk of bothersome children.”

“Unwell? I sprained my ankle, but my humors are perfectly well. Besides, it is not a burden to listen to your concerns, my lord. You’ve been more than gracious in keeping me company through my own.” Her tone was stern, a charming stubbornness glittering in her expression. “Think of it as a favor to me. A distraction from this.” She waved toward her leg.

His lips thinned, but he nodded. “A lady’s perspective is most welcome, I admit. With Lady Summersby’s health so delicately balanced, I’ve hesitated to speak with her when usually I’d have laid the whole business before her.”

“Then I am honored to be her temporary understudy.” Miss Harcourt clasped her hands demurely on her lap. “Tell me all there is.”

Tristan cleared his throat. ‘All’ was far more than any gentlewoman ought to hear. Better to be circumspect. “You may know, our mother—mine, Lady Summersby’s, and Cecilia’s, that is—died just before Evelina became Lady Summersby?”

“I knew she was gone, but not the time.”

“Father remarried quickly.” Helped by the fact he was marrying his mistress of several years, who was married to someone else for most of that time. But he would not speak that part out loud either. “Our stepmother bore Cavendish and Elizabeth, but when my father succumbed to his illnesses early this year, she instantly removed to Italy where she has some relations, leaving the children in Ashforde, as she felt the change in climate would do them no good. Unfortunately, she failed to make any further arrangements for their care beyond what a governess and my sister Cecilia could provide, as there were the usual inconveniences of inheritance and transfers, made worse by my being in the Peninsula.”

He glanced at her for reassurance she was following the tale, and at her nod, he continued. “Cecilia is but one-and-twenty herself, far too accommodating in temperament to guide them, and I suspect no governess ever managed a firm hold on Cavendish’s behavior. I fear what parts of Ashforde are not already falling down, the children may topple into the river by their own chaotic efforts. And this is before one adds in my ward, but as she is only four, I don’t yet fear her pranks overmuch.”

Miss Harcourt’s thin, golden brows lowered as she pushed herself upright against the cushions. “To leave without ensuring their education and routines are settled seems very…” She paused, a hand covering her pink lips. “Forgive me, I fear the cordials are making me too frank. But surely your stepmother didn’t intend to be so, er, inattentive? It’s no wonder the children behave in such a way.”

“It isn’t?” He blinked at that assessment.

Miss Harcourt nodded. “If they’ve no cause to believe they are cared for, what reason should they care for anything else?” The point struck home. Morale. He hadn’t thought of applying that general concept to the children. “And your poor Cecilia, too! It was not fair that such a burden be dropped on her shoulders.”

“No, it wasn’t.” He rubbed his temple. “Her lot in life has been difficult.” She’d had nobody, forbidden from visiting Evelina and scarcely seeing any of her elder brothers. Cecilia lived in books and dreams to escape their father’s acidic cruelty and near-total isolation. “I’d hoped to make it up to her on my return and get her to London for the end of the Season. Instead, she has been stuck in Ashforde. With my business in Town and our sister’s illness, I’ve had to rely upon relatives to find an even sterner governess. Which led to interviews with two utter harpies and one half-grown miss I shouldn’t trust with a puppy.”

“But you are trying. I see that very clearly, and surely so will your sister.” Miss Harcourt’s distracting lips smiled again, and he almost wished she would stop. A smile like that was meant to be rewarded with compliments. “It may take some time, but you will find a governess, and then Cecilia will be relieved.”

A heavy sigh left him. “You are very kind, Miss Harcourt. I find inheriting has left me unsure of every choice. I fear the consequences of failure on the domestic front far worse than on the battlefield.” After all, if he failed on the field, death was a generally swift end to the concern. Mistakes here could haunt his dependents for the rest of their lives. Uneasy at the thought, Tristan studied his delicate companion anew. Somehow, the image of Miss Harcourt in the great chamber of Ashforde was painting itself firmly in his head. And then his tongue ran away with his brain. “Perhaps I might call upon your opinions on such domestic troubles, here and there, as I see about setting matters to rights? Lady Summersby is always my rock in these situations, but I do not wish to burden her while she is unwell.”

“I am at your disposal,” she said firmly. “So long as there are no loose stones, I shall endeavor to help you in every way that I can.”