"I don't," Emily said. "But I'll lay odds he is." Her lip curled. "Probably a dandy, like that awful cousin Cecil."

"All Gilbraiths are awful like cousin Cecil," piped Rosie's voice, and Elinor realized she hadn't seen the child behind her sisters.

"That will do… you're setting Rosie a shocking example. Come here, child."

Rosie appeared from behind Emily's skirts, and her mother scrutinized her appearance with a frown. "Your stockings are wrinkled, and you have jam on your smock. You really are too old to go around looking like a haystack. I don't know what Mrs. Haversham will think."

Rosie rubbed at the sticky smudge, peering through her glasses, her lip caught between her teeth. "I wasn't going to see Mrs. Haversham. Robbie promised to show me his pickled spider. He says it has ten legs, but I know it can't. Spiders only have eight."

"You can't go to the vicarage without greeting Mrs. Haversham," Emily pointed out, bending to straighten the child's stockings.

"Is Theo going with you?" Elinor adjusted the sash at Rosie's diminutive waist.

"No, she's riding the estate with Beaumont. They have to decide which fields to leave fallow for the autumn sowing."

"And do something about Squire Greenham," Clarissa added.

"Oh, yes, the Master's been complaining again about the way we maintain our coverts," Emily said. "He's bellowing that the hunt will never be able to draw the coverts if we don't maintain the rides properly. And the Belmont game-keepers aren't marking the fox earths either… and how can the huntsman stop the earths if he doesn't know where they are?"

"That is so cruel!" Rosie exclaimed, her cheeks pink, her eyes blazing behind her glasses. "It's horrid of them to stop the earths so the foxes can't get away when they're chasing them. Theo said once when she was hunting, she saw a fox running all over the covert, trying every opening to its earth and they were all blocked… and then the hounds caught it and ripped it apart. It's disgusting and it's not fair!"

Her voice quavered, and her mother and sisters knew a bout of noisy, heartfelt tears was imminent.

"It's not hunting season for another four months," Clarissa said swiftly. "And I promise that you and I will go out at dead of night before the hunt and unstop all the earths."

Lord Stoneridge might have a word or two to say on that score, Elinor reflected, since it was now his land. However, there was no point upsetting Rosie further. She said mildly, "You will be sure to be here when Lord Stoneridge calls, won't you?"

Her elder daughters glanced at her, and she saw that the same thought had crossed their minds. But they merely nodded.

"Of course, Mama. Come along, Rosie. We have to hurry, you'll have to come as you are. Robbie and the pickled spider won't notice, and I daresay Mrs. Haversham will turn a blind eye." Emily took the child's hand and hustled her out, Clarissa on their heels.

Elinor passed a hand wearily over her eyes. The next few days were going to be a trial, but once they were settled in the dower house, surely they could maintain a civilized distance from the new earl. The social engagements offered in the neighborhood couldn't possibly appeal to an out-and-outer. Whatever that might mean.

She rang the bell and when Foster appeared said, "When Lady Theo comes in, will you ask her to come to me, please?"

"Certainly, my lady." Foster bowed. "Cook is waiting."

"Send her in… oh, and, Foster, Lord Stoneridge will be calling this afternoon. I will receive him in the drawing room. Bring up a bottle of… of…"

"I believe Lady Theo would suggest the eighty-nine claret, my lady."

Elinor smiled, despite her heavy heart. "She would know, of course. Her grandfather took her round every rack in the cellar until she could lay hands on a particular bottle blindfold."

Foster's eyes grew a little misty, but he said only, "I'll bring up a bottle, ma'am." He turned to the door, then paused, coughed. "Forgive me, my lady, but I imagine Lord Stoneridge's arrival means that you and the young ladies will be removing to the dower house shortly."

"That is so, Foster."

He coughed again. "I trust your ladyship will not wish to dispense with my services."

Elinor shook her head. "Of course not, but I can't help feeling that you would do better to remain at the manor. I'm sure Lord Stoneridge will need your knowledge of the house and the staff."

"I would prefer to come with you, my lady. As would Cook and Mrs. Graves." With a bow he left the room.

Elinor sighed, tapping her fingers on the blotter. Life at the dower house would be so much pleasanter with the butler, the housekeeper, and the cook who'd served her and the old earl for two decades. But was it fair to the new owner to remove the established staff?

Her jaw tightened. The new owner was a Gilbraith. She owed him nothing, and the staff who'd been loyal to Kit and his father owed a Gilbraith no loyalty.

The cook tapped at the door, and Lady Belmont turned her attention to the day's menus, putting aside the thought that she hadn't spoken to Theo yet about Stoneridge's call.

Theo entered the house just before noon. She was ravenous, having been on horseback since seven, but it was clear to her mother and sisters as she entered the paneled dining room that she was in good humor.

"There'd better be baked eggs," she said, sniffing hungrily. "Did you have a good morning… Beaumont had a splendid suggestion for Long Meadow… he thinks we should marl it as Mr. Coke did at Holkham and plant -"

She stopped, running her eyes around the room. There was tension in every face, except Rosie's. Rosie was dissecting a chicken wing with the tip of her knife with all the care and attention of a surgeon.

"What's happened?"

"Nothing unexpected, Theo," Elinor said, helping herself to a slice of ham, her voice level. "Lord Stoneridge is calling this afternoon."

"I see." Theo lifted the lid on the dish of baked eggs and replaced it again. She sat down in her accustomed place and crumbled a piece of bread between finger and thumb, her eyes fixed, unseeing, on the rich patina of the cherrywood table. "Is he evicting us this afternoon?"

"No, of course not. We must discuss arrangements… there's much to organize."

"And a Gilbraith will, of course, be prepared to conduct these matters in a civilized fashion," Theo said acidly. "That wasn't Grandpapa's opinion."

Elinor decided this wasn't a moment for discussion. She said briskly, "I'll expect you to be here, Theo."

Theo pushed back her chair, all appetite vanished. "Would you excuse me, Mama? I promised to visit the Gardners in the village. Joe's injured hand isn't improving, and his wife's close to her time."

"I expect you to be here when Lord Stoneridge calls, Theo," Elinor repeated calmly, her eyes holding her daughter's.

"I understand," Theo said, tossing her napkin onto the table as she rose to her feet. She left the dining room without another word.

She could not… would not… welcome a Gilbraith. He was going to take her house, her land, her tenants… everything that she held dear… everything that embodied the memory and spirit of her father and her grandfather… everything that she had worked to maintain for the last three years, since she'd taken the reins of the estate management into her own hands. The land was fertile, the tenants hardworking and content. It was hers, and he was going to take all that from her. She knew every stick, every plant, every ridge of mud on this land. She knew the tenants, their trials, their triumphs, their grievances. She knew the feckless and the industrious; she knew their children. And they knew her.

Theo realized that she was standing at the foot of the stairs, her knuckles white against the carved newel. The hall was empty, the massive oak front door open, dust motes tossing in the broad path of sunlight. Her eye roamed the room, resting on every familiar object – the bench beside the door, where in distant memory her father would sit to have his muddy boots removed; the long Jacobean table and the burnished copper bowl full of rose petals; the deep inglenook fireplace where, during the winter, the fire was never allowed to die and guests were welcomed with warm spiced wine, where on Christmas Eve the tenants would gather.