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At the top of the stairs, Viola sat waiting for her. “Good, you’re back. I was thinking …”

“Can you tell me as I dress? We’ve much to do today.”

“We do?” Viola stood and stretched, drawing a coverlet around her shoulders. “You saw Lord G?”

“I did. He says we may have our ball in the castle courtyard.” Cordelia came up the stairs and stopped, waiting for her sister to move aside.

Viola didn’t move. “Wait. He changed his mind? Why?”

“I don’t know. A whim, a rare act of generosity …”

Viola shook her head. “You don’t trust him, do you? Lord G hardly seems whimsical. He strikes me as a ruthless, single-minded sort of man who will have his way, no matter what opposes him. Don’t forget that he means to tear down our home.”

Cordelia smiled. “You are absolutely right, Viola, but apparently he will not do so before our ball. So, today we take advantage of the delay he’s offered. Our task is to get the invitations to our neighbors.”

Viola grinned. “We didn’t need Lady Frome’s letters after all.”

“Viola, we still very much need Lady Frome. Her goodwill, her recognizing us as respectable, and her chairs are definitely necessary to our ball. She is the first person we must call upon.”

“Yes, well, her chairs will be useful. But I do want to hand her the invitation, you know, just to see her face. Do we go to the castle to start preparing?”

Cordelia shook her head. “Today, Graymont’s sending Mr. Winter to us to help with the arrangements.”

Viola at last stepped aside. “Oh, he’s sending Winter. Well, that’s good. As long as we keep Mir around, Winter will agree to anything.”

Viola was incorrigible. Cordelia resolved to send Miranda on an errand as soon as she could think of one.

*

Gray found Winter at his desk, sun streaming through the room’s east window, piles of papers lined up in neat order. His able secretary appeared unaware of Gray’s presence. Gray crossed to the desk and picked up the ammonite fossil Winter kept there, a coiled beauty that fit neatly in the palm of Gray’s hand.

Winter looked up. “Sir? Do you need me? I was making calculations for moving those stones.”

Gray waved a hand at the paper piles. “Carry on. My business can wait a few minutes.”

Winter went back to his work. Gray made a circle of the room. From the first time he’d seen Cordelia Staveley in her swim attire, he had wanted to remove those buttons. Once he’d started, he had seen that the lapels should go too. He could say that his motive was the pure disinterested desire to help a fellow enthusiast enjoy the sport. But standing close to her, he had known that he was far from disinterested. The whole business shifted things between them the moment she submitted to his cutting off those absurd lapels.

He had already snipped away the first lapel before it occurred to him that her submission might be a mere scheme, a ploy to get him to change his mind about the ball. Doggedly, he cut away the second lapel. The result had been a deep V of a neckline that skimmed her collarbone and exposed the slim column of her throat. He had distanced himself from her at once.

The water recalled him to himself. He had the satisfaction of seeing her move easily, with the freedom he’d once imagined for her. Then, when they’d reached the turning point, he had seen the challenge in her eyes. She might want that ball, but she would not play the coquette to get it. They were still adversaries. There was no manipulation. Instead, there was real danger. He might actually like her. He had turned back for the shore, swimming hard, until he felt the burn in his muscles and the working of his lungs.

Now his thoughts came around to the ball again. She wanted him out of the castle, but she was the one who needed to leave the place. In Gray’s mind it was not the least of her careless father’s sins that he had ruined his oldest daughter’s chances to find a husband in London. But Sir Humphrey’s recklessness was not of Gray’s making and did not make Gray responsible for the daughters. Chance had brought them together in this odd way.

It should not matter to Gray in the least that Cordelia Staveley was doomed to a spinsterhood of caring for her younger sisters. He caught himself. Once again, she was too much on his mind. Thinking about her had to stop. Winter could handle her concerns about the ball, and the ball must introduce other gentlemen into her life. Surely one of them would see her as desirable enough to overlook the lost dowry. He knew of men rich enough. Of course, he would want her to receive an honorable offer, not some carte blanche. Once she was out of his mind, he could concentrate all his energy on rebuilding Delamere.

“The Staveley ball is on,” he said.

“Sir?” Winter put aside his pen.

“I told Miss Staveley to expect a visit from you. Help them in whatever way you can.”

“Me, sir? I know nothing of balls.”

Gray laughed. “Don’t worry, Winter, the ladies will tell you everything you need to know. Your only job is to follow orders.”

Gray waited for his loyal man to tell him that he was barking mad. Instead, Winter looked around at the piles on his desk. “When is the ball to be?”

“The Friday before the full moon. Miss Staveley will tell you.”