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"You are still here, Papa."

"I am. Your mother did send me to fetch you for tea, if you remember, and I am not brave enough to return without you." He smiled at her pleading expression. "However, I am prepared to negotiate a stay of execution. You may stay here all afternoon and I shall do my best to stop anyone disturbing you. But must promise to accompany me on your mother's treasure hunt tomorrow. I can think of no one I would rather have on my team."

"Oh, Papa. Must I?"

"Your mother has been working on the thing for weeks, and Lord only knows what she has devised. She keeps disappearing with maps of the estate and looking terribly pleased with herself whenever I ask what she is about. I know that expression, Kate. Whatever she has devised, I shall need someone with a logical mind beside me if I am to stand any chance at all."

That earned him another proper smile, and Darcy felt a familiar little tug in his chest.

"Come now, Katie Kat. One treasure hunt tomorrow, and in return you may spend the rest of today hidden in here with your book. I shall even bar your silly uncles from this part of the house."

"Very well, Papa. I suppose that is a fair deal," she said with a resigned sigh.

"Wonderful," he said, content to have arranged the thing so well. His wife was usually far better at negotiating with their daughters, so he felt rather pleased with himself. He bent and kissed Kate on the forehead. "Enjoy your peaceful afternoon, my dear. I must return this one to his parents and then go and listen to your great-aunt deliver a sermon on everything that is wrong with the modern world."

Kate laughed. "Good luck, Papa."

"Thank you. I shall need it."

Chapter Three

Kate came down to breakfast the next morning and was pleased to find that the room was not too overstuffed with visiting friends and family. Her eldest sister Bella and her husband George sat together in the middle of the table, baby William bouncing on his papa's lap and sucking happily on a piece of buttered toast. Her youngest sister, Mina, sat opposite, head bent over her sketchbook and her loosely braided hair falling over one shoulder and dangerously close to a bowl of raspberry preserve. Her aunt Jane and uncle Charles stood at the sideboard filling their plates, and there were a few other guests scattered around the room reading the paper or taking tea or coffee, but it was not an overwhelming crush as yet.

Kate slid into the seat beside Mina and shifted the younger girl's braid out of its perilous position. Mina was astonishingly beautiful, with fair hair, eyes as blue as cornflowers and smooth pale skin. She had a tall, almost noble stature when she remembered to stand up straight. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Mina had yet to realise any of this. Her one true love, and to put it more plainly, her one true obsession, was art. She talked about art, thought about art, drew and painted whenever she could, using pencils, pastels, chalks or whatever else she could lay her hands on. Kate secretly thought that if Mina were ever denied access to a well-stocked art cabinet, she would mix a little mud and water and paint with her fingers.

She was talented, very talented, but she also existed in a slightly dreamlike state somewhere between reality and the imagined world she created on canvas or paper. Kate gave her sister's braid a friendly tug.

"Morning, Kate," Mina said distractedly, without looking up.

"And what great masterpiece are we working on this morning, Min?"

"Just a little sketch of Aunt Jane."

Her aunt, hearing her name, looked over from her position at the sideboard. "She would insist upon it, Kate, my dear. I have no notion why she wishes to draw an old married lady at breakfast, but there was apparently no arguing with her."

Kate smiled fondly at her aunt. Jane Bingley was perhaps the gentlest and kindest creature Kate knew, and even in her middle years there was something ethereally beautiful about her. She could understand why anyone would want to capture her image. Mina was very much her double in looks, although where Aunt Jane was sensible and thoughtful of everyone around her, Mina remained firmly in her own world. Even now she had already disengaged from the conversation, her head bent lower over her sketchbook as her pencil moved rapidly across the page.

"Good morning, Bella. Good morning, George," Kate said, turning to her eldest sister and brother-in-law. "And a very good morning to you, young Mr William."

"He has had a very good morning indeed," said Bella, "although I am afraid Nanny cannot say the same. He upset an entire bowl of milk and porridge over the poor woman's head. She was bent down picking up his toys when he struck. I have sent her for a lie-down and can only hope she has not turned against us entirely as a family." She bent forward and stroked one of William's fat cheeks. "It has been difficult finding someone who is the right fit since we lost Melinda. I really do not want to frighten this one away."

"No need to fret, Princess," said her husband, a familiar twinkle appearing in his eye. "There are enough Darcys and Bingleys and assorted relations currently in residence to look after this little man, however much porridge he chooses to fling about. We can pass him around the house like a parcel. Kate, would you like a turn?"

"No, thank you, George. I have no desire to be coated in butter before I have even begun my breakfast."

"Very well. Your loss." He took his son from Bella and lifted him high above his head, causing William to kick his little legs and giggle uproariously.

Bella and George had now been married for more than two years, and although Kate did not entirely understand the bond between them, particularly their frequent distraction with one another to the detriment of all good sense, she could see that George cared deeply for her sister. Their relationship had begun under rather unusual circumstances. Bella had taken it upon herself to run away to Cornwall and had then somehow managed to get herself kidnapped by a gang of smugglers. It had since become a well-worn joke in the family whenever anyone was being even slightly disobliging:

What are you going to do? Run away to Cornwall?

Bella always met the remark with a glare, but as the whole thing had turned out so well for her, Kate supposed she could not really say much against it.

"Can I get you anything, my dear Kate?" called her uncle Charles, peering around his wife from his position at the sideboard.

"I should like a roll and some bacon, please."

"Excellent choice. Bacon sets a man up, or a woman—excuse me—up nicely for the day. Very nicely indeed."