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That was the answer: Most people didn’t see beneath the surface of Diantha.

Simon did. And he very much feared life would never be the same again.

He decided to voice a question he was aware would seem to Archie as if it had come from out of nowhere. “When was the last time you raised Miss Brown’s wages?”

“I …” Archie looked bewildered, then stricken. “You know, I don’t believe that I ever have.”

“Over, what has it been? Nine, almost ten, years?”

“I shall remedy the situation at once.”

“I should think so.”

Simon considered going further down this unexpected path he found himself on, but was it wise? Probably not.

He did it anyway.

“Have you considered what will happen to Miss Brown”—it felt strange to call her that, for she had transformed fully into Diantha in his mind—“after your mother, you will forgive the indelicacy, but after your mother no longer has need of her?”

“What do you mean, what will happen?”

Good God, Archie could be a dolt sometimes. “Where will she go? Where will she live?”

“She will stay on with us, won’t she?”

“I don’t know. Will she?”

“She is practically a member of the family, is she not?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No.” The furrow was back. “No.” Archie picked up his mug and took a long drink.

Simon did likewise. He had no idea what he was doing. Why he had said all that. Except that it stood to reason that more money could only help Diantha in her quest to save for her life of quiet poverty.

Several hours later, Simon still had no idea what he was doing, but he was doing it anyway.

They were gathered, all of them, in the drawing room after dinner. He was brooding, sitting apart from the card-playing crowd in his usual chair. Well, he wasn’t brooding so much as he was willing Diantha to come and sit by him, as she had before.

It wasn’t working.

She was laughing at something Olive was saying, and rather boisterously.

He scanned the room. Archie was watching her, too.

Archie suddenly shifted his gaze to Simon. Simon looked away quickly.

He opened his book. Endeavored to read it.

And was utterly taken aback when she appeared, towering over him like … well, he didn’t know what. But he was sitting, and she was standing, and she was backlit in such a way that she almost looked like she was a divine creature passing judgment on him.

Perhaps she was.

“Di—Miss Brown.”

“May I join you?”

“Yes, of course.”