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“All right.” Torie would come home whenever she felt like coming home, but she saw no point in arguing about it.

“You just made a promise,” the viscount said sharply. She couldn’t think of him as Dom, her Dom. Not this glowering, chilly man. Glowering, chilly, and jealous.

“I will return,” Torie said, exhausted. The children would miss him.

When she woke in the morning, she had a faint memory of strong arms around her, and there was an imprint of his head on the pillow beside hers, but he was already gone.

“Toast!” Emily shrilled, coming in the door with a tray. As Torie drank tea, her maid bustled about, packing more clothing even though she’d already sent a trunk down to Mulberry the night before.

A trunk for ten days in the country, where one didn’t ever dress for dinner, especially when one’s spouse remained in London. “Are my pinafore and paints in the carriage?”

Emily nodded. “Mr. Flitwick took care of those himself.”

“Excellent,” Torie said, forcing herself to finish a piece of toast. There was nothing worse than growing hungry on a long stretch of road.

“The twins are ready to go, though they had a terrible row over that dratted rabbit this morning.”

“Why?”

“Miss Florence says the rabbit must accompany us, as he’ll be lonely by himself. Master Valentine says if the rabbit comes to the country, the creature will run away.”

“If he’s in the coach with us, we’ll have to be constantly throwing pellets out the window.”

“I shouldn’t admit it, but I am very happy to be following you in the second carriage, given the odor. I can’t think how Nanny ignores that smell in the nursery, but she says one gets used to it.” Emily turned up her nose. “That would never happen to me. Oh! I forgot to tell you that Lord Kelbourne intends to return to say farewell after the morning session in Parliament.”

“Unfortunately, we’re leaving directly, as I informed him yesterday,” Torie said, climbing out of bed.

Emily opened her mouth, but Torie caught her eye.

“Yes, my lady,” her maid said.

“I should like to leave within the hour, since the children are ready. I’ll wash at the basin and wear a plain dimity.”

“Within the hour,” Emily echoed with a gulp, starting to rush about.

The three of them were loaded in the coach on time, with Oddie in his cage on the floor, Mulberry and Simons on the box, and two liveried footmen in the rear.

“His lordship’s orders,” Mulberry said when Torie suggested the two footmen could travel in the second coach with Emily and Nanny.

“It will be so dusty and uncomfortable.”

But Mulberry shook his head. She could see the blunderbuss stored at his feet.

As they were about to set off, the coach door suddenly opened again, and Mulberry’s face appeared. “The Duchess of Huntington, my lady.” He withdrew, and the cheerful face of English’s top steampipe designer appeared in his stead.

“We were coming to see you!” the duchess said. “Hello, twins.”

Florence and Valentine jumped up to curtsy and bow, Valentine’s head just grazing the top of the carriage. “Good morning, Your Grace,” they chorused.

“I’m afraid that we are on the very point of going to the country,” Torie said smiling, because grim though she felt, she genuinely liked Her Grace.

“I want to commission you to paint my red steam engine.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t my forte,” Torie said apologetically.

The duchess waved her hands. “Yes, so your husband said. He thinks you can’t do anything more than flowers and kittens.”

Torie ground her teeth. Dominic had seen her paintings. Surely he knew that she was choosing to paint flowers, rather than being confined to that subject. But then, she’d never wanted to boast, had she?