No one at Chesterfield had the luxury of sleeping in the morning after the Ostenby's dinner, as there was still much to do before the next guest arrived.

Claiming an excess of energy, Victoria skipped breakfasting with the rest and instead went out early for a walk. Soon after the plates were cleared away, William Harding and Mary declared their resolve to follow her, hoping they might still have time to catch her up. By ten in the morning, the building was cleared of all except Lord Ashenby and Denton.

Denton felt it was their duty to remain behind with the lord, much as they too wished to avoid formally greeting Nathaniel Harding. They looked on his arrival with a mute, resigned sort of dread.

Ashenby drank his tea through pursed lips, but he did not choose to give voice to his complaints. At last, he checked his pocketwatch and said, "I believe it is time, Denton. I'd hoped that Victoria at least would have returned, but it seems that you and I alone must receive him."

Forcing a neutral tone, Denton replied, "I will follow you."

As the two began making their way, Ashenby declared, "I think the two of you will get on in time. He makes himself out to be a bit of a scoundrel at times, but he has always been at his best when he's in this neighborhood. All one needs is to know him, and then," he paused in a rare moment of consideration, finishing, "then one understands him better. Those things which might appear unwholesome are cast in a new light, his virtues apparent when they are no longer hidden deep in the shadow of his flaws."

In Denton's opinion, it was not a glowing recommendation, but they saw that he truly cared for this friend of his. Although they remained utter unconvinced that they would ever get on with Mr. Harding, they nevertheless resolved to hide their distaste for Ashenby's sake.

Much like the arrival of William Harding and the Misses Ashenby, Denton found themself waiting close to Ashenby in nervous apprehension. Unlike the previous event, they felt as though they had a better idea of what to expect. "Ashenby," they ventured to speak up, "far be it from me to question any decision of yours, but do you feel like there is something not altogether right in this whole affair? Everyone is acting so strangely. I cannot make sense of it myself."

Ashenby was far from seeming offended, nor even as irate as he had been in the morning. "Close ties, my dear Mr. Denton," he replied cheerfully. "It all has to do with years that are long behind us, and I for one am anxious to heal the breach. The others will be too, with time."

There was still a shadow of hesitation in his looks, and Denton would have pressed further, had not the lord looked down at them and smiled. Guilt quelled their questions.

"It's why I need you," Ashenby continued, "you have the right disposition. You will be a boon to him during the brief time his relations remain cold."

"I hope so." They thought of saying more, namely that one could not so easily undo years of estrangement in a matter of a few weeks. But Ashenby seemed to cling to his scheme of redemption, and they did not have the heart to instill doubt. Remaining silent, they watched as the carriage came into view, approaching swiftly on the drive. The horses appeared tired.

Once the vehicle rolled to a stop, its occupant immediately burst from its doors. Nathaniel Harding wore a smart summer suit of the latest fashion, impeccably tailored but slightly wrinkled. There were bags under his eyes, and Denton wondered if he had come directly from London without stopping. Still, his smile was the same as they had ever seen it, like a fox who had just discovered their way into a henhouse.

"Nathan!" Ashenby exclaimed, shaking the man's hand warmly as he dismounted the carriage.

"James! So you are master at last. How proper it feels to see you installed here. Full circle from the days of our youth, so it were."

Ashenby and Mr. Harding embraced like brothers.

This familiar greeting caught Denton off guard. How could this man sit so low in their own esteem, and yet so high in Ashenby's? They flattered themself that they possessed a forgiving nature, and yet they could not excuse the character and behavior of Mr. Harding, nor could they feel guilty for not undertaking pains to do so as their christian duty.

Still, that Ashenby could like him so much was disquieting: briefly, Denton wrestled with the notion that there was some as yet hidden quality to the man that served as his redemption. If it were to be so, it must be something great to outweigh the damage that such a man had already caused, his insolence and vanity.

No, there could be nothing that would satisfy, not to Denton.

As if he had overheard their thoughts, Nathaniel Harding next immediately, pointedly extended his hand to them. "Ah, young Oliver - for I will be informal as I have already claimed you as a great friend, if not in the present than in the future - how do you find the countryside? You know I grew up about six miles off."

Denton shook Mr. Harding's hand reluctantly, longing to slip from the man's grasp and retreat a few steps. He held on to their hand a beat too long, breaking away with a flourish of fingers across Denton's palm. They clenched their jaw, but maintained courtesy. "I take it you had a pleasant journey. It is beautiful country. I was so flattered by Lord Ashenby's invitation."

"Yes, as was I." Mr. Harding turned back to Ashenby. "I haven't yet conveyed my gratitude as I ought. To be invited to a place such as Chesterfield is not something one should ever take for granted. James, I am much in your debt, especially as London is not so pleasant just now..." His smile faltered, but he quickly rallied. "Dear fellow, you are a true friend. I don't deserve one such as you."

Tempted as they were to agree, Denton was curious as to what lay behind Mr. Harding's statement, why it was that London wasn't so pleasant. They quickly came to the conclusion that they would rather not know.

"I was sorry to hear of your troubles," Ashenby was serious, a gloom Denton had never seen before settling over his features. "We shall not speak more on them."

Mr. Harding nodded gratefully. Once again, he turned back to Denton, an intensity in his gaze as he regarded them. It was as if he had asked a question, and was awaiting their answer.

Recalling Ashenby's advice about posture and mood, they forced themself to stand tall under his scrutiny. "You have nothing to fear from me," they added at last.

Earnestness leached from Mr. Harding's features like water from a basin. The same playful smirk Denton had seen so often in London overtook his expression as he said slyly, "Will you help me ease my pains, I wonder? For you look as though you would listen to all the troubles in the world. You are too good a creature, like a woman. Such a young and fair youth!"

All amazement, Denton had no ready reply, looking to Ashenby pitifully for aid.

Mr. Harding continued on unaware. "I have half a mind to take you as a wife for the time I'm here - for such you would be, as I want someone to soothe me, to comfort me, and what is that but a wife?"

Denton was now very clearly uncomfortable, a nervous pallor overtaking their features as they tried desperately to conceal their feelings. Mr. Harding was the very last person on earth they would wish to know of their secret, but if he'd truly discovered the depth of their ruse, it would be all over in an instant. They flinched on instinct.

Happily, Ashenby had clearly had enough of Mr. Harding as well. "Leave off him!" he chided. "I won't let you in if you tease him so."

Mr. Harding laughed, holding up his hands in mock defeat. "But our dear Mr. Denton is so green! But far be it from me to tease. For I am a great educator of men, and the youth clearly has much to learn." It was said in a droll tone.

Through his wording, Denton could be sure now that their secret was safe, but Mr. Harding's reply presented another problem. Unsure of how to answer but nonetheless feeling insulted, they burst out with, "I assure you, sir, my education was tended to with the utmost care. My guardian, Sir Eccleston took great pains with me to bring me up a gentleman in so short a time, and I must defend the effort he has devoted to my improvement."

Mr. Harding smiled a roguish smile, casting his eyes aside to look at Ashenby as he replied, "I am sure he has been very devoted to you, Oliver."

At that, Ashenby flushed, though whether in embarrassment or anger Denton could not say. "Harding, Denton, both of you come inside," he insisted, forcibly steering his friend towards the manor and marching him along, as Denton trailed behind. "You'll be amazed at how lovely Victoria has grown, Nathan."

"I will be all astonishment as you demand." Harding replied coyly.

Denton felt as if they were losing mastery of themself. Their blood boiled. They must fight back, throw Mr. Harding off his guard somehow. "Have you not seen Miss Victoria in your recent stay in London?" they demanded. "I cannot believe you would call only on Lord Ashenby in such a long stretch of time. Both of the ladies mentioned you as their particular childhood friend and playfellow."

Mr. Harding's eyes narrowed, a darkness flashing out of their depths that chilled the summer air. "I admit, I have been largely preoccupied with some business and was not able to see as much of the estimable Miss Ashenbys as I wished." His air was cool, collected, and nothing immediately betrayed it as a lie.

Denton had no rejoinder, nor even a suspicion they could voice to Ashenby. They remembered very clearly the change that had come over the two young women at the mention of Nathaniel Harding's name, and felt certain that the man standing before them was the cause of some great, private injury. With an effort, they stifled their accusations and gave Mr. Harding a cool smile. "You must make up for lost time. They are the best of women, and it wouldn't do to neglect or pain them."

Mr. Harding smiled, although his eyes remained shrouded. "If we are not to neglect them any further, we'd better not keep them waiting then, Mr. Denton."

----- 

In fact, it was to be the other way around. After two in the afternoon had chimed and still none of the walkers had returned, Ashenby defeatedly called for luncheon to be served. The portions were large, presentation impeccable, and Denton wondered offhandedly if Ashenby had planned for more than six, or if the lord's extravagant taste had gotten the better of him. No, they reasoned, that was too disingenuous: it was as likely that Ashenby was driven by a desire to set his guests at ease during their intended first meeting, and so he strove for perfect execution of the circumstances that fell under his control.

Now, the gentlemen had more room-temperature finger sandwiches than three could possibly eat, and oversteeped tea to wash them down with.

Denton took a french macaron from the dessert display, regretting their decision as the first bite sounded loud in the silence. It was difficult to keep from cringing.

Mr. Harding made a production of praising the sandwiches, and consumed another with relish bordering on ungentlemanly, casting his gaze towards Ashenby to see if the lord had been amused by his antics. "This has been scrumptious," he proclaimed, tense air discordant with the casual nature of his statement.

But Ashenby was lost to his pocket watch. "They should have been back by now," he murmured at last, his brows knit.

As if they were throwing off the heavy weight that had settled in the room, Denton burst up from their chair. "I'll go fetch them," they volunteered, "if only I can have use of a horse."

Mr. Harding looked to Ashenby, something of an apology in his gaze, but he seemed to side with Denton.

"Oh, all right!" Ashenby sighed, throwing up his hands. "I will give up on my expectations for the day. As of this moment, I would rather be sure that all of my friends are safe."

 -----

Within half an hour, a horse had been prepared and Denton set off along the road. The afternoon had turned cloudy, and the flies would not leave their poor mare alone - a sure sign rain was imminent. Their errand had urgency now, its purpose grown beyond a mere excuse to leave the manor and Nathaniel Harding. The prospect of Victoria being caught out alone to weather the storm did not bode well, the open nature of the countryside leaving her vulnerable to both illness and injury. They could not get her look from the evening before out of their head, nor easily shake their suspicion that she had deliberately avoided Mr. Harding.

The wind picked up, dispelling the cloud of flies that nagged both horse and rider, and the mare broke into a canter with a shake of her head. Exhilarated by her speed, Denton loosened the reins and allowed her to pick their path. They liked the mare, plain and brown as she was. She pulled against her restraints, testing for a gap where her will could fit through. Though they were happy to borrow her freedom, Denton felt rather sorry to be riding her, to be made yet another weight.

Led by the rhythmic three-beat gait, Denton's thoughts began to wander. A privilege they had so easily granted the mare, they wished that someone might free them too, or at least allow for room to breathe! When others saw Oliver Denton, Denton knew that they imagined a docile creature, an awkward young man, but very much a gentleman. Not a one could perceive the invisible reins and shanked bit that kept Denton in bondage. Never could they say or do as they wished unfettered. And even if they were to be cut loose, it would not grant them freedom, but send them plummeting into the unknown.

Her excess energy spent, the brown mare slowed to a walk. A few paces of rest and her head picked up unexpectedly, ears pricked forward. Soon Denton could hear what caught her attention: hoofbeats approached, the sound of a single rider. As the figure neared, they thought they could make out a familiar riding habit - it was Anne Ostenby. They raised a hand in greeting.

Anne slowed her horse. "Hullo," she said, out of breath, "I was hoping I might run into someone from Chesterfield."

"Good afternoon, Miss Ostenby." Denton had to take ahold of the reins in order to prevent their curious mare from meeting her fellow. "Is everything all right?" they asked, attempting to remain serious as their mount began to paw the ground impatiently.

For a brief moment, Anne almost snickered, but she kept her composure at the last second. "There's no real cause for alarm, only I believe that we have found what - or I should say who - you are looking for. My brother and I have been out for our daily ride, and we stumbled upon Miss Victoria."

"Thank goodness," Denton replied, ashamed that they had allowed self-pity to distract them from the situation at hand. "How is she?"

"She's a bit tired, and a little cross with herself for exposing her complexion to the sun all afternoon. Edward gave her some water, and it seemed to revive her. She is otherwise unharmed."

"Have you seen Miss Ashenby or Mr. Harding? Are they not with her?"

Anne raised a quizzical brow, her tone betraying her awareness that some intrigue was occurring. "They dropped by the house to call on Mamma and Charlotte, although they left us several hours ago. I was under the impression that they returned to Chesterfield."

"I'm sure that they will make their way back shortly, if they have not already," Denton replied, looking up to the darkening sky. Although they wished they could out the whole scenario to Anne, it was not theirs to share as they pleased.

"Yes, I'm sure you're right." Betrayed by her expression once more, Anne could not help but let on that she knew more than she spoke.

Denton shifted in the saddle and cleared their throat, settling on saying, "I came alone."

"You escaped." Her tone left no room for argument.

"Miss Ostenby," they redirected, "about Miss Victoria's situation?"

"I've left her a little distance off the road, about half a mile yonder, with my brother attending her. I meant to journey to Chesterfield and ask for a carriage to be sent to her, as she is quite fatigued from walking such a distance."

"With the gathering storm, we are running out of time," Denton said. "We must make do with what we have. Show me the way, and I will follow you. Miss Victoria can have the use of my mount, and if you please, you and your brother will see her back to the manor and explain her state to Lord Ashenby."

 -----

In short order, Anne and Denton arrived in the spot she had described. Beneath a widespread tree sat Victoria, recovering her strength, while Edward Ostenby anxiously waited on her. When he caught sight of Denton and his sister, he waved and approached them cheerily enough, and it was clear he had spent the afternoon in an attempt to bolster Victoria's spirits.

"That was quick indeed, Anne!" he said as he shook Denton's hand. "How did you manage it?"

"He was five minutes up the road," Anne replied dryly, watching Denton as they slid off their horse and tied her to a low-hanging branch.

Denton hesitated a moment as they came to stand over Victoria. Her eyes were dull, her face pink, and perspiration-damp hair clung to her temples. Overcome with a wave of concern, they crouched gently beside her, sliding off a riding glove as they raised their hand to her forehead.

The lady jerked back in laguid surprised before regaining equilibrium. "Mr. Denton, you frightened me! I'm all right, just a little fatigued. It's all my own fault, and I must bear the consequences."

Denton quickly stood upright, donning their glove. "Ashenby sent me," they offered, feeling compelled to explain themself. "He was concerned for your safety. I wanted to assess your condition myself."

Victoria leaned her head against the trunk and closed her eyes. "I've kept him waiting far too long."

"If you're called upon to explain yourself, you could say that you got lost." Anne said. "That always works with Mamma, for it is hard to argue against such a statement."

Victoria let out a small hiss of air, nearly a laugh, as she smiled wanly up at Anne. "I take it you get lost a great deal."

"Oh yes, quite frequently." Anne echoed her playful sarcasm.

Ostenby shook his head at his sister. "Yes, and you make Mamma lay the blame on me. She can't believe that I don't know the way back to my own house, and suddenly I'm in a lecture that lasts half an hour on the foundational duties of a gentleman."

"Far better a half an hour lecture than a lifelong sermon on the expectations of a lady." Anne retorted.

With no ready rejoinder, Ostenby looked to Denton for aid. Alas, they could not help him, as they were of the same opinion as Anne.

A gust of wind shook the tree, causing Denton's mare to pull back with unease. They hastened to release her, saying, "We had better hurry. Miss Ashenby, this horse is for you. Mr. Ostenby, would you and your sister be so kind as to accompany her to Chesterfield? I know Lord Ashenby will receive you, and I'm sure he will be more than happy to have your company until the rain disspells."

"What will you do, Mr. Denton?" Victoria demanded.

"I will walk. I have not been riding long, nor am I tired."

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but thought better of it as Ostenby helped her to stand as she swayed on her feet. "I'm very grateful," she said at last.

Denton watched as Victoria situated herself in the saddle, and once she was comfortable, they handed her the reins. "She can be a bit hot," they cautioned, "but she's not a danger."

"We will see you at the manor." Ostenby tipped his hat.

"Be quick," added Anne.

With that, the riders were off, leaving Denton to wander down the hill back towards the road.

 -----

Within ten minutes of Denton reaching the road, the heavens opened above them. There were no trees to shelter them, but they consigned themself to trudging onwards. Where else could they go? The storm was not liable to let up soon. Soaked to the skin, Denton angrily swatted away the droplets that streamed from their hair and fell into their eyes. It was useless. The day had turned into a complete and utter disaster.

Its misery was not without a cause, and that lay far beyond the weather. Nathaniel Harding's behavior was confounding, the leering nature of his comments to Denton and the whole of his relationship with Ashenby. It struck Denton how little they truly knew of their host, his friends and his activities. Despite Ashenby having an earnest nature, he was rather secretive. Before coming to Chesterfield, they had never heard him speak of his childhood or his family. In London, he had numerous acquaintances he was quick to call friends, but none of them seemed to be on intimate footing with him. His embrace with Mr. Harding was the closest affection they had seen him share.

Supposing his or Mr. Harding's intentions were romantic in nature, it could offer one possible explanation for the tension in the household. And yet, was not Mr. Harding the very womanizer that general report had painted him to be? That also left the problem of Ashenby's other guests, for they would have to be aware of his inclination, and yet they showed him no scorn - they spoke of him with great affection, even in private. They did not extend this same courtesy to Mr. Harding.

Nothing made any sense! There was so much left unknown, and on such a subject, no questions could never be asked, nor even the faintest suspicion breathed. Denton was firmly backed into a corner, and they must see how it all played out. Still, they resolved to stay as far distant from Mr. Harding as possible, even at the risk of offending Ashenby. Supposing Mr. Harding's presumed affection should reverse and tend towards them! The consequences of such a disaster did not bear thinking about.

Denton shook their head fiercely, sending water droplets everywhere, though it made little difference in the downpour. They could scarcely see a tree's length in front of them, but their ears caught a sound, a muffled beat. Someone was approaching at a gallop, but squinting into the fog, the figure was not readily apparent.

The hoofbeats grew louder, but Denton could not tell from which quarter they approached, for it seemed everywhere at once with the howling wind and lashing rain. They called out with little hope of being heard. Disoriented, they stood still, trying to make sense of the direction - and then the horse and rider were very nearly on top of them!

Dodging the flying, mud spattered hooves just in time, they came to rest tangled in the wet brush at the side of the road. Heart racing, hands shaking, they leapt up and bit back a curse at whatever feckless scoundrel had thought galloping down a narrow country road in a rainstorm was all in good fun. When they laid eyes on the rider, they let out a groan.

"Mr. Denton!" Anne slid from the saddle in a fluid movement, rushing to help Denton out of the ditch, patting ineffectually at the mud stains and turf that clung to their ensemble. "I'm heartily sorry," she apologized over and over. "Please tell me you're unharmed?"

It was all Denton could do to look at her in shock. She was soaked through, her riding habit beyond repair. The hat she had been wearing earlier was conspicuously absent and her hair had pulled free, hanging in curled locks down her back and face. Droplets clung to her lashes, lengths of fabric to her body.

"Are you stunned? Say something!" Anne insisted.

"Where on god's green earth are you going, Miss Anne?" They cried at last.

She shook her head ruefully. "Once it started raining, I doubled back. I wanted to find you. I'm sure Edward will have no trouble seeing Miss Victoria to the manor, but I could not be so sure you would arrive safely."

As explanations went, it created more questions than it gave answers. "Now that you have found me," Denton asked, "what do you intend to do?"

Anne patted her mare's neck fondly, sending up a mist of droplets. "Minerva can comfortably carry two. Come with me, and we shall get you home."

Her proposition was brave, but utterly insupportable. Denton flushed at the very thought of arriving at Ashenby's doorstep in such a manner, to say nothing of what the scenario could do to Anne's reputation. And they should not - would not - be so very close as a ride demanded, especially with their current state leaving them so vulnerable to discovery. Riding with Anne was a complete impossibility, and they wished that the idea had never been put into their head. They also wished that they did not want it quite so much.

"Miss Ostenby," Denton said firmly, as much to convince themself as Anne, "you know as well as I that we ought not to attempt it."

"You might catch cold!" she insisted.

They shook their head, fighting the impulse to give in. "At the risk of offending you, I declare my resolve. My answer is no, and I have given it."

Anne scowled, thrusting the reins in their direction. "If your ridiculous moral objections are too strong to be gotten over, then you ride alone."

"Listen to me," Denton pleaded, "it's needless for both of us to suffer. Return to Chesterfield, and I will meet you there, safe and sound. It cannot be more than a mile from here."

"It's nearly two."

They held back a groan. "Hardly far."

"Hardly," Anne agreed with forced cheerfulness, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. She carelessly hiked up the hem of her skirts and tightened her laces. Thus settled, she took Denton's arm firmly, reins still gripped in her other hand.

Denton, feeling their face grow hot, looked away until they felt her arm in theirs. When they realized she meant to walk with them, they tried to object, saying, "Miss Ostenby - "

"Mr. Denton," she interrupted, parroting their tone back at them.

They let out a heavy sigh in response, but began walking. It had not been their intention to argue with anybody today, yet somehow conflict had found them on all sides and left them utterly exhausted. Perhaps this was the promised divine punishment for their mere existence, and their desires really did pave the way for misery.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Anne asked.

"A sudden headache," Denton murmured truthfully, before remembering it was not a very masculine excuse.

Anne made no reply, perhaps wondering if

she

was the cause of Denton's sudden headache. They scowled so fiercely that, despite her boldness, Anne said nothing at all, and it was a long, quiet march to Chesterfield, the distance giving the two ample opportunity to think on the awkwardness of their silence.

----- 

When at last Denton and Anne arrived at the gates of Chesterfield, they found a groom ready to take Anne's mare to the stables, and a footman sent to receive them. To the surprise of the servants and the gentry alike, Ashenby immediately dashed out into the rain once he spotted them, throwing his own coat over Denton in a grand gesture. "Miss Ostenby, I am in your debt," he said with a bow. "Quickly, quickly let us get you both inside. What a day, eh Denton?"

With that, the two were ushered in, dripping onto the tiled floor, and led back to the study. Inside, they found Edward Ostenby in conversation with William and Nathaniel Harding. Denton was conscious that they and Anne looked much the worse for wear.

William Harding started as he took in their appearance. "You're half drowned!"

"What could you possibly have done to incur the wrath of God?" Mr. Harding's tone was considerably drier, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards as he eyed the two. He stood with one arm stretched hesitantly over the large wing-backed chair where his brother sat.

Ostenby said nothing at all, but leapt up from his seat at a loss, standing half at his sister's side and half in front of her, but there was nothing to shield her with. To Denton's surprise, she was blushing. Wordlessly, they shrugged out of the coat that Ashenby had generously lent them and handed it to Ostenby, who wrapped it around his sister at once. She was at last able to look up from the floor, although her face was still very pink.

Denton then remembered their own ensemble, but even without the coat, the heavy, waterlogged fabric of their vest offered enough concealment.

Harding spoke up first, eager to break the dreadful silence. "Thank goodness you two are all right. I'm sorry we caused such a fuss, and heartily ashamed of the part I played in this fiasco."

"Mr. Harding - Mr. William, I should say," Anne replied, "don't trouble yourself on my behalf." As all eyes fell on her, she shrunk away from the gentlemen's combined gaze once more. If she'd meant to say anything else, it was lost, swallowed up by her embarrassment. Her looks were left to communicate the rest of her forgiveness.

"What good are little brothers if they do not get somebody into a spot of trouble now and again," Mr. Harding teased gently.

Harding recoiled from the family association as if he had been struck. "I do not cause as much trouble as some people," his words were heated, but his voice remained controlled, "but nevertheless, I would like to be free to apologize as I ought without need of any excuses."

Rather than let silence linger, Ashenby immediately turned his addresses to Anne. "Miss Ostenby, I have hardly been a gracious host. You are of course welcome to stay here to weather out the storm. If you would follow me, I will take you to my cousins, and they will make the necessary arrangements for your comfort. Ostenby, if you would be so good as to accompany us?"

The three quitted the room, Anne still clinging to the coat with her gaze directed at the floor. Conscious that they were staring, Denton turned away abruptly as the door shut, taking her from view. They were left with the Hardings in silence that neither brother seemed inclined to break.

"I had better go dress," Denton said finally, shivering in their vest. "I don't want to ruin the carpet."

 -----

Meanwhile, Anne found herself whisked away to the large rooms on the second floor and graciously delivered to Mary Ashenby's chamber. Unhappily, the lady was out, no doubt attending to her sister. Anne drew the coat tightly around herself, uncertain what to do until Miss Ashenby could be fetched. She didn't dare sit on any of the furniture. It was finer even than what she'd become accustomed to at home, and Mamma's decadent taste in antiques had gained her a reluctant familiarity with their delicacy and maintenance.

Ah, Mamma. If she could have but seen the state in which Anne arrived, it would have brought about a fit. To appear so before Lord James Ashenby, Earl of Chesterfield! Anne could hear the pitch of her mother's voice rising in her head.

However, she had to admit that turning around in the middle of a rainstorm and offering to ride double had been an ill-advised maneuver. She let out a groan as she leaned against the wall, sliding in a heap at the bottom. What could she have been thinking? In her head, it had not been so very bold, but rather all was simply logical: it was raining, Denton needed to cover no small distance, and Anne had a horse who could carry two riders. She and Nellie had ridden together around the yard just that morning, after Anne had finished giving a lesson to Marie. And yet, it was rather different when it was one's sisters.

But it would not have to be so! Offending him was regrettable, but the impulse that spurred her was born of friendly feeling and a desire to help her fellow creatures. Unfortunate that Mr. Denton should fail to understand her, and more still that he now thought the worst of her. Anne sighed heavily, but her spirits rallied. Perhaps it was all for the best. If acting unguardedly and refusing to curb her natural sentiments was so shocking to him, then it was best he was shocked early on. She had vowed to soften herself for no one. She could not start now simply because she happened to like one man rather more than the rest.

Cutting short the torrent of Anne's thoughts, the door swung open and Miss Ashenby sailed into the room. Despite her best attempt to hide it, shock showed plainly on her face. "Miss Ostenby!" she exclaimed. "They told me you had been caught in the rain, but I hadn't expected that you were left in such a state. Please, forgive the wait. I wish that you had not been forced to appear before the men so..." She bit her lip, curtailing the rest of that sentiment.

Anne rose from the floor, mustering what dignity she had left. "I will have to manage somehow. If nothing else, I believe I made a sight they will not soon forget." She spoke with more bravado than she felt.

Miss Ashenby turned away into her closet, though Anne hoped it was to hide a secret smile. The lady shortly reemerged with a green dress that looked far too ornate to be given to a guest.

Anne balked at the choice. "I will get by with something plain just as well, but I appreciate your kindness."

Miss Ashenby would not take the polite refusal. "It's likely you will have dinner with us. Consider it my thanks: my sister told me it was you and your brother who found her. She said you were very gracious."

Anne had been called many things, but she was not sure that she'd ever been referred to as gracious. She longed to press Miss Ashenby for answers as to how her sister could have ended up in such a predicament, and moreover, why - but she could not bear to cause any further distress. Aloud, she replied, "I'm glad we found her. Though Mr. Denton was nearby, and it's likely they would have encountered one another sooner or later."

Miss Ashenby shook her head. "She'd been walking since very early in the morning. It was prescient of you to offer her some water, or I'm sure she would have been in a far worse state."

"How is she now?" Anne inquired.

"She's very tired." Miss Ashenby played with the lace collar of the green dress as she laid it out. She spoke softly at first, as if talking to herself. "I wish she hadn't pushed herself so. She is still delicate, still recovering. Forgive me, Miss Ostenby, I don't mean to be cryptic. Last April she received some very bad news, and it was such a shock to her nerves."

"I'm sorry to hear of it," Anne replied, covering her surprise at being let into Miss Ashenby's confidences so easily. The lady had appeared so stoic. Then again, she had become friends with Charlotte, and perhaps she saw something of Charlotte in Anne. The thought was rather sweet, and Anne had no objections when it came to serving as a stand-in for a friend. She would discharge the duty as best she knew how, though admittedly she had few outside of her immediate family.

It would be advisable to wear the green dress to dinner, and to avoid spilling anything on it.