Emma smiled wearily and raised a hand to place it over Milly's fingers. "You are right of course, dear Milly. You usually are in such matters. But sometimes when I look at Caroline I can only think of what happened to Beatrice and of how I failed to protect her. I promised myself that I would not fail her daughter."

"We have discussed this often enough in the past. I can only repeat what I have said countless times before. There was nothing you could have done to save Beatrice. And you most certainly have not failed Caroline. She is the intelligent, sensible, high-spirited woman she is today because of you. She is your daughter in every way that matters, Emma?

Emma squeezed Milly's fingers. "I did not raise her alone. You were there at every step along the way. She is as much your daughter as she is mine."

They watched the fire for a while. There was no need to talk. They had been together a long time. They could read each other's thoughts.

The response to the request for a séance came in a very speedy fashion the following morning.

Caroline was still at breakfast with Emma and Milly. All three of them were attired in their new dressing gowns. The fashion for wearing the comfortable, loose-fitting garments down to breakfast had arrived recently from France and was rapidly being adopted by women at every level of society. The ladies at 22 Corley Lane had been among the first to take up the style.

The gowns were modest enough but they were considered extremely daring because they were loose fitting. Critics raged against the trend, seeing it as a harbinger of yet another decline in morals. Some went so far as to warn that husbands would soon lose interest in their wives' charms if those charms were carelessly draped in loose-fitting garments every morning at breakfast.

Few women paid much attention to such ominous prognostications. Certainly no one in this household, where there was a noticeable lack of husbands, cared a jot for the critics' opinions, Caroline thought. Given the discomfort of the stiff, tightly laced corsets and bodices of modern dresses, not to mention the sheer weight of the heavy materials used in them, no female in her right mind was eager to don one any earlier in the day than necessary.

Caroline put down her fork and opened the message from Irene Toller.

"Ah-hah." She waved the note aloft in triumph. "I knew it would not take long to receive an appointment for a sitting. Did I not tell you that Mrs. Toller was eager for new business?"

Milly put down her teacup. "What does she say, dear?" Caroline read the note aloud.

Dear Mrs. Fordyce:

Regarding your request to experience a proper séance, I am delighted to inform you that I will be conducting one this very evening at nine o'clock. I have room for two additional sitters. You and your assistant are welcome to attend. I assure you that you will not be disappointed.

Yrs. very truly, I. Toller

P.S. My sitting fees are itemized below. Payment is due before the séance begins.

Emma put down her spoon very slowly. "Promise us that you will be careful tonight, Caroline. I am still quite apprehensive about this venture that you and Mr. Hardesty have undertaken."

"They will both be fine," Milly assured her cheerfully. "What can go wrong at a séance?" She turned back to Caroline. "Emma and I are engaged to attend the theater with Mrs. Hughes this evening. Afterward we will no doubt play cards until all hours. You will be sound asleep, I'm sure, by the time we get home. But tomorrow we will want to hear every single detail concerning Mrs. Toller's performance"

"Never fear," Caroline said. "I will take notes"

Emma frowned. "What was that business about your assistant? Is that how you identified Mr. Hardesty in your message to Mrs. Toller?"

"Yes." Caroline smiled, pleased with her creative solution to the problem of Adam. "I introduced myself as the author who has been making observations at Wintersett House and told her that I would be accompanied by my assistant. As you can see, she did not hesitate"

Milly raised her brows. "Does Mr. Hardesty know that you have described him as such?"

"Not yet," Caroline said. "I will explain it to him on the way to the séance this evening."

"Now that promises to be a most entertaining conversation," Milly said dryly. "A pity I will not be there to hear it."

Caroline reached for a slice of toast. "Why do you say that?"

"Something tells me that Adam Hardesty is not accustomed to taking orders from anyone."…

At eight-thirty that evening Adam followed Caroline into the carriage and took the seat across from her.

"You told Irene Toller that I was your what?"

"My assistant," she repeated calmly. "What else did you expect me to say? I did not think it wise to claim you as a distant relation for fear that we might stumble over some casual inquiry concerning our pasts and give ourselves away."

"Surely you could have come up with a more elevated position for me."

"I was afraid that any other explanation of your presence might convey the impression that you and I shared an acquaintance of an, uh, intimate nature." She smiled very brightly. "I certainly did not want to embarrass you with that sort of suggestion."

"I see." His initial reaction to the news that he had been assigned the lowly role of assistant to a writer of sensation novels had been mild exasperation tempered by wry amusement. Discovering that Caroline had gone out of her way to ensure that no one mistook him for her lover, however, had a decidedly lowering effect on his spirits.

Evidently she had not responded to that kiss in the carriage yesterday quite the same way he had. The moment of surprising passion had left him with an abiding restlessness and a sense of longing that had only grown more intense with the passing of time.

Tonight Caroline looked enchantingly mysterious in the soft golden glow of the carriage lamps, he thought. Her gown was composed of an amber-colored bodice and reddish-brown skirts. The hem of the dress pooled around her feet. A tiny confection of a hat was tilted at a provocative angle on her gleaming hair.

He suddenly wished that they were not on their way to a séance. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to be en route to some snug, secluded room where they could be alone with a warm fire and a comfortable bed.

"I'm sorry if you are offended by the role I assigned you, sir," she said briskly. "I thought it was a very clever notion" "It was certainly inventive," he allowed.

She frowned. "You did leave the matter of arranging the details of the séance to me, if you will recall."

"It seemed reasonable at the time. In hindsight, how-ever, I cannot help but wonder if it was a rather glaring error in judgment."

Her mouth twitched at the corners. "But surely you see that the position of assistant is the perfect cover for you. It will also ensure that you are not the object of gossip or rumor concerning your connection to me."

So she was amused by her little joke, was she?

"As I said, it was creative." He smiled coolly. "And I do appreciate your concern for my reputation. But as it hap-pens, it was unnecessary for you to worry about embarrassing me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It would not have caused me any loss of sleep at all if you had chosen to imply that ours was an intimate connection." Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.

"Oh," she said.

Satisfied that he had made her pay with a blush, he folded his arms. "What exactly does an assistant to a writer do?"

"I have no notion whatsoever," she admitted. "I've never had one before."

"Then I shall just have to make it up as I go along, won't I?"