"Good morning, madam." Clarissa nodded toward her charge. "Make your curtsy to your new mother, Meredith."

Meredith obediently got to her feet to greet Augusta. Her somber gaze held a hint of wariness and not a little uncertainty.

"Good morning, madam."

"Meredith," Clarissa said sharply. "You know his lordship specifically instructed you to call her ladyship Mama."

"Yes, Aunt Clarissa. But I cannot do that. She is not my mama."

Augusta winced and waved Clarissa Fleming to silence. "I thought we agreed you could call me whatever you like, Meredith. You may call me Augusta, if you wish. You do not need to call me Mama."

"Papa says I must."

"Yes, well, your father can be a bit autocratic at times."

Clarissa's eyes sparkled in disapproval. "Really, madam."

"What does autocratic mean?" Meredith asked, genuinely curious.

"It means your father is rather overfond of giving orders," Augusta explained.

Clarissa's expression turned from disapproval to one of outrage in the blink of an eye. "Madam, I cannot allow you to criticize his lordship in front of his daughter."

"I would not dream of doing so. I was simply noting an undeniable aspect of his lordship's character. I doubt he would deny it himself, were he present." Augusta twirled her beribboned bonnet and started ambling around the room.

"Describe your curriculum to me, if you will, please, Meredith."

"Mathematics, classical studies, natural philosophy, and the use of globes in the morning," Meredith said politely. "French, Italian, and history in the afternoons."

Augusta nodded. "Certainly a well-rounded selection of studies for a nine-year-old girl. Did your father design it for you?"

"Yes, madam."

"His lordship takes a great personal interest in his daughter's curriculum," Clarissa said darkly. "He would most likely not welcome any criticism of it."

"Most likely not." Augusta paused in front of a familiar-looking volume. "Ah-hah. What have we here?"

"Lady Prudence Ballinger's Instructions on Behavior and Deportment for Young Ladies," Clarissa said in forbidding tones. "Your esteemed aunt's highly instructional work is one of Meredith's favorite books, is it not, Meredith?"

"Yes, Aunt Clarissa." Meredith, however, did not look overly enthusiastic about the book.

"Personally, I found it a deadly bore," Augusta said.

"Madam," Clarissa said in a strangled voice. "I must ask that you refrain from giving my charge the wrong impression."

"Nonsense. I am sure any girl with spirit would find my aunt's books exceedingly dull. All those depressing rules on how to drink one's tea and eat one's cake. And all that nonsense about appropriate conversational topics to be memorized. You must have something more interesting around here to study. What are these?" Augusta examined another set of heavy, leather-bound tomes.

"Books of ancient Greek and Roman history," Clarissa said, looking as though she were prepared to defend their presence in the schoolroom with her last breath.

"Of course. I should have expected a sizable collection of such materials, given Graystone's personal interests, hmm? And this.little book?" She held up another dull-looking volume.

"Mangnall's Historical and Miscellaneous Questions for the Use of Young People, of course," Clarissa responded tartly. "I am certain even you will agree it is most appropriate to the schoolroom, madam. You were doubtless instructed with it yourself. Meredith can recite the answers to a great many of the questions in that book already."

"I am sure she can." Augusta smiled at Meredith. "I, on the other hand, can barely remember any of the answers, except possibly the one about where nutmeg grows. But then, I have been told I have a rather frivolous turn of mind."

"Surely not, madam," Clarissa said tightly. "His lordship would never have—" she broke off, flushing a dull red.

"His lordship would never have married a frivolous sort of female?" Augusta gave the older woman a bright, inquiring glance. "Is that what you were about to say, Miss Fleming?"

"I was not going to say any such thing. I would never dream of commenting on his lordship's personal affairs."

"Do not concern yourself with such niceties. I comment on his personal affairs all the time. And I can assure you, I am decidedly frivolous and irresponsible on occasion. As it happens, this morning is one of those occasions. I have come to collect Meredith and take her out with me on a picnic."

Meredith stared at her in astonishment. "A picnic?"

"Would you like that?" Augusta smiled at her.

Clarissa clutched a quill so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I fear that is quite impossible, madam. His lordship is most strict about Meredith's studies. They are not to be interrupted for any frivolous reasons."

Augusta arched her brows with gentle rebuke. "I beg your pardon, Miss Fleming. As it happens, I am in need of a guide to show me around the grounds of the estate. His lordship is locked in the library with his steward, so I have decided to ask Meredith if she will act in his stead. As we will be gone for some time, I have naturally requested that cook prepare us a picnic lunch."

Clarissa looked dubious and resentful, but she was obviously well aware there was not much she could do without the earl to back her up. And the earl, Augusta had been quick to point out, was unavailable.

"Very well, madam." Clarissa drew herself up stiffly. "Meredith may go with you to act as your guide this morning. But in future, I shall expect the routine of the schoolroom to be respected." Her eyes glittered with warning. "And I am certain his lordship will support me on this matter."

"No doubt," Augusta murmured. She looked at Meredith, whose expression was as unreadable as her father's could be on occasion. "Shall we go, Meredith?"

"Yes, madam. I mean, Augusta."

"Your home is very lovely, Meredith."

"Yes, I know." Meredith walked sedately down the lane beside Augusta. She was wearing a very plain, close bonnet that matched her equally plain dress.

It was difficult to tell what thoughts were going through her mind. Meredith had obviously inherited Harry's ability to keep his expression unreadable.

Thus far the child had been polite, but far from chatty. Augusta was counting on the pleasantly crisp day and the exercise to encourage conversation. If all else failed, she supposed she could always ask Meredith to recite the answers to Mangnall's Historical and Miscellaneous Questions for the Use of Young People.

"I used to live in a nice house in Northumberland," Augusta said, swinging the picnic basket she was carrying.

"What happened to it?"

"It was sold after my parents died."

Meredith slanted Augusta a startled, sidelong glance. "Your mama and papa are both dead?"

"Yes. I lost them when I was eighteen. I miss them very much sometimes."

"I miss Papa very much when he goes away for weeks and weeks at a time like he did during the war. I am glad he is home now."

"Yes, I imagine you are."

"I hope he stays home."

"I am certain he will for the most part. I believe your father prefers the country."

"When he went off to London at the beginning of The Season to find a wife, he said it was a necessity."

"Rather like taking a purge, I should imagine."

Meredith nodded soberly. "No doubt. Aunt Clarissa told me he had to find a wife so that he could get an heir."

"Your father is a man who is very conscious of his duty."

"Aunt Clarissa said he would find a paragon of a female who would follow in my mother's illustrious footsteps."

Augusta stifled a groan. "A difficult task. I saw the portrait of your mother in the picture gallery last night. She was, as you said, very beautiful."