"The fur trade in Canada," said Contrecoeur. "I spent a number of years there."

Mademoiselle LeBrun's expression had not changed through all the table conversation, but she suddenly woke up from her daydream.

"Maman is in Russia." She had a very pretty smile in spite of a crooked front tooth, and it occurred to Elizabeth that she might not be so much bored with her company as simply shy and homesick.

"I have always been curious about Russia," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps you can join your mother there one day?"

"I will. Monsieur Contrecoeur is taking me with him to Russia to see her. The Russian court is very civilized," the girl offered, as if Elizabeth had expressed concern. "They all speak French."

Madame Vigée gestured to the footman for more wine. "We shall see about Russia, my dear. We shall see."

Nathaniel took her arm as they walked through the night garden in a hush punctuated by the soft trill of crickets and the rustle of Elizabeth's skirts along the path. Even in the cool dark the scent of the roses and phlox hung heavy in the air. Behind them, light still burned in the windows of the dining room.

"You let that woman get to you," Nathaniel said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "I thought any minute you'd start quoting your Mrs. Wollstonecraft at her."

Elizabeth was irritated still, but this made her smile. "I was tempted, I admit it."

"I wish you had," Nathaniel said. "I would have liked to see her face. Now, what do you suppose that visit's really about?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "Monsieur Dupuis."

"You haven't even laid eyes on the man, but he's on your mind a lot. Is there something you ain't told me?"

"Nothing concrete," Elizabeth said. "Just a vague feeling. Which I might have discounted, if it weren't for Carryck's defensiveness when I raised the subject."

"Maybe it ain't about Dupuis at all," Nathaniel said. "Maybe it was the visitors who put him in a sour mood. I got the idea that maybe the aunt is trying to marry the young one off to Carryck."

Elizabeth pulled up in surprise. Such matches were not unknown, and in fact Julie LeBrun was typical of those young girls of good --but impoverished--family who were often married to rich old men. Men with lands and titles, in need of an heir. It made some sense, and she wondered why it had not occurred to her.

"I guess not," said Nathaniel, seeing her expression.

"No," Elizabeth said. "There may be something to what you say, Nathaniel. But a French woman? And why wait so long, if he is hoping to father another heir? It has been a few years since his daughter ran away."

"Because he had high hopes for my father," Nathaniel said. "Or me, or Daniel."

Elizabeth did not like to think of it, but it was true: Daniel alone would serve the earl's purpose. The question was, just how desperate was he?

Nathaniel said, "Maybe it's finally getting through to him that we don't want to be here. Maybe he's still thinking of his wife. Or maybe he didn't want the trouble of a girl that young. A man that age--they say with some the urge just goes away."

"Not in his case," Elizabeth said. "There was a woman in his chambers a few nights ago. I saw her at the window."

"Is that so? Did you recognize her?"

"It was Mrs. Hope," Elizabeth said. "At first I thought I must be mistaken, but as I look back on it I am more and more sure. You do not seem surprised."

"I ain't, especially. She's a widow woman, and he's lost his wife. I wouldn't call it unusual if they take some comfort from one another now and then."

"Curiosity thinks that Jennet is the earl's daughter."

Nathaniel laughed. "What else have you two figured out between you when I wasn't listening?"

"I didn't say that I agreed with her, Nathaniel. It seems to me unlikely that the earl ..." She paused. "There is a great difference in their ages, and in their stations."

"You sound like your aunt Merriweather," Nathaniel said. "You know as well as anybody that the rules don't count for much when things start to happen between two like-minded people."

Elizabeth paused. "It is not so simple as you would make it. Those rules, as you call them, are still very much in place here, Nathaniel. If they are truly attached to each other, why have they not married? No, I will tell you. Because it would be a scandal of the first order for the earl to marry his housekeeper, no matter how well suited they may be."

"I don't doubt what you say, Boots. You know this world better than I do. But I'll tell you this much--if Mrs. Hope bore him a son, he'd marry her right quick. And I'd wager quite a lot on that."

The truth of this could not be denied. "You do not know she is at fault, Nathaniel. It might be--" She stopped.

"That he's infertile? With a daughter he claims as his own?"

Elizabeth broke off a sprig of lavender and brushed it against her cheek as she thought. "You are right, it is unlikely that the fault is entirely his. It does give Mademoiselle LeBrun's visit a new angle. It would speak to the earl's desperation. If it is so, I feel some sympathy for Mrs. Hope."

"And for the earl," Nathaniel added. "It's a high price to pay, turning the woman you love away because she cain't give you a son. I still don't understand what's at the bottom of all this, Boots. But I'll tell you this much. Tomorrow I'll get some straight answers, or we'll leave this place with or without my father."