If her father was a raging storm—all howls, billows, and whipping wind—then Lady Helena Serrs-Comtess, the Baroness of Felder, was an ice storm that crept up the shore in silence and left the world white and bitter. She didn’t yell. She didn’t have to. If she was angry, her words could cut. Thankfully, she used them sparingly.

When Eleanor entered the sitting room, the baroness didn’t stand. All she did was hold up one thick scrap of parchment. Eleanor took it, even though she was fairly sure what it would be, and glanced at it.

It was an announcement.

“Well?” her aunt said. It was a mild slice.

“Yes, we know. Some of our friends mailed them to us this morning. Otherwise, we’re in the dark. Father’s already sent off the reporters—”

“The reporters? From the press?” Her aunt rolled her eyes. “Oh, gracious. What did he say to them?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I wasn’t here at the time.”

Lady Serrs-Comtess sniffed.

Eleanor regarded her aunt. She had an upright bearing and a thin body that, combined with her manner, made one think of an icicle. To enhance the effect, her eyes were a pale blue and her white-blond hair grew whiter as the years passed. In defiance of this snowy illusion, Lady Helena always wore black. She never bothered to change her ways after mourning for her husband. The contrast of white and black made her seem even more severe.

But Eleanor was used to her severity, as she was used to her father’s temper. In a strange way, she liked her aunt. The baroness often called Eleanor stupid, but each time she did, she never failed to point out the flaws in her niece’s logic. Having her arguments so quickly and brutally refuted made Eleanor feel stupid, but it also proved her aunt was listening.

The baroness was listening now. And she was angry. But Eleanor thought…maybe…maybe it wasn’t at her.

“Has your father done anything else?” Lady Serrs-Comtess asked. “Hopefully, something less idiotic than talking to that bunch of lying japes.”

“He did call the police. They sent over a chief inspector. Father’s talking to him now.”

Eleanor stopped herself from adding, “That’s why he couldn’t come to you.” Her aunt always saw through her efforts at peacekeeping and told her not to lie without good reason or talent.

“Eleanor, do you know anything about this?”

“On my honor, Aunt Helena, I know nothing.” The wave of aggrieved frustration was less powerful this time; Eleanor felt grateful that Haley’s questions had prepared her.

Ice blue eyes stared at her. Then her aunt blinked.

“I believe you, Eleanor. I won’t apologize because it needed to be asked. Young women can be unbelievably stupid at times. As an older woman, I know that well.”

Her aunt’s voice had lost its edge. Eleanor felt her body unwind.

“Sit down, child. I wish I could have stopped Erravold from acting in a temper, but I’d rather talk to you.”

Eleanor pulled a chair close to the armchair her aunt occupied.

“Let me start by saying I’d rather not have Ryce Penn as a nephew.”

This was announced with all the haughtiness such a declaration would warrant, but Aunt Helena observed Eleanor from the corner of her eye, to make sure her niece appreciated she wasn’t being serious.

When Eleanor smiled—really smiled—it was a gentle, quiet thing, much like herself. “Yes, Aunt Helena, and I’d rather not have a thief as a husband. There are politicians, should I get desperate.”

Her aunt shook her head with disapproval. “Eleanor, that snide little sense of humor of yours…”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Helena.”

“What about this policeman? What does he think?”

“He thinks it might be a prank, but he’s worried it might be one of Penn’s tricks.”

“Hmmmm. He sees the range. Maybe he won’t be worthless. Has anything else been done?”

“No. We only found out about it this morning.”

“That, at least, is a mercy.” Her aunt pulled at the layers of her skirts. “I’m afraid it’s too late to do anything about the press, and since Penn is involved, I think calling in the police was an unfortunate necessity. Well, Eleanor, what are you going to do about it?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You must have some opinion.”

After a thoughtful pause, Eleanor said, in a quiet voice, “I wonder if the best choice would have been to do nothing.”

“Explain.”

“We can’t help the fact those announcements were sent. Nor can we change how people will react to receiving them. If we try to answer it in any way, I can only imagine it will prolong the issue. Whereas, if we do nothing, there’s a good chance the joke will quickly run its course.”

Lady Helena Serrs-Comtess made a face. It was brief, but Eleanor was quick to notice other people’s reactions. The complex expression included a hint of sadness, some resignation, but mostly, irritation.

“That bit of reasoning is you, through and through, girl.”

“I’m sorry—”

“I didn’t say you were wrong. Have you told your father this?”

Eleanor pressed her lips together.

Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “I see. And what did he say?”

“He said a Serrs never lets an insult pass.”

“And that answer is him, through and through. He never lets an insult pass, and he thinks he’s the whole of us! Now a Serrs will never let an insult pass. The man has no dignity. Only pride.”

Eleanor watched her imperious aunt and tried not to smile.

Her aunt saw it. “Oh, you’ll be thinking something snide, no doubt.”

“I was only thinking that sometimes it’s hard to tell them apart.”

Her aunt made a humph sound. Then she held out her hand. Eleanor stood and helped her aunt to her feet.

“I’m staying, Eleanor. Erravold is the master of this house, and what he decides to do will be done—I can’t stop that. But he isn’t the master of me, and I won’t stand silently by. Someone should advocate for you—”

Eleanor’s heart faltered at the unexpected statement.

“—and since we lost poor Cilia, there’s no one but me to do it.”

“Aunt Helena…” Eleanor’s voice trailed away. Her mix of emotions made it difficult to know how to respond.

The second tempest was planning on becoming a fixture, but this storm seemed to want to take her side. Eleanor felt relieved by the idea that she wouldn’t have to take the buffets of her father’s anger alone.

There was no doubt her aunt would shield her.

There was no doubt it was going to get loud.

“Take me to your telephone, please,” Aunt Helena said. “I have some arrangements I need to make.”

Eleanor stood outside the library while her aunt used the phone. The baroness’s tone of command was a murmur by the time it reached her, but it must have sung along the wires. Eleanor tried to imagine her father’s reaction to this new development. Then she tried to figure out how she could arrange to not be there when he learned about it.

At the same time she heard her aunt replace the receiver, Eleanor saw the door to her father’s study open. The duke motioned for Chief Inspector Haley to go through first. Eleanor stood up from the wall she’d been leaning on and straightened her dress as they approached.

Her father scowled when he caught sight of her. “Eleanor? What are you doing here?”

“She was helping me,” Lady Serrs-Comtess said as she emerged from the library. Her eyes fell on the policeman at her brother’s side. “Introductions, Erravold,” she demanded.

“Helena, this is Detective Chief Inspector Haley. He was assigned to help us.”

Haley bowed. The baroness might have lowered her chin for a fraction of a second.

Aubrey-Serrs continued, “He’s something of an expert on Penn.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Chief Inspector. I like to think our concern is being taken seriously. After all, my niece’s reputation and good name are being lampooned, and I, for one, would like to know why.”

“I think that’s the first thing all of us want to know, Lady Serrs-Comtess,” Haley said.

“How do you intend to find out?”

“Right now there isn’t much to go on, so I’m afraid I’ll have to think on it.”

“Are you reluctant to use your brains, Chief Inspector?”

“Not at all. I mean that I’m afraid that’s all I can do.”

The color rose in her father’s cheeks. Eleanor could almost hear the rumbling of thunder. “All you can do is think?”

Helena raised her voice: “Good. I prefer it when men think before they act. This situation makes anything else impossible, but, really, it should be a law.” With that, the chief inspector was dismissed from her mind. “Erravold, I need to talk to you.”

“I was seeing Inspector Haley out.”

“Eleanor can do that. She knows where the front door is as well as you do.”

The duke opened his mouth, but before he could object, Eleanor rushed to say, “It’s this way.” She put a hand on Haley’s elbow. Together they turned and left.

They walked in silence back to the entryway. Taylor came out of the dining room and went over to the hatrack.

Eleanor said, “Thank you for coming, Mr.—Inspector Haley.”

“Mister is fine. Though, maybe not around your father.”

Eleanor glanced up. Once again, the policeman’s voice was serious, but she could see the humor in his eyes.

Taylor handed the officer his hat. Haley thanked him, put it on, and turned back to Eleanor as the butler faded away.

“Do you have any questions for me, Miss Serrs?”

“Do I have any questions?”

“You are at the center of this investigation.”

Eleanor hadn’t realized how numb her heart was until she felt a small part of it soften. She reached for the door, fumbling with the knob a little as she did. “Thank you”—there was a momentary agony over which title to use, then she settled on—“Inspector. I do have questions, but I think I already know the answers.”

“And they are?”

“A lot of ‘we don’t know.’”

Haley’s rueful smile lifted only one side of his mouth. “I think you’ve covered most of it.”

“Without any other answers—”

“There are other answers.”

“Such as?”

“Yes, I will do my best. I promise.”

For a moment, Eleanor was completely still, then Haley noticed a pink hue creep into her cheeks. She looked away.

“Do you get asked that a lot?” she asked.

“All the time.”

“I hope you’re not offended by people’s lack of confidence.”

But by now the officer was wise to her; she was amusing herself again. He smiled. “Not at all. Everyone needs assurance now and then.”

Without raising her eyes, she nodded. “Thank you. For the assurance.”

Haley touched his hat. “Good morning, Miss Serrs.”

She opened the door and shut it after he left.

Eleanor stayed by the door, listening to the muffled sounds of the outside world and enjoying the peace. The clutter of the entryway kept her hidden. She allowed her eyes to rove over the well-known objects: the elegant bench, the mirror and rack, the battered umbrella stand, and the thin table her father had custom ordered so he could drop whatever he was holding the moment he came in the door. Then her gaze stopped on a familiar figure outside the entryway.

Taylor was haunting the dining room’s doorway. They were alone now, so he was looking at her with a fond expression. When their eyes met, he shook his ancient head.

“Yes, Taylor?”

“You are a lady, Lady Eleanor.”

“You have to remind me?”

“That policeman neglected to use your proper title, and you didn’t correct him. I assumed you’d forgotten.”

Eleanor walked up to him. With wide eyes, she said, “You won’t tell my father, will you?”

Taylor looked away, clicked his tongue, and let out an ugh.

“Please?”

“You’d make me complicit in this gross offense?”

She smiled at him.

“Like always,” he grumbled. “As you wish, Your Ladyship.”

The butler watched her walk back toward the hall and smiled. He had hoped her humility would follow her through the years. As she grew up, he’d done everything he could to foster the girl’s natural kindness—a quiet word here and there, a sympathetic explanation offered when the young girl was confused. People were people, and they all had feelings. He’d wanted her to know that. And here was the result.

If only he’d emphasized a little more propriety.

Eleanor found her father back in his study. There was a decanter in his hand and a glass on his desk.

“Eleanor,” he said when he caught sight of her. “Your aunt.” He poured himself a large measure of drink and took a swallow before finishing his thought. “Your aunt is going to be staying with us for a while. She wanted to be here for us during this…this…debacle.” He must have been exhausted by the struggle to find the right word; he lifted his glass and drank again. “But her town house is under renovations.”

Eleanor thought back to the several phone calls her aunt had made and wondered if any of them were to a contractor.

“That’s kind of her,” she said.

The duke strung together a few derisive syllables that Eleanor couldn’t make out. Then he tobbled himself and what was left of his drink over to the window.

Eleanor shut the door behind herself as she left.