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of the children,” Lord Amberley said in the quiet tones that had always quelled the twins’ frequent differences of opinion.
    The countess spoke almost simultaneously. “Captain Simpson must be very glad to have his daughter safely here,” she said. “And how reassuring it must have been for the girl to have an older woman with whom to travel.”
    Lord Eden laughed. “I don’t think Mrs. Simpson is any older than Mad and I, Alexandra,” he said. “She must have been little more than a girl when Charlie married her five years ago. I am glad to see her home again. I will be taking tea there tomorrow, by the way. And I have told her that I want to present her to you and Mad. I hope you will not mind.”
    â€œOf course not,” the countess said. “I will be delighted to meet the captain’s wife. I like him, Dominic.”
    â€œI take it I am to learn from her how to be docile,” Madeline said, “and how to accept male stupidity. I heartily dislike her already, Dom. She must be totally lacking in spirit.”
    Lord Eden raised his eyebrows. “If you had seen her in Spain,” he said, “living in a tent, tramping through mud, fording swollen rivers on horseback, saying good-bye to Charlie every day, never knowing if she would see him again, you would not say anything so foolish, Mad.”
    â€œThe children will be back in the nursery after tea,” the earl said with quiet authority. “The two of you may go at it then, if you wish. You may even come to blows. Alex and I will be obliging enough to remove ourselves beyond earshot. But for now you will be civil. And I see the tea tray has arrived.”
    â€œWith bread and jam included for Christopher,” the countess said. “If I were you, Dominic, I should make a quick trip upstairs to change out of your uniform. I believe my son still has his heart set on feeding you.”
    â€œDo you, old pal?” Lord Eden asked, grinning down at his nephew. “Here you go, then, to Papa while I go and dress appropriately.”
    Madeline set the baby in the countess’s arms. “I’ll pour,” she said, seating herself behind the teapot. “Edmund, is there really going to be a battle? It is not just a show of strength to discourage Bonaparte? There is really going to be fighting?”
    â€œIt is hard to say with any certainty,” her brother said gently. “We will just have to wait and hope, dear. And trust the Duke of Wellington, of course.”
    â€œOh,” she said, putting down the teapot with only one cup poured, “how childish of me to ask you such a question, Edmund. Of course there will be another battle. You know it and I know it. One more battle for Dom.”
    â€œHe has escaped well so far,” the countess said. “Flesh wounds only.”
    â€œIf he dies,” Madeline said, jumping to her feet, “I shall die too. I can’t live without Dom, Edmund, I can’t live without him.”
    Lord Amberley rose hastily to his feet and crossed the room to take her into his arms. “In all probability you will not be asked to,” he said. “But we both know—and Alex too—why we came out here this spring when we would far prefer to be in London for the Season or at home in Amberley. We came to be with Dominic. We must make the best of the time we have with him, Madeline. It is always so with loved ones. Any of us could die at any moment. We must be sure to enjoy one another’s love while we have it.”
    â€œSometimes I hate you, Edmund,” she said, putting her arms up around his neck and her cheek against his. “You can be so damnably wise. Now, where is that teapot?”
    She was pouring tea with a determinedly steady hand when her twin returned to the drawing room.
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    E LLEN SANK DOWN onto the sofa beside her husband and snuggled her head against his shoulder as his arm came around her. She had