The next morning, Horatia donned a morning dress of twilled French silk in a dark rosy pink and went down the main stairs. The house was quiet, which meant that Cedric and Audrey were still asleep. Her normally soft steps became tiptoes as she trod through the house. She passed by the drawing room, paused in puzzlement and retreated back a few feet to gaze discreetly through the open doorway.

In the far corner, Lucien was stretched out on his back, asleep on the daybed. Muff, ...