EPILOGUE

One year later

T he outside fork is for salad, Daisy informed her oldest half-sister.

Lettuce is for rabbits. If this is a dessert spoon, what do you use to eat rabbit stew? Pandora wasn t Daisy s twin, but close enough: the same blue eyes and silvery hair, but with a more elegant nose and a distinctly inelegant manner of speech.

Which made sense since she d grown up the beloved daughter of a carnival barker, albeit one whose tinctures were sold in the best stores throughout the kingdom. Miles had taken one look at Mr. Gale and pronounced him a swindler, but he had to admit that the man was a charming swindler, who adored his adopted daughter. For her part, Pandora was fiercely intelligent with a wry, firecracker wit that regularly had the household in fits of laughter.

Daisy glanced down at the shining place setting. Two silver forks to the left, two knives to the right, and a dessert spoon and fork above the plate. We never serve rabbit stew at a formal meal, she explained. Roast rabbit, perhaps. But not stew.

Pandora groaned. The meal sounds as much fun as being deserted on an island. No beer. No rabbit stew. No rye bread?

Never.

It s as if there s a conspiracy to ruin our figures, Pandora said indignantly, putting her hands on her hips.

Daisy frowned, since two months ago she d reached the point in her pregnancy when she had no figure.

Beer and rye bread! Pandora said, plumping up her breasts before her hands went back to her hips. Not to mention my arse. I have a fantastic arse. She took a hasty step back. Are you about to hurl again?

Perhaps. Daisy put her hand on her huge belly and waited it out. Finally, she took a deep breath. I thought I was done vomiting a few months ago. It doesn t feel fair to have started again this morning.

My father makes a tincture of ginger root, like ginger beer, Pandora suggested. It settles a woman s stomach.

On finding out that Mr. Gale sold cures for everything from hair loss to fevers, Miles had made Daisy swear never to swallow one of those potions under any circumstances. I ve been using your father s Essence of Pearl cream, Daisy said, dodging the subject.

Pandora frowned, looking vaguely alarmed. We have lovely skin. You shouldn t muddle it with that rubbish.

Your father gave it to me, Daisy protested.

You re so na ve. I don t know how you ever survived to your twenties.

You just told me to drink his ginger brew!

Some things are good, and others aren t, Pandora explained. We sell the pearl cream under three different names. He gave you the one for ladies, but it s just a mixture of wheat bran and vinegar. Costs nothing and sells for a lot. Throw it out.

Belying Daisy s fear that her eldest half-sister might have been shunted into a life of crime or hard labor, Pandora had been adopted as an infant and raised by her doting, extremely rich parents. She had been happy to meet Daisy but expressed absolutely no wish to be introduced to polite society-until her father and mother begged her.

Iffen it don t work out, you ll be home with us in a trice, Mr. Gale had pleaded. Did I get where I am by saying no to opportunity? What have I taught you, girl?

I don t like pretending that my father s dead, Pandora said now, pushing one of the knives slightly to the right so that it was in perfect alignment with its fellow.

Unfortunately, our father is dead, Daisy said. Lord Wharton had died two months after her wedding. Only his valet had cried during the funeral.

My real father, Pandora said moodily. I like being with you, but the rest of this foolishness? What s more, I don t want to get married.

Daisy eased into a seat, clutching her stomach as if that would stop it from turning upside down. Why not?

Most men I ve met are boring. Gentlemen don t seem much better, your husband excluded. In fact, they might be worse, because they re so spoiled.

You merely need to find the right one, Daisy said. Something odd was happening; Under her fingers her stomach hardened and then seized up. As she glanced down, she discovered to her horror that she had peed all over the Aubusson carpet.

Baby s coming, Pandora said cheerfully. Luckily for Hobbs, me dad has a cleaning solution for that. She pulled Daisy upright. Let s get you upstairs and call the midwife, shall we?

Daisy made it to the dining room door before she stopped and gave a little scream. Her entire body clenched as a wave of blinding pain swept up her legs.

Miles burst out of his study, his eyes wild. Is the baby coming?

Shoo, Pandora said, over her shoulder as she drew Daisy toward the stairs. A birthing chamber is no place for men.

Miles paid her no attention, which allowed Daisy to collapse into his arms when another contraction wrenched her body.

I thought they were supposed to be spaced apart! Daisy wailed.

Our hips are designed for this, Pandora observed. You ll get through it in half the time compared to a girl who s got the waist of a greyhound.

Daisy clutched her sister s arm. I m so glad you re here.

Pandora leaned over and kissed her cheek. So am I. Now you , she said to Miles, Make yourself useful. Carry Daisy to the bedchamber.

Before they could move, another wave of pain hit. A moan escaped her lips, and Miles s arms tightened around her.

Baby s going to be born in five minutes at this rate, Pandora remarked, turning to run up the stairs.

As soon as the contraction relaxed, Miles swept Daisy into his arms. Bundle of laundry again, she muttered, leaning her sweaty forehead against Miles s chest.

By the time they reached the bedchamber-having stopped halfway when another contraction hit-a canvas cloth and a sheet protected the mattress. Pandora was drying her hands on a clean piece of toweling.

Miles set Daisy onto her feet.

Wash your hands twice, Pandora ordered, pointing to a bar of soap, a basin, and a pail of water. Daisy, you first. Everyone needs to be clean.

Is that one of your father s concoctions? Miles demanded. It s gray. The soap is gray .

Soda ash. They ve started to use it while doing amputations to stop infections. Wash, Pandora said in a ferocious voice. I only found my sister a month ago, and I won t have her dying of childbirth fever. Nor the babe, either.

Daisy stumbled to the basin and washed her hands, followed by Miles. The midwife put up an argument, but gave in when Pandora threatened to toss her out the window.

Master Josias Devin, named after his paternal grandfather, came into the world with a howl of rage. He briefly calmed when he was put in his mother s arms, but resumed his screaming when he was taken away from her. He missed his comfy, snug bedchamber; he didn t like sunlight; he really didn t like being bathed by his Auntie Pandora.

When a tall man cuddled him against his broad chest and congratulated him on having such a fine set of lungs, Josias settled from howling to crying.

But it wasn t until a little face ringed with silvery blonde curls gave him a poke and said, No cwying! that he realized that the world had more to offer than glaring light and discomfort.

He lay quiet in his quilted crib, blinking up as his sister kissed him on his cheek. My baby, Belle said with satisfaction.

Daisy, lying back exhausted, managed a hazy smile.

They had located two siblings in addition to Pandora in the last year, both of whom had been happily adopted years ago, and neither of whom had any interest in joining polite society.

The Chelsea Orphanage had been brutally practical in their explanation: beautiful children were invariably adopted in the first month of their residence, just like the cutest puppies. One look at his wife s teary eyes led Miles to pledge more money than the orphanage had received since its founding-to be used to support the children left behind.

Belle had at least two more half-siblings living somewhere in England, so Miles had contracted more Bow Street Runners to look for them. The chances were fairly good that the children were growing up healthy and happy with couples who desperately wanted a child and couldn t have their own.

See how Josias is turning his head? Pandora said to Belle. He s looking for milk. Clever little chap, isn t he?

Milk, Belle said, looking around for her favorite mug.

He s too little to share yours, her father said, bringing the baby over to Daisy.

Pandora swung Belle up into her arms. Let s go find your milk, shall we?

Being a sensible lad, not to mention a future lord of the manor, Josias instantly realized that warm milk was nearly as good as having a big sister.

Miles sat down on the side of the bed and leaned in to kiss Daisy. He looked like a man shocked by the sweetness of his own life. Thank you, darling, he said huskily.

Daisy smiled up at him. Please lie down with us.

Now that Miles wasn t responsible for miscreants in the House of Lords, he laughed every day and smiled every hour. And now that Daisy knew in her bones how loved and treasured she was, she wasn t afraid of arguments.

They were easily reconciled in the bedchamber, if truth be told.

A half-hour later, Pandora stuck her head in the door. Belle is feeling lonely. After Miles nodded, she dropped the little girl on the bed and went to sit in the rocking chair next to the fireplace.

If there was an argument for marriage-and Pandora still wasn t entirely convinced-it was here in this room. Her eyes rested thoughtfully on her brother-in-law s face. He had tucked Belle protectively under his left arm like a baby bird, while his right arm held Daisy and Josias close to his side. His expression was so tender that it almost made her heart ache.

Almost.