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'Worries which proved well-founded.'

'So they were,' Septimus replied easily. 'And we must be grateful that for whatever reason Mina broke the betrothal before it was too late.'

'For whatever reason'?... Call a spade a spade, Sep. The girl eloped with her lover. Though I daresay you forgive her that as well since she did it in a sufficiently melodramatic manner.'

'It is not for me to forgive her, Max. She did me no ill.'

'She did Peter a great ill. If she'd left Peter to marry the man her father had chosen for her, then Society would have smirked a little at his expense and moved on. But to elope with some unknown she must have been communicating with behind Peter's back... She not only broke his heart, she humiliated him.'

'Ah. Which is the greater sin?'

'I'm not playing your games, Sep. I'll take your point that Peter is no longer a boy, but losing Emily so suddenly last year has left him alone and vulnerable. Throwing Mina Davenport into that mix...'

'You exaggerate, my boy. Besides, I am hardly planning to take her down to Fairweather. She shall remain in London with Eliza and guide her through the treacherous shoals of London Society while I help her through the far less treacherous shoals of a London theatre.'

'This won't end well, Sep.'

'You think not? I rather think Eliza Serena will be the success of the season. Mark my words.'

'I'm not worried about your damned opera singer! I am—' A soft knock on the door interrupted Max.

'Ah, fresh coffee, I hope,' said Septimus with pleasure.

Max shoved to his feet and stalked out onto the private veranda that adjoined the state rooms. He was wasting his time. Septimus was a brilliant impresario, but he could be as blind as a bat about everything else.

It would be up to him to minimize the damage his uncle's latest whim might cause. That meant keeping Lady Wilhelmina Davenport as far away from the Cavendish family as possible.

He was damned if he was going through all that again.


CHAPTER TWO

'I'm dying! I want to go home!'

The groan was heartbreaking. And the retching that followed was stomach twisting.

Mina stood in the cabin door as Mrs Oakes, Eliza Serena's capable nurse companion, tutted around her charge. Two of the ship's maids hovered in readiness to provide new basins and towels, while they basked in the glory of serving New York's beloved new operatic star La Serena, even diminished as she was by sea sickness.

There was little for Mina to do at the moment, but she felt obliged to be in readiness for her new mistress. Actually, not obliged. It had been a while since she'd felt that sensation, but there it was—her readiness was not merely a matter of duty, but tinged with concern. Eliza Serena had that effect on people. If she hadn't looked and sounded so awful right then, Mina might have felt a twinge of envy. Eliza Serena was not only fabulously talented; she was also...nice.

Which made Mina worry all the more about Septimus Cavendish's plans to introduce the girl to London Society.

'How is she doing?'

Mina turned at the theatrical whisper behind her. She hadn't heard Septimus slip into the suite and she shooed him into the parlour. Eliza would definitely not appreciate having her agony witnessed by her impresario.

He went tamely, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his extravagant waistcoat. This one was covered in lyres and musical notes in shades of pink, silver and indigo. He noticed her inspection and grinned at her, patting the embroidered fabric lovingly. She smiled back without thinking, just as she had when she'd seen him approach her at the museum tea shop. It had been the first time she'd smiled, truly smiled, in a long while, and it had frightened her.

'She is rather miserable, I'm afraid,' she said briskly, forcing herself back to the moment.

'That's a pity. Poor lass,' he said, his voice low and sympathetic and Mina felt her eyes prick. Sometimes, in his less theatrical moments, he reminded her of Peter.

'If she can rest she'll probably feel better in a couple of days.'

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