Twelve. There were twelve doors to twelve identical, graceful townhouses. They marched down the east side of Brook Square from Rose Street to Conwy Road. Alethea Fox, daily governess to the Hartwick children, counted them down each morning after she arrived at the corner of Rose Street.

Eleven, Ten. Alethea was weary this morning. She had studied until her candle guttered the previous night. She had two students every morning, four in the afternoon, and one advanced pupil in Greek at 7:00 each evening. She had to study and plan carefully to keep ahead of all her students. Still, she was grateful to have them. She was doing very well, as she repeatedly told herself. Her expenses were well met by her wages, and she could even put a guinea by, as security, from time to time.

Nine, Eight. The houses in this graceful square were so very different from the two small rooms she leased on the edge of Mayfair in an unfashionable street. This square held some of the leading families of the ton. She stared incuriously as a carriage passed. It carried a lady she recognized and the lady's three daughters, no doubt to some delightful Venetian breakfast or music party. Alethea knew a great deal about the inhabitants of Brook Square. Certainly she knew more of them than they did of the daily governess, in her grey gown, grey spencer, and dark blue cloak.

Seven, Six. Still she could not envy them. One's station on birth was no more than luck…a bizarre lottery it seemed. She was fortunate to have been educated, to be able to earn her bread in such an unobjectionable manner. Teaching children was a noble occupation, one that challenged and satisfied. She told herself so, frequently.

Four, Three. Not that the future wife of Viscount Myddelton would ever have need of a satisfactory occupation. Lord Myddelton's mother lived in the second house from the end of the east side of Brooke Square, next door to Alethea's employer. The Viscount's mother, Lady Paulton, seemed a delightful lady. She was plump and pleasant, with ever a kind word for her neighbour's daily governess. Lord Myddelton lived in Grosvenor Square, her employer had informed Alethea, in the family home. His mother had recently left it to set up her own establishment in Brook Square 'so that the Viscount might give thought to his future establishment'.

Two. She turned at the appropriate paving square…there were only two strides to the two stairs that led to her employer's front door. Because Lady Paulton lived next door, Alethea encountered Viscount Myddelton from time to time. He was satisfactorily tall, handsome and well-mannered. He never neglected to speak to Alethea, sometimes no more than a pleasant good day, occasionally a brief conversation on the weather. Once she had dropped one of her books, Mangall's Questions and Answers, and he had returned it to her with a courtly bow and a wonderful smile. He seemed often to visit his mother and very often at the time Alethea was on her way to the first classes of her day. It occurred to her now that she had foolishly been standing on the top step of number two for quite five minutes. She shook herself from her daydreams and lifted her hand to the knocker.

To her astonishment the door gave way under her grey-gloved hand. She stared at the polished oak, and then ventured to poke it with a slender index finger. It swung open. She took one hesitant step, then another into the entry. The black and white marble flooring shone, and she noted that her employer had changed the central table, and the vase that decorated it. Flowers now occupied pride of place, and very lovely they were too. One then two more steps. The mirror on the wall had been changed also. Alethea stared about her. Good gracious, she had entered the wrong house! Good heavens, wool gathering charged a severe penalty! Good god, what was she to do now?

One step, then two backwards. And a third. Why had the door been unlatched? Was there trouble? Of a sudden she could hear someone weeping…which house was she in? Another step backward…she bumped into the door and it squeaked protestingly.

"Who is there?" a voice sounded from the second door on the left of the entry. "Who is it? Noel, is that you?" Alethea recognized the voice. It was Lady Paulton. She turned to run, then stopped. The lady had always been kind. Now she was in some trouble; Alethea might be of assistance.
And Viscount Myddelton's name was Noel.

Lady Paulton appeared in the doorway upon which Alethea's gaze was fixed. Her cap was askew, and tear stains marked her plump cheeks.

"Miss Fox!"

"Lady Paulton, I do apologize. I entered in error; the door was open. I heard you weep. I thought I could be of some assistance."

"Oh, my dear, do come in. This is so timely. I am sorely afflicted. I have just had word from Paulton Place that my husband has had a fall on the hunting field. It is not thought that he will survive!"

Alethea felt the colour drain from her own face. "How terrible! And the servants? Shall you be leaving post-haste? How may I help?"

"The footman has gone for Noel…my son. The butler is summoning the coach. My maid is packing for me." The lady's tears were dry now.

Alethea could see a bright intelligence at work behind the round blue eyes. "Then I shall offer my sympathies and my apologies for intruding. My students await me, I'm sure."

Lady Paulton's small hand shot out and fastened on Alethea's slim arm. "Stay, my dear. You may be of assistance."

"I should advise my employer…"

"You have no need of her, Miss Fox. I have a proposition for you."

Alethea found herself drawn in a morning room. The door was firmly shut on the entry hall.

"Miss Fox, my husband is an unpleasant man. I was not weeping his injury. I will not mourn his death. Yes, you will think me hard I know."

Alethea could not keep the astonishment from her face.

"Please hear me out, Miss Fox. My husband has been behaving irrationally for sometime. He was always difficult, sometimes cruel, but lately his actions make no sense whatever. He has disinherited my son from all his inheritance, all that is unentailed. Noel will have his title, and Paulton Place and nothing else; no means to support the house, the estate or anything else."

"An injustice surely," Alethea managed to say.

Lady Paulton was continuing apace. "It is all gone unless Noel is married before my husband's demise. Well, we thought, we hoped, that Noel might have found his heart's mate before Paulton's death and all would be well. But now Paulton's demise is imminent and Noel is unmarried."

"Good gracious!" was the only statement that came to Alethea's mind.

"But you, you could help us, my dear. Noel has spoken of you, and I know all about you from my neighbour, your employer…such a charming gossip. You could marry Noel, with a special license, here, now. There could be some arrangement made later. Noel would have his rightful inheritance and you would have a settlement that would make you independent."

"Mother! That is the most outrageous suggestion I have ever heard you make. In a lifetime of impulsive statements that tops them all."

Both ladies turned to see Viscount Myddelton on the threshold. His handsome face was drawn in a frown. It was clear that he had hurried to his mother's home. His neckcloth was awry and a lock of hair tumbled to his forehead from hastily ordered waves.

"Miss Fox, I do apologize for my mother. She is overset by our news, which it seems she has imparted to you."

Alethea found herself tongue-tied.

"I beg you will keep this information confidential. I will of course stand by my father's wishes. His irrationality shall not lead my mother and I to foolish behaviour as well."

Alethea found her voice. "Oh yes. Yes of course." How to tell him that she would be overjoyed to be of assistance to him. That such a marriage would not be abhorrent to her. That if she could only show him how much she esteemed him, he would not regret the impulsive gesture.

One step, two three four five more to the doorway. She stood before him. He did not move. She met his blue eyes, so like his mother's, with her heart in hers.

He made to speak then paused, arrested. His gaze met and mingled with hers. Was it her imagination or did their spirits speak then?

"Miss Fox…wait." He cleared his throat of some obstruction. "It has not been coincidence that has led to our many encounters these past three months. I…I found you more appealing than any of the ladies in attendance at Almack's…"

Their gazes still clung, and he touched her arm, her hand hesitantly. They took one step and then another, in unison, away from the door. Their fingers entwined.

"Her grandfather was General Aylesbury. She has two brothers, one in Holy Orders, one at Oxford. We can have a special license in an hour, you can be wed in two." Lady Paulton was slipping from the room. "I shall leave for the Place after that. We can say we kept the attachment secret for good reason…" Her voice trailed in to the distance.

"Don't do this unless you truly wish for it. I…I know all about you. Your employer and Mother have gossiped abominably with a little urging." He was apologetic but unregretful.

"I truly wish it. I too have been the recipient of my employer's gossip." Her eyes sparkled suddenly, then dimmed. "I am no brilliant match for you."

"I had many opportunities to make a brilliant match. I wish only to make a match with my heart," he replied, drawing her in to his arms.

Lady Paulton popped back into the chamber. "Come along, you two. Time enough for that later!"