“I hope you do not mind the children being present, Mrs. Simpson,” the countess said after Lord Eden had made the introductions. “My husband has one eccentricity that I fully endorse. It is that when we are at home to tea, our children join us in the drawing room, even if the Queen of England is our guest.”

“Of course I do not mind,” Ellen said. “Oh, what a beautiful little girl you have. She is like you.” She glanced at the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of the countess. “May I hold her?”

Lady Amberley sat down beside her, smiling, while Ellen held the baby. Jennifer was chattering eagerly with Lady Madeline and the Earl of Amberley, who must have seemed far less threatening to her than his more splendid brother, though he was almost equally handsome. He also had a very kindly face and a quiet manner.

There was a special feeling about a baby-a softness, a living warmth-and a special smell, of powder and milk. Lady Caroline Raine regarded Ellen from wide, unblinking dark eyes. Ellen felt a little like crying.

“You are so very fortunate,” she said quietly, looking up at the countess.

“Yes.” Lady Amberley regarded her curiously before smiling and talking of other matters.

The half-hour of their visit seemed to fly by. Ellen liked Lord Eden’s family, all of whom had made an effort to be friendly, though Lady Madeline had spoken more with Jennifer than with herself. When Lord Eden rose to escort them back home again-though Ellen protested that he had no need to do so, as she was there to chaperone Jennifer-the Earl of Amberley also got to his feet and extended a hand to her.

“We would be honored if you and the captain and Miss Simpson would join us at the opera tomorrow evening, ma’am,” he said.

Ellen’s eyes met Lord Eden’s, and he grinned.