A wry, half smile curved her lips. "To be perfectly honest, your grace, my aunt speaks of little else but the comings and goings of London's finest. I love her dearly, but after five minutes of such conversation, I fear I develop a bit of a deaf ear."

"I see. Tell me more about this, er, vision you had of William."

"I saw a young man wearing a military uniform. He was injured, but alive. I only know his name was William, and he was important to you." She turned troubled eyes to him. "You believe he is dead, but he is not. I'm sure of it."

"You make this outlandish claim, yet you offer no proof."

"No… at least not yet."

"Meaning?"

"If we spend some time together, I might be able to tell you more. My visions are erratic and usually nothing more than flashes, but they normally occur when I'm touching something, most often a person's hands."

He raised his brows. "So you're saying that if we sit about holding hands, you might be able to see something more."

Her eyes clouded at his sarcastic remark. "I understand your skepticism, and for that reason I normally do not reveal my premonitions."

"Yet you revealed this one."

"Yes. Because the last time I remained silent it cost me dearly." She frowned. "Are you not pleased to know your brother is alive?"

"What I know is that my brother is dead. And I won't have you mentioning this vision nonsense to anyone else, most especially my mother or sister. It would be unspeakably cruel to offer them hope where none exists. Do you understand?"

She gazed at him steadily for several heartbeats. There was no mistaking the steely menace in his tone. "I shall respect your wishes, your grace. As you know, my aunt and I will be your houseguests for the next several weeks. If you change your mind and would like me to try to help you, I will not be hard to find. I'm very tired and wish to retire now. Good night, your grace."