Meredith walked slowly up the walkway leading to her modest house on Hadlow Street. While the area was far from the most fashionable in London, it was still respectable, and she loved her house with the fierce pride of someone who had worked hard for something she wanted. And more than anything Meredith had wanted a home. A real home. A respectable home.

Oh, she well knew she’d never be a member of Society, but her association with the ton, even though it was on the fringes, afforded her a measure of the respectability she’d craved her entire life.

Yet now her footsteps slowed to a snail’s pace. She dreaded opening the front door and having to tell the three people she loved most in the world that she’d failed. That the life, the facade she’d so carefully constructed stood in danger of collapsing like a house of cards. Was it possible that Albert, Charlotte, and Hope already knew? Gossip traveled so quickly-

The oak door swung open to reveal Albert Goddard’s expectant smile. Charlotte Carlyle stood behind him, her normally solemn gray eyes wide with anticipation. Charlotte’s daughter Hope peeked around her mother’s dark green skirt, and the instant she saw Meredith, the child raced toward her.

“Aunt Merrie!” Hope hugged her chubby little four-year-old arms around Meredith’s legs, and Meredith leaned down to press a kiss to the child’s shiny golden curls. “I missted you, Aunt Merrie,” Hope proclaimed, looking up, her gray eyes exact replicas of Charlotte’s, shining with pleasure.