'No, I think this is a room suitable for a young lady an earl is about to propose to,' Rowan said, provoking a little gasp from Penny. She put away the last of her friend's meagre store of silk stockings and turned to lift the lawn petticoats out of the valise. 'I did not see his lordship, but I have seen his valet, the impertinent wretch. He winked at me.'

That at least made Penny smile. 'Well, you do look very pretty. That severe hairstyle suits you. Let me help you with those; you shouldn't wait on me.' She reached for an unopened valise, but Rowan gave her a little push towards the chair.

'No, you must act the lady and forget who I really am. If anyone observes any undue familiarity-' There was a tap and the door opened. 'Ah, the tea-put it there, please.' Rowan gestured to the table beside Penny's chair and waited until the maid left with a bobbed curtsey. 'You see-you never know when they are going to pop up. Mind you, they gave me a very odd look when I asked for two cups.' She poured, handed Penny her tea, and sank down on the padded fender. 'Bliss.'

Penny was still looking miserable, even after two cups of tea. 'Lie down and rest,' Rowan ordered, 'and I'll shake out your evening things and put away your day clothes.'

By the time Penny was undressed and tucked up in bed, the simpler of the two evening dresses unpacked and hung up and the rest of the accessories laid out, Rowan was beginning to feel considerable sympathy for her own dresser, the unflappable Alice Loveday. She was used to finding everything to her hand, just when she needed it, but trying to recall exactly what Penny would need required more effort.

Done at last, she glanced at the clock-more than enough time to put away the day clothes and go to her own room and organise her modest wardrobe, before changing and coming down again to organise Penny's evening toilette.