a bright blue. A neatly trimmed Vandyke beard kept his even features from being too perfect.
When Kyria introduced him, McIntyre gave Sabrina a slow smile that lit his face, then he bowed gracefully over her hand and said, “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
His voice was rich and thick, like honey, with a faint slur that made it as lazy and warm as his smile. Sabrina imagined that a good number of women would not look past the charm to see the intelligence beneath. But Sabrina caught the shrewd expression in those vivid eyes, as wary as Megan’s had been, and she knew that he, too, was suspicious of her.
“Sit down and eat,” Kyria said, tugging Sabrina down into the seat beside her. “Alex, get the girl some breakfast.”
“I can do it,” Sabrina began, starting to rise.
“No, no, let Alex,” Kyria said lightly, placing a hand on her arm, and though she smiled, Sabrina wondered if Kyria, too, held some suspicions about her. “I’m so eager to chat with you, and Mother and Megan and I must be leaving soon.”
“You are going shopping?” Sabrina asked. Surely it was too early for making calls.
“Shopping?” Kyria laughed, exchanging a glance with Megan, who also seemed amused. “No. We’re going to a gathering in Downing Street.”
“Gathering?”
“Yes, it’s a little impromptu demonstration that we’ve been planning for days.” Kyria’s eyes twinkled.
“What are you demonstrating?”
“Our support for women’s suffrage,” the duchess declared. “We want to show the prime minister that we will not be put off. No matter how long it takes, we will continue to fight.”
“Mother is hoping we’ll get arrested.”
“Arrested?” Rafe turned to his wife with alarm. “You’re going to jail? Kyria... No. You can’t.”
“I can’t?” Kyria cocked an eyebrow at him.
He changed tactics, his voice turning to a wheedling tone. “Be reasonable, darling. I can’t let you rot in a cell. I’d have to break you out, and then I’d wind up there myself. What are our children going to do with two prisoners for parents?”
Kyria chuckled and patted his arm. “Don’t worry, they won’t arrest us.”
“The prime minister is terrified of the duchess,” Megan explained.
“Salisbury,” the duchess said, her mouth turning down in disgust. “That dreadful man. His beard is bigger than his brain. And his spirit is smaller than either.”
“You’ll never sway Salisbury,” Uncle Bellard told her, shaking his head. “He didn’t even want to give workingmen the vote.”
“No, of course not.” She sighed. “Still, one has to forge ahead. Someday we’ll manage to get their attention.”
“Don’t fret, Emmeline.” The duke smiled benignly at his wife and reached over to pat her hand. “I’m certain you’ll get arrested one of these days.”
The duchess laid her hand on his. “Thank you, dear.”
The conversation continued in the way Sabrina soon learned was the normal course in the Moreland household—the room was lively and noisy and filled with laughter, as there was talking across the table and down it, multiple conversations with the participants switching from one conversation to another and topics wandering all about.
At one point, Megan, across the table from Sabrina, leaned forward and said confidingly, “Yes, it’s always like this. You’ll get used to it after a while. The first few days I was here, I was surprised. It was more like my family’s mealtimes, not what I expected from the British aristocracy.”
“It’s quite...wonderful, I think.” Sabrina grinned. “I have the feeling, though, that it’s not what I’m accustomed to.”
“Still no glimmer of memory?”
“No.” Sabrina went on to tell her of her dream the night before, carefully expurgating what followed afterward with Alex. “So I wonder if I might have fallen.” She shrugged. “That seemed important information last night. Now I don’t know if that’s really any help.”
“It’s a new bit of knowledge—it’s bound to help. I promise, as soon as we’re done at the Women’s Franchise League, I’ll start making the rounds of my contacts.”
The meal wore down and the women left, with Rafe and Theo offering to escort them to their destination. Alex rose and turned to Sabrina. “Ready to investigate?”
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