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She twisted to look at him.

His brow was furrowed, but he smoothed it as she watched. “If you don’t mind me sayin’ so, miss.”

“No, I don’t mind.” She smiled at him. “It’s rather sweet of you.”

“Thank you, miss.”

She turned back to the table and took a sip of tea. It was cooler now. “It’s just that even if they would see me, I don’t know if I could talk to the Misses Hopedale about this. When we converse, it’s usually about the weather and types of hats, which I don’t know that much about but seems to be a subject they enjoy. And once in a while we discuss which is better, lemon custard or chocolate pudding? It’s rather a leap to go from puddings to my brother attempting to murder a peer.”

“Yes, miss.” He left her side again to walk to the sideboard. “There’s a lovely herring here and some gammon.”

“But maybe that’s what London ladies always talk about.” She took her fork and prodded the bun on her plate. “I wouldn’t know. I’m from the Colonies, and there’s lots that we do different there.”

“Is there, miss?” Gil hesitated, then picked up the plate with the herring on it and came over to her.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Why, in the Colonies, a man’s birth isn’t nearly so important.”

“Is that so?” He placed a portion of the herring on her plate.

“Mmm.” She ate a bite of fish. “That’s not to say that people don’t judge other people. I think that happens everywhere. But it’s more a matter of what the man has accomplished in his life and if he has money. And you know, anyone can earn money if he works hard enough. I say, this herring is very good.”

“I’ll tell Cook you said so,” Gil said from behind her. “But any man, miss?”

“What?” She was rather enjoying the herring. Maybe all she’d needed was a proper breakfast.

“Can any man become successful in America?”

She paused and glanced over her shoulder. Gil’s expression was tense, as if her answer mattered greatly to him. “Yes, I think so. After all, my brother grew up in a one-room cabin. Did you know that?”

He shook his head.

“It’s true. And now he’s very respected in Boston. The ladies all want him at their parties, and many gentlemen consult him on business. Of course”—she turned back around to fork up a bite of fish—“he started out with Uncle Thomas’s importing business, but it was a very small company when Samuel inherited it. Now it’s quite the biggest in Boston, I believe, all due to Samuel’s hard work and quick wits. And I know many other gentlemen in Boston who had humble beginnings and have become very successful.”

“I see.”

“I’m not really used to people like the aristocrats here. People who are so bound by the past and expectations. For instance, I don’t understand why Lady Emeline has decided to marry Lord Vale.”

“They’re lords and ladies, miss. Stands to reason that they’d marry one of their own.”

“Yes, but what if they fall in love with someone who isn’t a lord or lady?” Rebecca scowled at her herring. “I mean, love isn’t something one can control, is it? That’s the wonder of it. That a person might fall in love with someone completely unexpected. Romeo and Juliet, for example.”

“Who, miss?”

“You know. Shakespeare.”

“Afraid I haven’t heard of them people.”

She twisted about to peer up at him. “Oh, that’s a pity; it’s a very good play up until the ending. You see, Romeo falls in love with Juliet, who is the daughter of his enemy, or rather, his family’s enemy.”

“Doesn’t sound very sharp of him,” Gil commented practically.

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? He didn’t have any choice in who he fell in love with, whether or not it was sharp of him.”

“Huh,” said the footman. He didn’t look particularly convinced about the overpowering nature of love. “So, then what happened?”

“Oh, there’s several duels and a secret marriage and then they die.”

His eyebrows shot up. “They die?”

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