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“Pray do not mention Rollo’s involvement to Mr. Hunt. I do not want word of this to spread. There are already too many people who dislike ravens.”

“Do not fret. I shall suggest that the damage must have either occurred during the fall or from a rat that came upon him whilst he lay helpless. Fortunately, the abrasions on Mr. Price’s countenance did not cause his death, and I see no reason for Mr. Hunt to insist upon an inquest.” He held me in an intent look. “How did your skirt get soiled?”

I hesitated, but due to Mr. Price’s demise, I had no further reason to withhold any information. “When I tried to prevent Mr. Price from taking Sarah, he pushed me away, and I fell to the ground.”

His eyes hardened into dark slits.

“But I am well, as you can see.” My words came out in a rush.

“He dared to put his hands on you!” He took me in his arms. “If you or the baby had been hurt—”

“We are both unharmed.” I stroked his back.

When we broke apart, he met my gaze and took hold of my hands. “Before Mr. Hunt leaves, I want him to examine you and ensure you did not suffer any ill effects from the assault.”

“But I…” The concern reflected in his irises stilled my tongue. “Yes, by all means.”

“Thank you.” He kissed my forehead and departed.

I returned to the sitting-room and stopped short near the threshold. Winston knelt before Sarah and his hand held hers. She caught sight of me and started.

Winston’s head whipped towards me, and he shot to his feet.

I pressed my lips together to conceal my mirth. “Pray forgive my interruption. By chance, if the two of you have an announcement to make, I am inclined to hear it.”

Sarah displayed a watery smile. “Yes, madam. I have accepted Mr. Winston’s marriage proposal.”

“That is wonderful!” I went to Winston with a springiness in my gait, offering him my hand. He took it, and a blush overspread his cheeks. “Many congratulations to you. I know my husband will be delighted to hear the news.”

His hand raised to his chest. “I appreciate that, madam.”

I turned to Sarah. “I could not be happier for you.”

“Thank you, madam.” Her mouth pressed flat for a moment. “Mr. Winston hopes we may wed within the next month. I wonder, though, if you will think it improper for me to remarry so soon after Mr. Price’s death.”

“Oh.” I tapped my lower lip as the various ramifications raced through my mind. The expected mourning time for the gentry would be a year, but their situation differed.

Winston’s lips curled into a frown. “The man deserves no such notice.”

“Given the unusual circumstances, I agree with Winston. The mourning customs are often overlooked for those who have compelling reasons to marry sooner. I shall see Mr. Hunt later. He is a judicious and discreet sort of man, and I shall prevail upon him that no one else need know of your connexion to Mr. Price.” I grinned at them. “Yes, there is no reason why you should not marry as soon as you like.”

“I am relieved that you agree with me, madam.” Winston turned his beaming countenance from me to Sarah.

My hand raised to my chest. The sight of them warmed my heart. “And now, I shall leave the two of you in privacy, for you must have a great deal to discuss.”

“Oh, but madam”—Sarah stood—“I must attend to my duties.”

“No, not at all. I insist that you refrain from any work until tomorrow.” With that, I quitted the room, leaving the happy couple to their own devices.

Saturday, 24 December

Darcy

When I entered the drawing-room, Bingley blanched, and his speech broke off mid-sentence. Hang it. I scrubbed my hand over my mouth and eradicated my scowl.

Georgiana rushed to me. “Has the baby come?”

“No.” I glanced at Bingley, who maintained a tense posture. “Elizabeth’s labour continues. When Mr. Hunt arrived, he ordered me to leave. I should have refused, but Elizabeth…” I averted my gaze. “She…um…encouraged me to go.” My wife had alluded to the possibility of undignified conduct that may have been forthcoming from her—as though I needed to be shielded from anything she might do. I gritted my teeth, sweat heating my back.