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He had no intention of embarrassing her by mentioning that he had heard enough of the discussion to know it had involved considerably more than a small family matter.

Lady Charnley gestured toward a chair, but James remained standing. His attention had already shifted to the young woman standing beside her.

She curtsied and said, "Your Grace."

At first glance, she appeared to be Olivia. The same dark, rich hair framed the same delicate face, and the resemblance was so striking that James almost wondered whether he had somehow misremembered the woman.

Then he looked more carefully.

Is that Olivia?

The woman beside Lady Charnley held herself differently. Olivia had possessed an alertness that had seemed to live beneath her skin, as though she were forever preparing to leap into action or say something outrageous. This woman stood with her hands neatly folded before her. Her posture composed and almost timid. Even her eyes were different. Olivia had looked at James directly, with an irreverence that had made him forget on several occasions that he was a duke. This young woman looked at him politely, almost cautiously, as though he were a stranger she had been instructed to fear.

James studied her for another moment. He had a lot of time thinking about Olivia, replaying their conversations and remembering the way she had cradled the abandoned baby. He knew her face now, but more importantly, he knew the way she moved. This woman might have been her reflection, but she was not Olivia. His confusion deepened.

He glanced toward Lady Charnley. "I have come to speak with Lady Olivia."

Lady Charnley blinked. "She is right here."

James looked at the woman again. She offered him a faint smile, but there was something almost desperate in it.

"Is she?" he asked mildly.

Lady Charnley seemed not to notice anything unusual. "If Olivia has somehow offended you at your ball, Your Grace, I assure you I shall discipline her appropriately."

James's eyebrows rose. "I do not recall requesting discipline."

"Of course not, but she is an impossible girl." Lady Charnley sighed heavily, as though Olivia were a particularly troublesome piece of furniture. "She has always been difficult. Her parents have indulged her far too much, and now she has become quite impossible."

James's expression hardened. He did not like the way the woman spoke about Olivia. He liked even less that the strange young lady beside her appeared to be shrinking into the chair.

Lady Charnley continued talking, apparently unaware that James's patience was thinning. "Of course, the matter will soon be settled. Olivia is to marry Lord Boulton, and I have told her repeatedly that she cannot continue behaving as though she has no responsibilities. Lord Boulton has been most generous to the family, and …"

The young woman suddenly moved one hand against the folds of her gown.

James's attention snapped toward her.

Her lips moved almost imperceptibly. "Library."

He stared at her. She did not look at him again.

Since entering the house, James felt genuinely unsettled. He had come prepared to speak with Olivia. He had even prepared himself for the possibility that she had laughed at the entire notion and gone off to marry someone else merely to spite him. He had not prepared for an identical woman sitting beside Lady Charnley and secretly directing him toward the library.

Lady Charnley was still speaking. "I am certain that once she is married, Olivia will understand the importance of behaving properly. Lord Boulton has been exceedingly patient, considering …"

"No. Lady Olivia is fine. I merely came because she had told me about a particular mantel in your library. I should like to see this mantel in the library," James interrupted.

Lady Charnley stopped.

"Of course, Your Grace," she said quickly. "I would be delighted to show you."

James held her gaze. "Alone."

The woman's smile faltered. For one brief moment, something flickered across her face that looked very much like fear.

James's instincts sharpened.

Lady Charnley hesitated before gesturing toward the door. "Certainly. It is down the corridor and third door on the right."