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“You learned!” Miranda cried. “What could you learn that was worth the risk of your reputation?”

“What a pudding-heart you are, Mir,” said Viola. “If you will all stop looking so shocked, I’ll tell you, but come in. Cook has made a very nice tea with macaroons.”

Viola was the picture of sweetness and innocence, which meant, Cordelia was sure, that her sister had in fact done something outrageous. It couldn’t help to have them all at odds and blaming one another.

“Do, let’s go in,” Cordelia advised.

In the little parlor Viola helped them to tea and cakes. Roz fumed silently. Miranda crumbled a cake without eating any of it. Cordelia watched Viola. Her sister was pleased with herself.

“It was the luckiest thing,” Viola said. “I knew you and Miranda would take forever to get back, and I wanted to get straight to work on our gowns. So, when … they offered a ride, I couldn’t say no. I sat up front with the driver. He told me that the wagon comes from Higson & Sons in London, Engineers. They take down buildings.”

Roz and Mir gasped.

“So soon? I thought Graymont would wait,” Cordelia said.

Viola shot her a questioning look. “Did Graymont tell you his plans, Cordelia?”

Cordelia shook her head. She was angry. The bet was a way to distract her while he went ahead with his plans. He had no intention of letting them give their ball.

Viola leaned forward. “Well, what I learned is that Higson’s men have come to put scaffolding around the southeast tower and number all the stones.”

“Number the stones?” Miranda asked.

“So they can put the tower back together somewhere else. It’s what they do. He told me they’ve moved churches and bridges.”

Miranda looked confused. “Is Lord Graymont going to move the castle? I thought we wanted him to go away.”

Viola dropped her gaze to the plate of treats, but Cordelia caught a grin on her sister’s face. Viola popped a macaroon into her mouth. “We do, don’t we, Cordelia? Want Lord G to go away.”

“We do,” she said. And sooner rather than later.

*

The light of a long spring day was fading in the pale sky when Cordelia folded away Titania’s silvery costume. She had spent her afternoon and early evening hours working on the filmy garment in the hope that whatever Viola had done, and Cordelia was sure that her sister had done something, they would still have their ball.

As she laid the costume aside, a strong rap on the lodge door told her the wait was over. A trembling Alice announced Lord Graymont. Cordelia went to face him.

Graymont did not come in. He glared at her from the threshold in his shirt sleeves, the cuffs rolled up over his arms, no tie, his throat exposed, obviously interrupted. “Walk with me,” he snapped.

“I beg your pardon.”

“Do you want me to call off our wager?”

Cordelia stepped out onto the porch, instantly angry, and closed the door on Alice. “Can you do that as a gentleman? Or are you utterly indifferent to all good opinion of your character?”

“Think what you will of me. Do you want this ball of yours to happen?”

“I do.”

“Then walk with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the castle.” He turned and strode off into the fading light.

“Why?” She came down off the porch and hurried to catch up. In the woods, night creatures stirred and scuttled in the brush. An owl hooted, and a toad trilled out his courting song.

“Your scullery maid has interfered with my work.”