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had breakfast in this very cottage with us and very gracious he was, too. But he hasn t
gone out of his way to endear himself with many others in the village. It doesn t do his
reputation good.
Anna frowned down at her half-eaten potato. I hadn t realized so many saw him in that
light. The tenants on his land adore him.
Mother Wren nodded. The tenants might. But he needs to be gracious to those higher up
in society as well.
I ll try to convince him to come to the soiree. Anna straightened her shoulders. But it
might be a job. As you say, he isn t very interested in social events.
Mother Wren smiled. In the meantime, we need to discuss what we ll wear to the
soiree.
I hadn t even thought of that. Anna frowned. All I have is my old green silk gown.
There simply isn t enough time to have the material I brought from London made into
dresses.
It is a shame, Mother Wren agreed. But your green gown is very becoming, my dear.
The lovely color brings roses to your cheeks and sets off your hair so well. Although, I
suppose the neckline is sadly out of date.
Maybe we could use some of the trimmings Mrs. Wren bought in London, Fanny said
shyly. She d been hovering nearby throughout the conversation.
What a good idea. Mother Wren beamed at her, making the girl flush. We had better
get started tonight.
Yes, indeed, but there is something I want to find before we begin on the dresses.
Anna pushed back her chair and crossed to the old kitchen cupboard. She knelt and
opened the bottom cabinet and peered in.
Whatever are you looking for, Anna? Mother Wren asked from behind her.
Anna backed out of the cabinet and sneezed before triumphantly holding up a dusty little
jar. My mother s salve for bruises and abrasions.
Mother Wren looked at the jar doubtfully. Your mother was a wonderful amateur
herbalist, my dear, and I ve been grateful for her salve many times in the past, but it does
have an unfortunate odor. Are you sure you need it?
Anna got up, briskly shaking out the dust in her skirts. Oh, it s not for me. It s for the
earl. He had an accident with his horse.
An accident with his horse? Her mother-in-law blinked. Did he fall off?
Oh, no. Lord Swartingham is much too good a horseman to fall off his horse, Anna
said. I m not sure what exactly happened. I don t think he wants to discuss it. But he has
the most terrible bruises on his face.
On his face . . . Mother Wren trailed off thoughtfully.
Yes, one of his eyes looks quite bruised, and his jaw is black and blue.
So you intend to put the salve on his face? Mother Wren covered her own nose as if in
sympathy.
Anna ignored her theatrics. It will help him heal faster.
I m sure you know best, Mother Wren replied, but she didn t look particularly
convinced.
THE NEXT MORNING, Anna ran her quarry to ground in the stable yard. Lord
Swartingham stood firing instructions at Mr. Hopple, who was noting them as best he
could in a little book. Jock lay nearby, but he got up to greet Anna when he saw her. The
earl noticed, stopped, and turned his black eyes on Anna. He smiled.
Mr. Hopple glanced up at the cessation of directions. Good morning, Mrs. Wren. He
looked back to Lord Swartingham. Shall I start on these, my lord?
Yes, yes, the earl replied impatiently.
The steward hurried away, looking relieved.
The earl sauntered over. Is there something you need? He kept walking until he stood
too close to her.
She could see the fine threads of silver in his hair. Yes, she said briskly. I need you to
hold still.
His beautiful ebony eyes widened. What?
I have some salve for your face. She produced the little jar from her basket and held it
up.
He eyed it dubiously.
It s my late mother s own recipe. She swore by its healing properties.
Anna took the lid off, and the earl jerked his head back at the pungent smell that rolled up.
Jock attempted to put his nose in the jar.
Lord Swartingham pulled the dog down by the scruff of his neck. Good God. It smells
like horse He caught her narrowed eye. Hide, he finished lamely.
Well, that s appropriate for the stable yard, don t you think? she replied tartly.
The earl looked worried. It doesn t actually have horse
Oh, no. Anna was shocked. It s composed of sheep fat and herbs and some other
things. I m not sure exactly what. I d have to look up my mother s recipe to tell you. But
there is definitely no horse uh, nothing objectionable in it. Now hold still.
He cocked an eyebrow at her tone but obediently stood motionless. She scooped out a
greasy glob with her finger, stretched on tiptoe, and began to smooth it over his
cheekbone. He was very tall, and she had to crowd rather close in order to reach his face.
Lord Swartingham was silent, breathing deeply as she spread the salve carefully up near
his black eye. She could feel him watching her. She took another dollop and began to rub
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