“I am more amusing than you are clean.” She stood and moved to pour some water into a washbasin. “I think you should send him away. We’ll find another way to make money.”

“No. You were the one who started this sign business. The man is about the boldest sign I’ve ever had. I’m selling the marbles. He’s the answer.”

Isabel tossed the dress onto the bed and moved to wash.

Lord Nicholas St. John was their only hope, and she had been on the roof when he arrived, for heaven’s sake. Ladies did not go traipsing about on rooftops.

And certainly gentlemen did not frequent the homes of those ladies who did traipse about on rooftops.

It did not matter if the rooftop in question was in dire need of repair.

Or that the lady in question had no choice.

“It shall be a miracle if he has not discovered all of our secrets by now. Kate was out there, rubbing elbows with the man. I’m sure that he and his giant have already discovered that she is …” She trailed off, waving one hand in the air before splashing water on her face.

“Nonsense. If you have taught me one thing in my years here, it is that people see what they wish to see.” Lara watched as Isabel scrubbed at the dirt from her face. “What is important is that Lord Nicholas see a lady in you—which could be difficult at this point.”

Isabel paused in her ablutions. “How am I to convince him that he should stay?”

“Well, it is entirely possible that he found you fascinating.”

Isabel looked up at her cousin, water running down her face in rivulets. “No, it is entirely possible that he found me addlepated.”

“That is also a likely possibility, yes.”

“Lara! You are supposed to make me feel better about the situation.” Isabel reached for a long piece of linen and dried her face; mid-wipe, she lifted her head and turned horrified eyes on her cousin. “The girls. Their livery.”

“Jane is arranging everything.” Lara lifted the gray dress from the bed, tossing it over Isabel’s head. “You haven’t time for stays.”

Turning her back to allow her cousin to secure the fastenings of the dress, Isabel reached under her skirts to untie her breeches and slip them off. Throwing the wad of brown wool aside, she moved across the room to her dressing table, dragging Lara along with her.

Once there, Isabel unraveled her long hair, brushing at it violently, attempting to tame the curls that had escaped during her time outside.

When Lara finished with the dress, she took the brush from Isabel’s hand and began to restore her hair to its normal state. “You need a lady’s maid.”

“I do not. I could have dressed perfectly well without you. Just not as quickly.”

“Precisely why you need a lady’s maid,” Lara said. “You’ve a houseful of girls at your disposal, Isabel, why not select one to be your girl?”

Isabel shook her head as she watched Lara work in the mirror, “Nothing fancy—we haven’t the time.” After a short pause, she answered the question. “I cannot do it. As it is, they share in the running of the house. They cook, they clean, they help with James. They feel a part of something larger—a community—one most of them have never had before Minerva House. If one were to be my personal servant … that … well, it would not feel right.”

“That is utterly ridiculous. You’re daughter to an earl. No one would begrudge you a servant or two, Isabel.”

“I have servants. I simply don’t have a lady’s maid. And I do not need one. When was the last time I was rushing to meet a dashing gentleman?”

“Dashing, is he?”

Yes. Very.

“No. Not at all. He is a man who appears to have little understanding of both dates and invitations. He was not supposed to be here until tomorrow!” Isabel watched as her cousin shoved a pin into the tight mass of hair at the back of her head. “That’s fine. I cannot linger any more.” She stood, turning to her cousin and smoothing her skirts. “How do I look?”

“Quite staid. Not at all like a lady who was recently repairing the roof.”

Isabel took a deep breath. “Excellent.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Whatever do you mean? ”

Lara gave a little sigh. “You don’t have to sell the marbles. We can find another way.”

Isabel looked away for a moment as she took a deep breath. “We have no need for them. They serve no purpose here.”

“They serve no purpose anywhere. But they’re yours, Isabel.”

As though she needed reminding.

Isabel forced a smile, refusing to allow herself to think too carefully on her decision. “They are our last hope. They are the last hope of Minerva House. I am selling them.”

She squared her shoulders, and she was off, across the room and into the hallway, where James, Jane, and Gwen were waiting for her.

“Isabel!” James crowed, rushing toward her, “There was a man at the door!”

Isabel could not help the smile that tugged at one corner of her mouth at the surprise on the boy’s face. “Yes, I saw that.”

“He is very tall.” The observation tugged at Isabel’s heart. Of course James would have noted such a thing—men were a strange and uncommon occurrence at Minerva House. Of course the ten-year-old would have collected as much information about male visitors as quickly and voraciously as he could.

James needs a man.

Isabel pushed the thought aside.

“He is a very tall man, yes,” she agreed, ruffling her brother’s silky blond hair. “More than uncommon tall. As is his friend.”