"My lady?" Christiana remained curled on her side in her cocoon of blankets. She merely opened one eye to peer at the older woman bent over her. Grace, her maid. "Hmm? " "Your sisters are here." Those four words and the urgency behind them brought her other eye open at once. "What? My sisters in London?" Christiana rol ed over, thrusting the blankets and linens away to sit up. "And here at this hour? There must be some sort of emergency for them to be cal ing so early." "That was my thought when I saw them getting out of the carriage," Grace admitted as Christiana got out of bed. "So I hurried up here to fetch you. If you're quick we can have you dressed and downstairs before your husband sends them away." "Dicky wouldn't send them away," Christiana said with surprise, and then tacked on an uncertain, "Would he?" "He's done so with others." "Who?" Her horror and surprise came muffled from inside the cloth of her nightdress as the maid dragged it off over her head. "Lady Beckett, Lady Gower, Lord Ol ivet and Lord Langley . . . twice." Grace turned away to trade the nightdress for a pale blue gown that matched Christiana's eyes. As she began to help her don it, she added, "And I can tel you