"Before Jack could say anything, he was bowled sideways by a small female moving with great velocity. "Jack! Jack, Jack, Jack!" His sister Lizzy flung herself at him, momentarily stunning him. Or maybe that was just the large wooden object she was holding banging into the side of his head. Jack gave his sister a quick, reflexive squeeze before turning to glare at his father. "You brought Lizzy?" "How could I miss the return of my favorite brother?" said Lizzy, smiling winningly at him, and Jack realized, dizzily, that she wasn't the little girl he remembered. The wild red-brown curls were the same, but the missing front teeth had grown in and the rest of her had grown up. He wasn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared for any of this. In his head, Lizzy was still perpetually six years old. She's rejected offers from three viscounts and the heir to a marquisate. Jane had told him, hadn't she? But Jack hadn't believed it. It had been a story about someone else, not his Lizzy. "Lizzy is in training," said his stepmother grandly. "For what?" demanded Jack. He noticed for the first time that the object in her hand appeared to be . . . "And why is she holding a crossbow?" "Because I'm too small for a longbow," said Lizzy patiently. "Don't look so alarmed. I haven't hit anyone by accident in months." "Hasn't hit anyone on purpose either," murmured Miles to Lady Henrietta. Lizzy narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that a challenge?" "No!" said everyone in unison."