carriage pull away from the curb.
“She did seem quite defeated.” Her husband placed his hand on the small of her back. “Not that she wasn’t strenuously trying to convince us of the opposite.”
“I hope the dinner tonight won’t be too taxing for her.” She wrapped her arm around his middle. “And thank you, darling, for offering your place in the Highlands for their honeymoon.”
“They can have legendary rows there without anyone knowing,” said Lexington dryly. “Besides, I’m quite fond of your sister—if it weren’t for her shenanigans, you’d never have been at Harvard to hear my lecture. So if there is ever anything I can do for her, mein Liebling, you have but to say the word.”
“Hmm.” Venetia rubbed her cheek against the summer wool of his day coat. “I’m not sure what more we can do for her right now, other than to wait and see. But, my goodness, there is much that can be done for me, the delicate, expectant mother, thrust into the middle of such demanding circumstances.”
“Ah,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Do you know, I did receive a letter from the British Museum of Natural History yesterday afternoon. But with our entire evening consumed with your sister’s fate, I’d forgotten all about it.”
Her heart thumped with excitement. She was very, very fond of the British Museum of Natural History. “Really? What does your letter say?”
“Only that a shipment of tremendous saurian fossils have just arrived and they’d be pleased to let us have a private viewing. Shall I send a note and have them expect us at ten o’clock?”
“Yes. Yes,” she said. “Nothing pleases and soothes a delicate, expectant mother like crates upon crates of enormous dinosaur remains.”
He laughed. “I never thought I’d have a wife who is more excited about going to the British Museum of Natural History than I.”
“And aren’t you glad of it, darling.” She kissed him full on the lips. “Now go write that note, Your Grace. And I will get ready as fast as I can.”
Martin had come to self-flagellate. He was everything a penitent ought to be, humble, contrite, accepting of all blame. But Hastings was unimpressed. Martin should never have crossed the line in the first place. Then, after giving his word to Fitz, he should never have crossed the line again.
Or perhaps, reflected Hastings grimly, he was only angry because the next time Martin relapsed, he’d be lying with Hastings’s wife.
Martin was still talking. “Miss—Lady Hastings was adamant that I not make decisions on her behalf. She asked me to have a care not only for her reputation, but for her happiness. I was terribly conflicted. On the one hand, I’d given my word to you, sir. On the other hand, I’d also given my word to her, earlier, that I’d do everything in my power to make her happy. And here she was, demanding that I honor that promise. When I received a cable that seemed to be from her, I’m afraid her words—rather than yours—were the ones that rang loudest in my ears.”
He stopped, biting his lips and seemingly trying to gauge Fitz’s and Hastings’s reactions. Hastings said nothing; Martin had not come to see him.
“I cannot approve of your action any more than I can approve of my sister’s,” said Fitz. “I can only hope that the fact that together you’ve brought real consequences to her is rebuke enough to you, Mr. Martin.”
Fitz’s words were not kind, but they were just. Martin’s face turned beet red. Hastings looked away. He took no pleasure in Martin’s mortification. In fact, he felt almost as uncomfortable as Martin, at being “the real consequences” that had befallen Helena.
“But what is done is done,” continued Fitz. “My sister will be Lady Hastings—as salvageable an outcome as could have happened under the circumstances. I trust you will be the soul of discretion on the matter.”
“Of course, of course.” Martin all but bowed and scraped. “And many congratulations to you, Lord Hastings.”
Hastings declined to respond. Martin, ever more red-faced, mumbled a round of good days and showed himself out.
Hastings unclenched his fist. “What a wretch.”
Fitz sighed. “A wretch he may be, but remember, David, he is not what stands in your way. You are.”
Helena had just alighted before Fitz’s house when she saw Andrew disappearing around the bend. Her heart prickled with a hot pain. She picked up her skirt and started after him, only to have someone grip her by the arm.
“Let him go,” said Hastings. “It’s hardly