“Near enough, as far as she’s concerned. It’s only natural that there should be some ill feeling on her part. I mean to say…the man made a spectacle of himself kissing you on a public beach. You! A female too weak to resist. He’s compromised you beyond recovery. How could Miss Talbot ever marry him now?”

“He wasn’t kissing me, Aunt. I’ve told you a half dozen times. He was sharing his breath. If you don’t believe me, you must at least believe Teddy. He was on the beach when it happened.”

Aunt Charlotte gave an eloquent snort. “Sharing his breath, indeed. A likely excuse.”

“You weren’t there. Not until after he’d revived me.”

“I thank God every day that I wasn’t. But I’ve had the events of that morning described to me by more people than I care to count. I don’t know how I shall ever hold my head up in the village again. And I can’t begin to imagine how you ever will. Not without allies. Being civil to Henrietta Talbot would go a long way toward repairing your reputation. If you’ll only come down to the parlor and greet her.”

Laura turned back to the window. She drew her silk shawl more firmly about her shoulders. “I’m not well enough to come downstairs today.”

“Oh, Laura, can you not make the effort—”

“She may come and see me up here if she likes. We are old friends, after all.” Laura couldn’t keep the edge of bitterness from her voice. Henrietta had been as cold as ice toward her on the train home from Margate. As if it had been Laura’s fault that she’d nearly drowned.

And perhaps it was.

Had she been exercising adequate care for her reputation, she’d never have swum off alone. She’d have abided by the rules set out for genteel young ladies. Resisted the temptation of the open sea, and stayed safely near the shore.

Now, as a result of her actions, it wasn’t only her own life that was affected. Aunt Charlotte, Teddy, and even Alex were all suffering from the upheaval caused by Laura’s reckless decision.

Aunt Charlotte gave Laura’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “My darling. We haven’t been the luckiest of families, I know, but we shall rally again, just as we’ve always done. You mustn’t take it too much to heart.”

Laura covered her aunt’s hand with her own. “Do send up Henrietta.”

A short time later, preceded by the creaking of the stairs and the squeak of the loose floorboard in the hall, Henrietta entered Laura’s bedroom. She might have stepped straight out of the pages of the Englishwomen’s Domestic Magazine. Her striped afternoon dress was the height of summer fashion, her flounced skirts standing wide over a wire crinoline.