“She is, but . . .” Ever since Tommy’s slip, it had been hard to trust that happiness. “What if her happiness isn’t real?” If it was real, why wouldn’t she talk to Diana about it?

Nate scoffed. “It is hard to pretend to be happy.”

Diana narrowed one eye, her concern over Charlotte suddenly pushed aside. Sitting right across from Diana was one man whose marriage might not have happened without Lord Bryant. Mrs. Cuthbert’s laughter about the unhappy state of the women with whom Lord Bryant had scandals came back to her.

“Are you and Grace happy, Nate?”

Nate leaned back in his seat and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I don’t think anyone in England is nearly as happy as we are.”

Diana smiled and leaned back into her seat as well, but she couldn’t relax. Having Nate happy like this was one of life’s great pleasures for their whole family.

That might never have happened if Lord Bryant hadn’t been involved with Grace.

That made at least one happy marriage thanks to Lord Bryant nearly ruining a woman. How many more would she find if she continued to dig?

Even without visiting Lady Emily, she could find the answer to at least one of the burning questions that had arisen since she’d entered Mrs. Cuthbert’s home.

Who were these women Lord Bryant had scandalized, and were their lives truly ruined by him?

Chapter 20

Everton paced outside Lord Falburton’s residence. In his entire existence, he had never been denied entrance to a home.

The Falburtons’ behavior was outrageous.

Racing here after finding the news of Lady Emily’s betrothal in the newspaper had done him no good. The butler had claimed no one was home, but after waiting in his carriage, he had seen two other callers admitted and an upstairs curtain move often enough that he was certain Lady Emily was watching him. He had spent the last half hour outside his carriage watching that blasted window.

Had her opinion been sought out before making the betrothal official? He wished he knew. He had no idea whether she sat up in her room worried that he would dash into the house and make a scene or hopeful for it.

Only because he knew Lady Emily well enough to understand that any sort of attention given to her was unlikely to help matters did he stay on the street and out of the stately home.

“Pull the carriage forward, stopping just after you cross the next street,” Everton told his driver. He bounded into the carriage. It would have been preferable to walk the hundred feet or so, but he wanted the Falburton household to believe he had given up.

When the wheels stopped, he alighted and paced in front of the carriage. They may believe he left, but now what? Lady Emily wasn’t likely to take a stroll at all, let alone an unaccompanied one where he could speak to her openly.