“Your name?”

“Yes,” Diana said.

“Your name connected with Lord Bryant’s.” Charlotte’s wrinkles were starting to come back. Perhaps Diana shouldn’t have said anything.

Diana grabbed her teacup and put it to her mouth. If she finished her tea quickly, this conversation could end faster. “Yes.”

“You do know what kind of man he is . . .”

Did she? What kind of man was Lord Bryant? She could still feel the pressure of his hands on her back. Oddly enough, that sensation had stayed with her more than the touch of his lips—Lord Bryant pulling her to him, as if she belonged to him. A ridiculous thought. She belonged to no one. Nor would she ever. She might marry someday, but she would always remain her own person.

Diana took a large sip of tea. “What kind of man is he?”

“The worst kind. And if your name is bandied about with his, it will do you no favors socially. No one will believe his intentions are honorable. The man was married once, and he has sworn to never marry again.”

“I had heard.”

She hadn’t heard much, though. Even last summer, when she had bumped into him at a picnic soon after arriving in London, she hadn’t wanted to pry, not with the other women there. Sitting across from her was the man she had dreamt about for over a year. But seeing him in the flesh, paying particular attention to three of the women there, she knew he was someone left better to her imagination than discovering who he was in real life.

Not long after that, she began to hear stories about him. He was a scoundrel and a rake.

He had ruined multiple women.

But with all the scandal and gossip, she had still never heard his wife’s name. It was almost as if the woman hadn’t existed.

Charlotte took a sip of tea and set her cup down, leaning forward. “Why, last year, a marquess threatened to call Lord Bryant out if he didn’t marry his daughter, and he still didn’t. He left the country for three months rather than face the father in a duel or marry his daughter. In the meantime, the poor woman married a farmer.” Charlotte leaned forward. “If he wouldn’t agree to marry the daughter of a marquess, he won’t be saddled with anyone.”

“I have heard him say as much.”

“And yet you will accept help from him when you know he won’t marry? What kind of help is he offering?”

“Are you implying that the only help I could get from a man is marriage?” That was almost exactly the rumor Diana had been spreading, but still . . .

“I’m not implying that. I’m only struggling to understand what else he could do to help.”

“He could invest; he could hire guards to protect the office. The man is as rich as the queen. He could do any number of things that have nothing to do with marriage.”