“Everything’s in a tangle and the only thing to be done is to leave before I hurt myself . . . or anyone else. I told West that we’re leaving after Papa finishes his symphony, which is due in two days. Isobel, I was hoping that your aunt’s cottage in Watford is still available?”

“It is. And I’ve already told her about you and your father and she’d be delighted for you to live there.”

“Is that really what you want, Viola?” asked Philippa.

“It’s just better if I leave. Go back to my old life. I’m not as bold and fearless as all of you. I’ve always been the quiet one, the supporter, the shoulder to lean on.”

“I, for one, know someone who will be very happy if Viola doesn’t marry the duke,” Della said. “My brother, John. After your dance at Lady Pickering’s ball he was quite taken with you. He keeps asking me about you.”

He’d been very kind and handsome, but she’d felt nothing for him. She’d only had eyes for West.

“Do you think that the duke prefers Lady Winifred?” Isobel asked.

“Why would he want a milksop like her when he could have a firebrand like Viola?” Beatrice asked.

“You think I’m a firebrand?” Viola asked, taken aback.

“Absolutely. You stood up for me when I didn’t believe in myself,” Beatrice replied.

“You’ve always been there for us—a fierce advocate and loyal friend,” agreed Isobel.

“You deserve a starring role in your own life,” said Beatrice. “You’re so much stronger than you know. I wish you could see yourself the way we see you.”

“It takes great strength to constantly prop everyone else up,” Isobel agreed. “And now we want to repay the favor.” She caught Viola’s gaze and held it, standing up from her chair and squaring her shoulders. “Miss Viola Beaton, you should leave this book club meeting and march right over to that musical publisher, reveal yourself as Mr. Vincent Beam, and claim compensation for your work.”

Viola took a deep breath, ready to mount her objections, but before she could speak, Beatrice rose from the table and stood shoulder to shoulder with Isobel. “And I believe that after you reveal your true identity to the world, you should reveal your true feelings to the duke. No matter the outcome.”

She stared at her friends. “Do you really think I’m that brave?”

They nodded. “We do.”

“I think you’re the most brave, bold, and intrepid woman in this room,” said Philippa, joining Isobel and Beatrice.

“And I agree,” said Della, standing up. “Even though my brother John will be crushed, I think you would make a first-rate duchess, and damn anyone who has the gall to say otherwise!”

“You’ve all gone mad,” Viola said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.