“I don’t feel very brave. I feel like the worst kind of fool. What will Blanche say? She loves Laxton and I . . . I ran away with him. He told me he’d never loved Blanche, that it had been me all along. He’s been writing to me for weeks in secret.”

“Never mind,” Viola said. “We’ll sort it all out later. The most important thing is to get you home and into bed so that a doctor can attend to your ankle.”

“Thank you,” said Belinda, grabbing Viola’s hand and kissing it.

“You can’t go after Laxton, West. You don’t even know where he went.”

“I’ll find him. And he’ll wish he’d never been born.”

“I don’t want you to fight a d-duel,” said Belinda, almost ready to begin crying again.

“There won’t be any duels,” Viola said briskly. “Now then, can you stand if we help you?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go home.”

“Yes, let’s.”

“The coach I asked to follow us will be here soon. We will travel back in style. It will be better for your ankle, Belinda. I’ll have a groom drive my curricle back to London.”

“Oh, West,” Belinda sobbed. “I’m truly so very sorry.”

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I know you are, sweetheart. I know you are.”

Viola gave him an encouraging smile. “I’ll go and order some tea while we wait.”

She needed a moment to collect herself. She was so relieved that Belinda was safe from ruin. And that meant the other sisters had escaped damage to their reputations, as well.

Which didn’t change her response to West’s hasty and unromantic proposal. She could never marry a man who didn’t love her.

She stood by her words. She’d go back to the dower house and fetch her father. They would deliver the symphony on time and move into their new cottage.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sebastian met them at the door upon their return. “Your Grace, your great-aunt Hermione has arrived and she is with Lady Blanche, Miss Betsy, and Miss Birgitta in the Blue Parlor.”

“I thought she wasn’t due back for months yet.”

“She’s here and in fine fettle.”

“Sebastian, send for the doctor. Miss Belinda has sprained her ankle.”

“Right away, Your Grace.”

“I don’t want to see Great-Aunt Hermione right now,” Belinda said. “And I can’t face Blanche. Not yet.”

“You must elevate your ankle. I’ll take you upstairs, shall I?” Viola asked.

“Thank you,” West said gratefully. “My great-aunt can be something of a battle-ax.”

“I’ve heard a lot about her. Good luck.”

Sebastian helped Viola support Belinda up the stairs while West mentally girded his loins for a meeting with his formidable great-aunt.

Upon entering the parlor, she immediately attacked.

“What’s this, Westbury? I leave for six months and all hell breaks loose?”