“Miss Beaton told me that he’d slandered me but I didn’t believe it.”

“He’s a bad man,” said Birdie.

“Yes, very bad,” West agreed.

“This is all most unfortunate,” said Great-Aunt Hermione with an aggrieved sniff. “I always knew there was something off about that man. Do you remember, Blanche, years ago when you set your cap for him and I told you to wait for Banksford? Well, he’s taken. But you can still make a better match than Laxton.”

“Not if I have no dowry.”

“Piffle. You have your pretty face, though you do look very peaked today, I must say, with those dark circles under your eyes.”

“I just found out that my sister ran off with the man I thought I was in love with. I can’t believe he would do it . . . he’s . . . he’s a villain.”

“Does anyone know about this, Westbury?” Great-Aunt Hermione asked.

“Some of Belinda’s friends may know what she was planning. And Laxton may have told some friends, as well. But as far as I know, no one can confirm that it actually took place except for me, Miss Beaton, Laxton’s servants, and the patrons at the inn. I spread some coin at the inn in exchange for promises of silence.”

“I hope this can be contained,” said his great-aunt. “The scandal would sink this family even deeper into the mire of ruin than it has already sunk.”

“I’m going to deal with Laxton as soon as I find him.” West had sent word to Jax before they left to keep an eye out for Laxton.

“I do hope you won’t fight a duel,” Birdie said, running to him and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“Not if I can help it.”

“Now, girls,” said Great-Aunt Hermione, “I would speak with your brother in private.”

His sisters dutifully left the room.

“Now then, my boy. Do you know why I cut short my restorative sojourn in Bath and raced back to London even though my rheumatism is far from cured?”

“I feel certain that you’re going to tell me.”

“A most scurrilous rumor has reached my ears that you are planning to propose marriage to the girls’ music instructor. Please tell me it’s not true. What’s this? A sheepish expression on your face. Good gracious, Westbury, it won’t do. It won’t do at all!”

Viola closed the door to Belinda’s room, leaving her resting peacefully.

“How is she?” Betsy asked anxiously, pacing up and down the hallway outside her sister’s door. “Does she want to see me yet?”

“The doctor gave her a sedative for her nerves. Her ankle isn’t badly turned. He advised bed rest. I’m sure she’ll talk to you all tomorrow. She’s had an ordeal.”