The ladies, to their credit, held their heads high and walked with elegance and grace through the crowd, which parted before them. Well, Betsy wasn’t particularly elegant or graceful, but the tilt of her chin and the dauntless look in her eye said she didn’t give one fig what anyone thought of her, or her brother.

When they were safely out of the house, down the marble stairs, and back to the carriage, Viola breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Oh dear,” Aunt Miriam said, fluttering her hands. “What’s to be done? What can we do? Such a scandal. And at the very first ball of the Season. And your dowries. This is a disaster.”

Viola placed her hands on her shoulders. “Miss Miriam, please escort the young ladies back to the house.”

“Oh yes. That’s what I must do.”

“West’s carriage is still here,” Betsy pointed out. They’d been too large of a party and had split themselves into several conveyances.

“He’ll be off on foot to a tavern, or gaming hell, by now,” said Bernadette glumly. “Sometimes I do believe I might take up strong drink myself.”

“I don’t think so,” Belinda said. “I watched him through the windows as he left and I think he turned down the garden path. Shouldn’t wonder if he’s out there having a good cry. I certainly would be weeping if I’d been jilted in such a public manner by an American. She may have exquisite taste in clothing, but her judgment in men is deplorable.”

Blanche was silent, which worried Viola more than if she’d been wailing. “Are you all right, Lady Blanche?”

“Nothing will ever be right again.” Her face was pale and anguished in the moonlight. “We’ve been publicly humiliated. Lord Laxton will surely have nothing to do with me when he hears the story.”

Viola had tried to reason with her earlier, telling her as much as she could about Laxton’s slanderous comments but apparently Blanche hadn’t been dissuaded.

“Are we going to be ostracized?” Belinda asked. “Is our Season over before it even began?” Tears gathered in her eyes.

A large man rushed down the steps and approached them. Viola immediately recognized the ungainly Lord Flanders.

“Lady Blanche, might I be of assistance in any way?” he asked, twisting his large hands together.

Blanche stared at a point to the left of his face. “It’s good of you, Lord Flanders, but we’re just leaving.”

“Mightn’t I see you safely home now that the duke has . . . left precipitously?”

Viola gave him a warm smile. “We’re not certain where His Grace has gone. Perhaps you might search for him and see that he arrives safely home this evening?”

Lord Flanders made a bow. “It would be my great honor to be of any assistance. Do you have a suggestion for where I might begin my search?”