“You’re wrong on that score.” St. Clare’s mouth hitched in a fleeting smile. “Miss Honeywell means to cast them out.”

Maggie flushed. “Well, I did think I might.”

“Nonsense,” Allendale said. “Let them remain for the moment. I would see them all when I arrive tomorrow evening. Every last scheming one of them.”

Maggie didn’t relish the prospect. “If that’s what you wish but…it’s bound to be uncomfortable for all concerned.”

“Exceedingly so,” Allendale replied, “more for some than for others, I’d wager.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

The next day, at seven o’clock precisely, St. Clare arrived at the front door of Beasley Park, dressed in an impeccably cut black evening suit with a light-colored waistcoat and elegantly arranged cravat.

Maggie met him at the threshold. She looked behind him, down the stone steps and over the torchlit drive. There was no sign of the earl’s carriage. Nor of the earl.

A flicker of apprehension quickened her pulse. “Where is Lord Allendale?”

St. Clare’s expression was grim, made worse by the heavy bruising that had emerged on his face. He had a spectacular black eye, and a cut on his brow and on his lip. “Gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?” A footman approached, but Maggie waved him away. She let St. Clare into the hall herself, shutting the door behind him.

“I have my suspicions.” He scanned her face. “How are you?”

“Perfectly well.”

“Your guests haven’t been bullying you?”

“No. That is, Fred has been a trifle difficult. He called earlier, and then again this afternoon, trying to speak to me alone, but Jane refused to budge from my side. Fred was very nearly ready to throttle her.”

St. Clare’s mouth curved. “God bless Jane Trumble. And what of my meddling relations? Have they been difficult?”

“Not exactly. Not to me, at any rate. They’ve kept to their rooms for much of the day. I fear they’ve been writing letters, spreading the news of your identity to all and sundry. They came into the drawing room this evening looking as satisfied as two cats who had just stolen the cream.”

St. Clare didn’t appear at all worried. Indeed, he seemed far more concerned about Maggie’s well-being than his own. “I would have come sooner, but I thought it better to let tempers cool. Otherwise we might have had a reenactment of that unfortunate scene at the tavern.”

“Lord, I hope not. Things are quite tense enough without adding another brawl to the mix.”

Tense didn’t begin to explain it.

On returning home in the earl’s carriage, Maggie had gone straight to Jane and told her all. Jane had been an absolute brick, sitting up with Maggie until dawn. She’d also been a little hurt that Maggie had been keeping such an enormous secret. That she hadn’t trusted Jane enough to confide in her.