It seemed Bess was likely going to have puppies. It was just a question of who the father would be. Evie hoped it would be Ash, though that would probably anger Mr. Kirby. She preferred to think of Bess having puppies with the dog she’d chosen, not the one arranged by Mr. Kirby.

“I do hope you’ll keep me informed. Your Bess is a lovely dog.”

“Thank you. I adore her.” Mrs. Kirby opened the door for Evie.

With a wave, Evie went on her way. Her stomach churned with anxiety as her mind returned to the possibility that someone would discover who she was. This was madness. Even if someone learned she was having an affair with Gregory, that didn’t mean they’d determine her true identity.

Why was she so nervous? She realized she’d been that way the past month, perhaps because of her encounter with Arbuthnot at Witney Court. Since returning to town, she’d mostly kept to her house and the Phoenix Club. She’d even curtailed her shopping a bit, which was her favorite thing to do. And she hadn’t accepted any invitations. She’d attributed it to being busy, but now she acknowledged that she’d been avoiding spaces and events where she might run into him again.

It would be best if she saw Gregory less. They didn’t need to spend every night together. And as much as she wanted to see him—and Ash—in the park today, she’d send a note saying she couldn’t make it. She’d also let him know not to come that night, that she was nervous the neighbors might notice.

He might ask why she would care. It wasn’t unusual for a widow to have a liaison. That didn’t mean she wanted to flaunt it. He would understand.

And if he didn’t… Well, this wasn’t ever going to last forever. Nor was it even supposed to have continued when they returned to London—for precisely this reason. She’d curated a specific life here as patroness of the Phoenix Club.

She wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that.

Evie’s note informing him that she would not be meeting him in the park and that he should not visit her for a few nights had formed a ball of tension between Gregory’s shoulder blades. She’d explained why—her concern that they’d be discovered—and he understood. He didn’t particularly want their affair to become public either.

And why was that?

Because it was new to him? Because he cared about her? Because his father would have been horrified that Gregory was having an affair with a widow?

What harm was there in that, really?