“Yes, you’re right,” Braddon said with sudden vigor. “The fewer people who know the truth, the better. You, Madeleine’s father, and I are more than enough.”

Just then Sophie leaned over, waving her gloved hand. “Oh, do stop, Braddon. Look, there’s Charlotte and Alex!”

Braddon drew up and Sophie watched eagerly as Alex drew their two-wheeler parallel to Braddon’s landaulet.

“Nice rig you have there,” Braddon said to Alex. He was a friend of Patrick’s, rather than of Alex’s, and he remained a little in awe of Patrick’s twin brother. Patrick had a ready temper an’ all, but Alex had a steely glint in his eye that always made Braddon feel like squirming.

“Where’s Patrick?” Charlotte called cheerfully from the far side of the two-wheeler.

Sophie squirmed. If only it weren’t an egregious break in decorum for a woman to dash out of a carriage and run across the grass to another vehicle. She just shook her head, trusting that silence would tell Charlotte that something was wrong.

Her friend’s response was immediate: “Will you join us for a light supper tonight, Sophie?”

Sophie leaned forward, trying to see around Braddon’s considerable bulk. “I would be happy to do so, Charlotte. I’m not quite sure what Patrick’s plans are, however. We arrived in London only yesterday.”

“It’s early days in the marriage,” Alex said. “I’m sure Patrick will trail after you. At any rate, we must return to the house, Charlotte.” He winked at Sophie. “Some people are henpecked by their wives, but we are henpecked by our nanny. It’s time for Sarah and Pippa to pay a visit to the drawing room.”

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “Poor dears. Pippa appears all starched and miserable, and must act like a true lady for a brutal half-hour. Shall we see you at eight o’clock?”

Sophie nodded.

When Patrick had not returned by eight o’clock, Sophie left a neutrally worded note with the butler, Clemens, said good night to Henri, and directed the carriage to her brother-in-law’s house.

When she arrived, Sophie surprised herself by not blurting out all the details of their quarrel. She had been longing to tell Charlotte … but did she really want Charlotte to know that her husband had forthrightly admitted to marrying her for lust? One had to maintain a corner of dignity, somewhere, somehow.

Dinner passed in chatter about baby Sarah’s new tooth and the French soldiers rehabilitating in Wales. So it wasn’t until Alex retreated to his study that Sophie met with a challenge.

Charlotte didn’t bother with niceties. “Where on earth is he, Sophie? Have you quarreled?”

Sophie sat down on a low settee, constriction burning in her chest. “Oh, Charlotte,” she said, trying not to sound pitiful, “I have the devil of a temper, you know that.”