“Odd idea?” her husband said, an ironic note in his voice. “Braddon said you were madly in love with him, and you seemed to be. You insisted on eloping with him, for God’s sake. And then when he announced his engagement to Madeleine, you cried.”

“I cried?”

Sophie tried desperately to remember. “Well, I can’t have been crying over Braddon’s engagement,” she said practically, “because to be honest I don’t give a hang whom Braddon marries, and I never have.”

There was a second’s pause. “Braddon told you that I was madly in love with him?”

Patrick nodded.

Sophie’s eyes turned a fierce, midnight blue. “That pompous, egotistical worm! Me! In love with him!”

Patrick pulled her back onto his lap. Happiness was beginning to sing in his chest. “Let me see,” he said teasingly, “if I’ve got this right, he said that you adored him madly.”

“I’ll have his skin,” Sophie shrieked. Then she laughed. “I’ll tell Maddie to take revenge on him. As soon as they return from their wedding trip.”

“I like Madeleine,” Patrick said. “Where did you say you first met her?”

“Oh,” Sophie said weakly, “I think it must have been at the Cumberland ball.”

Patrick shook his head. “It can’t have been. She told me that her first ball was the one Lady Commonweal gave in honor of Sissy’s engagement, and you had Madeleine to dinner long before that.”

He looked at Sophie but she had turned her head. Her mind was in a jumble. It was hateful, lying to Patrick.

Finally she settled for a half-lie. “I think Braddon must have introduced me to her, but I can’t quite remember where.”

“Braddon!” Patrick was silent for an instant.

He had an unerring memory, which he’d found useful in negotiating the intricacies of international shipping. At that moment a sentence dropped like a netted herring into his mind, a sentence of Braddon’s. “Madeleine is different: she’s going to be mine forever.” Braddon’s new mistress—the mistress who replaced Arabella. He wanted her to live in Mayfair, Patrick thought; he wanted to be near her at all times….

Then, like a lightning flash: Oh Lord, Braddon involved Sophie in one of his schemes. And this was a dangerous one, socially, at least.

And finally, like a benediction: Sophie was with Braddon’s mistress on Thursdays. Madeleine. Madeleine was Braddon’s mistress.

“You taught that girl how to wear gloves and when to curtsy, didn’t you?”

Sophie giggled, a guilty giggle. “Madeleine didn’t need much instruction.”

Patrick took a deep breath. “I thought you were with Braddon on those long drives.”

“Well, I was,” Sophie said, half absently. She was still thinking about Madeleine. “But most of the time we couldn’t let him stay with us because Braddon was like a puppy dog. He couldn’t stay away from Maddie.”