What would it take for him to show his reactions? She felt her mouth curl into a smile as she pondered it.

“Stop that,” he said in a growl. “Unless you want me to—”

She didn’t hear the rest of his words because just then a dancing couple slammed into them, making her stumble, and making him release his hold on her.

She blinked, startled, as she regained her stability, glancing at the other couple, her mouth opening to ask if they were all right.

“Lady Della, it seems you are impossible to keep upright,” a voice said, louder than was necessary. A few heads turned to look at them, and then more, a cascading effect of salacious interest rippling through the crowd.

“If you weren’t so determined to be horizontal,” the voice continued, “you wouldn’t have the reputation you do.”

Della felt her breathing quicken as she glared at the man speaking. Of course it was someone she’d known, before, when she’d had her first season. Before she eloped with Mr. Baxter. She didn’t recall his name, but she did recognize his face, even though it seemed he had been doing some hard living while she was away from London.

“You don’t even recognize me,” the man said, sounding affronted.

“I recognize you’re an ass,” Della replied without thinking.

The crowd gasped. Of course it did, because a gentleman impugning a lady’s honor was far less horrible than a woman calling him out on it.

It felt as though she were staring at him through a red haze, fury clouding her vision, making her fists clench and her stomach tighten.

“Shut. Up.” It was Lord Stanbury, who had stepped over to her side, and was trying to pick her hand up. He directed his words to the gentleman, and she felt a flash of gratitude until it was swept up by her self-righteous anger.

“I will handle this,” she said in a low tone. She shook his hand away, taking a few steps away from him.

He did not relent, however, coming to stand right up against her and dragging her arm up so he was able to tuck it into his.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I will not—” I will not rely on you to fight my battles, I will not allow another man to make me feel ashamed of what I’ve done, I will not, I will not, I will not.

“Is that the first time you’ve said no?” the gentleman continued, only this time he spoke in a much lower tone. As though he knew that the crowd wouldn’t like this meanness, but he had to get in a few more shots before he was done.