“Caro will help me.” She smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs to change her gown into something suitable for paying a call. “She’s sure to. She has a great fondness for me, and can refuse me nothing. I can count on her to see me through this trying time.”

***

“No.”

“Caro—”

“NO!”

“But you haven’t even heard—”

“And I don’t have to! Charlotte, you have cozened me into one outrageous plan after another, but I must put my foot down now. I cannot help you.”

“It is a matter of life and death.”

“It is not, it’s a matter of your pride. You said Lord…Mr…oh, what should I call your husband?”

“He is Lord Carlisle, but you may call him Alasdair if you desire.”

Caroline looked appalled at the idea, so appalled she stopped where she was right in the middle of Hyde Park. Her maid and Charlotte’s footman, both trailing at a discreet distance and chatting in a familiar manner that Caroline did not entirely approve of, sat down on a nearby bench. “I couldn’t possibly!”

“Oh, pheasant feathers! You’re making such a fuss over nothing! Very well, call him McGregor.” Charlotte twirled her parasol in a determinedly unconcerned fashion and smiled at a pair of passing ladies. “Mrs. Hawkins is looking plump. Do you think she’s increasing again?”

“I doubt it. Mr. Hawkins has been in Belgium this last year. As I was saying, if your husband has already contacted his solicitors about the matter, there is no need for you to go running off on another one of your hen-witted plans.”

“There is every need, Caro,” Charlotte said, refusing to rise to the hen-witted bait. She dimpled out of habit as a small clutch of dandies on horseback looked their way. The weather had turned sunny again, making it very pleasant to take a stroll through the park, especially since they were in clear view of Rotten Row so they could see and be seen. Still, she had a job to do. Duty must come before pleasure. Extracting a small memorandum book from her reticule, she slipped her arm through Caroline’s and urged her in the direction she wished to go. “Solicitors are notoriously slow, and I haven’t the time to wait on their pleasure. Besides, I’m not sure I can trust them to find in Alasdair’s favor, as I will.”

“But—”

“Only you can help me—you are a veritable mountainhead of gossip, Caro!”

“Fountainhead.”

“You must be aware of the very precarious position Alasdair and I are in at the moment. One more scandal and even I will not be able to salvage our standing with the ton. Thus I turn to you, my dearest and closest friend and confidant, for aid.” Charlotte blinked quickly and dabbed her handkerchief at a nonexistent tear. “I have no one else I can turn to.”

“I know full well you’re not crying; you hate crying. Tears make your eyes turn red and swollen, and your nose becomes afflicted, and sometimes you get the hiccups as a result, so you’re not fooling me into thinking that you’d weep now over something so trivial.”