“Charlotte, remove your hand from my leg this instant or I shall do something drastic!”

Charlotte dimpled at her. “What?”

Gillian thought for a moment. “I shan’t introduce you to Noble’s cousin.”

“Faugh!” Charlotte said, and started to fumble with the bedding.

“He’s a duke, and he’s not married.”

Charlotte stopped. “Age?”

“I believe he’s in his forties.”

“Children?”

“Two daughters. He needs an heir.”

“Country seat?”

“Sussex.”

“Very well, but I think you’re being awfully mean about this. I shall go down and amuse Lord Weston’s ladybirds until you get dressed, but for heaven’s sake, wear something with a high neck. We don’t want you to shock them!”

Half an hour later Gillian stepped through the doorway to her sitting room.

“…say, I can’t imagine there can be any pleasure found in someone biting you. And my cousin was covered—oh, there you are.”

Gillian looked at the women gathered. All four were crammed together on the pale blue sofa, each with a cup of tea held carefully in a gloved hand. Charlotte was seated in an armchair, one leg negligently crossed over the other, swinging her foot in an annoying and unladylike manner.

Gillian raised her chin as four pairs of eyes turned in her direction.

“Good morning. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am that you could all take time out of your busy day to call on me. That is, I assume it’s your days that are busy, not your evenings, although I cannot say for certain. When are your busy times, mistress-wise?”

The four women looked at one another, then back at Gillian. One, a dark-haired woman with porcelain skin, coughed gently. “You are Lady Weston, are you not?”

Gillian smiled at her. The woman seemed a genteel sort for a lightskirt. Perhaps she had been misinformed about the character of such women. It made sense that Noble would consort only with a better class of women, not common doxies.

“Yes, I’m Lady Weston. Oh dear, I suppose it would be best if we started with names first, so that I might know who you are.”

The dark-haired woman in the middle set down her teacup and rose. The other ladies rid themselves of their teacups as well. “I am Madelyn de la Clare, Lady Weston, and I must admit that I’m a bit confused about why you’ve called us here. I can assure you that I have not seen your husband for several years. If you have something to say to me, I’d appreciate it if you could say it now, and I’ll be on my way. My sister is watching my daughter, and I’d like to fetch her home again.”

“You have a daughter?”

“I have three children, my lady.”

“Are any of them Lord Weston’s?” Charlotte asked.

“Charlotte! Don’t be impertinent. Noble would surely have acknowledged any of his children.”

“Oh, yes, Nick. Beg pardon, I’m sure.”

Madelyn looked from Gillian to Charlotte, her mien dignified. “No, my lady, none of my children belong to Lord Weston. I am married now.”