Alex stalked out to his carriage, absolutely calm. He gave the coachman the address for his solicitor, and sat back in the carriage. Thankfully, he felt nothing. A reasonable voice in his head reminded him that such a scandal was only to be expected, and he agreed. Still, he felt as if someone had poured cold steel through his veins. He didn’t even feel bitter, he thought, a little surprised. He must have known, all along. If anything … he felt a little pain that Patrick would do this to him. Patrick was his other arm, his boyhood companion, his twin. How could he betray him? Yet even this, the grossest of the betrayals facing Alex, didn’t really bother him.

On the other hand, Mr. Jennings of Jennings and Condell found himself bothered indeed. Normally nothing flustered Jennings. No matter what disaster—forged wills, foolish lawsuits, illegal duels—was recounted to him, Jennings maintained a tranquil front. In fact, to his mind the law had the remedy for anything. But surveying the huge, dispassionate earl standing before him, Jennings felt an unfamiliar tremor of panic. If only his father were still alive; his father was so good at handling irate peers and irascible earls. He could talk them out of their bluster and fury in about twenty minutes, blending his soothing voice with large draughts of the very best port. But every instinct cautioned against offering this particular earl a glass of port. He looked murderous, in Jennings’s opinion.

Jennings bowed very low. “My lord,” he said calmly, “won’t you enter my study?” Once Sheffield was settled in his comfortable, book-lined study, Jennings took out a folder. Inside was a copy of the Tatler article in question. Jennings sat down in a large leather armchair opposite Alex. He crossed his legs and made a tent out of his delicate fingers.

“I called on your lady the morning after this article appeared,” he said, watching Alex scowl as he read the details of his wedding night in The Tatler. “However, I just missed her. Her entourage left for the country that morning. I cannot say I disagree with her decision,” he said in his thin, rather acid fashion. “It would have been remarkably unpleasant had she remained in London. The article, naturally, caused a good deal of excitement.”

He paused. Alex sat back, absolutely composed, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. Since he said nothing, Jennings continued.