“You’re married,” Sophie explained. “Once you are married, it’s all different. A married woman can sleep with as many men as she wants, as long as she is absolutely discreet. Because common adultery is not really interesting. You may make the gossip columns but you won’t be ruined. But a wrong move in an interesting direction—say, showing affection for your husband’s brother, and compounding that with getting pregnant in his absence, and not showing how close you are to giving birth—well, that can ruin a woman. But even that kind of ruination can be salvaged, because you are so very rich, Charlotte, and so is Alex.”

Charlotte digested all this in silence. “It doesn’t matter,” she finally said flatly. “Because Alex thinks I did sleep with his brother. I suppose if I stayed here and the baby was born tomorrow, he would believe that the child was his. But he would still take the child away. He thought I was a … a trollop before.”

“Why?” Sophie asked.

Charlotte hesitated. She had never told Sophie the reason why she and Alex had had such a tempestuous wedding night.

“I slept with him before we got married,” Charlotte said. “I slept with him at a ball.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it was at the Cyprians’ Ball, so-called. “And he doesn’t remember it, and thinks I slept with his brother. So to him all of this gossip is confirmation that I really love his brother. Oh, God, how could I have been so stupid!” Because now Charlotte realized that of course Alex would believe the article. Of course he wouldn’t think the child was his.

Sophie was looking at Charlotte with fascination. She sat down next to her. “You slept with him—at a ball?”

Charlotte nodded.

“And he doesn’t remember? Lord, how many women has he deflowered at a ball?”

Charlotte shook her head helplessly. “We never discussed the place. He jumped to the conclusion, on our wedding night, that I had slept with Patrick. And then he refused to talk about it again. He promised … he promised.” Charlotte’s voice caught on a sob, but she steadied herself. “He promised to trust me.”

Sophie gave her a sympathetic squeeze. She had virtually no belief in male promises, but it didn’t seem the right moment to point that out. Charlotte was extraordinarily beautiful when she was her ordinary self, but pregnant … she was exquisite. It was very hard to believe that a man had allowed sex with Charlotte to slip his mind.

“I still can’t believe that he doesn’t remember sleeping with you—especially given that you were a virgin.”

Charlotte shrugged. “He says he never met me before.”

“Who should we bring with us?” Sophie said practically.

“Katy, Marie, and your maid,” Charlotte replied. “Keating and Mall are already in Wales, thank goodness.”