“My mama,” Sophie said with a sideways glance at Charlotte, “is somewhat perturbed about tonight’s entertainment.”

“Really?” Charlotte replied. “I believe the play is quite unexceptional: Shakespeare, isn’t it?” Sophie’s mother had grown up in a French convent, and she had notoriously strict ideas about propriety.

“That’s not the problem. The problem is that where you go, along comes the earl, and …”

“Which earl?”

“You know which earl! The Earl of Sheffield and Downes, of course. Every wit’s favorite target.”

Charlotte’s heart sank. Sophie had been kept at home with a cold all the past week and Charlotte hadn’t had a chance to speak to her; if she too knew about Alex’s supposed impotence, then her mother was right. All of London was discussing the man’s ability.

“I don’t like it,” Charlotte said fiercely, staring between her horse’s flicking ears. “How can people be so vulgar!”

Sophie cast her a curious glance. “Is it true, then?” she asked.

“How on earth would I know?” Charlotte answered. “It took my mother about an hour to become clear enough so that I could even understand what she was talking about.”

Sophie listened silently. One of the virtues of having a French nanny was that talk of male properties was not uncommon in the Brandenburg nursery. Not, of course, that the marchioness, Eloise, had any notion of that fact.

“Perhaps you could ask him?” she said, her face alight with devilment. Charlotte looked up. There, edging down the street on a huge black stallion, was her sometime suitor, Alexander Foakes himself. Charlotte’s heart instantly started beating so quickly she felt as if the buttons on her riding costume must burst.

“Lady Charlotte; Lady Sophie,” Alex said easily, reining his horse to a stop just to the left of Charlotte. He doffed his hat. He was wearing a gray riding coat and top boots, and looked every inch the gentleman. Charlotte looked at him somewhat wonderingly. How on earth did she ever fool herself into thinking he was a footman?

“Sir,” she said, inclining her head.

Sophie contented herself with an impish smile. She liked this suitor of Charlotte’s, with his stormy black eyes and huge body. Not for her, someone so large and moody-looking, but he was perfect for Charlotte, she had to admit. Naturally, only if all those rumors were untrue.

“Won’t you join us, my lord?” Sophie asked.

Alex hesitated, looking at Charlotte’s downcast face. He only had to see her to become aflame with desire. Even now, the one thing he wanted to do was sweep her off her horse and carry her … where? Into his house, his bad angel quickly said. Charlotte’s eyelashes were so dark and thick that they cast shadows on her cheeks.