Had he once enjoyed Clothilde’s manipulations? Had he once appreciated her subtle deceits as she managed her life and those in it according to her own wishes? He had always known what she was up to, but it had amused him and now he couldn’t for the life of him think why. There was something so fresh and clean about his wife’s way of living her life. She believed in universal suffrage and she would fight for it. She hadn’t warned him in advance, and for that he was entitled to his annoyance, but for her convictions. . . ? Maybe not.

* * *

Blithely unaware of her husband’s self-reflections, Petra nursed her anger at his apparent complicity in the presence of his erstwhile mistress, but there was no opportunity to express any of her feelings, even after the luncheon guests had left. The house was still full of the weekend guests who must be entertained. But finally the interminable evening came to an end. Dottie had gone to her own bed and Petra sat in her dressing robe on the end of the bed and waited for Guy to come upstairs.

Guy couldn’t help but be aware of his wife’s suppressed anger whenever they were in the same room during the evening. She was icily polite to him, while maintaining her hostess charm with their guests. He steeled himself as he went upstairs to join her after seeing the last of his male guests to the foot of the stairs on their way to bed.

“All right, let’s hear it,” he said as he came in, his hands raised, palm forward in a gesture of defense.

“I don’t understand, why would you invite her . . . after the last time.”

“I didn’t,” he returned. “I had no idea she was staying with Harrington. It was unspoken that the open house invitation would include any guests under his roof. You know that as well as I do, Petra.”

“You didn’t know she was here?” Petra asked, incredulous.

“No, how should I have?”

She shook her head in bewilderment. “Well, I did, and she certainly knew you were here.”

“How can you know that?”

“I saw her on Bristol station the day Joth and I arrived. Don’t tell me it was pure coincidence that Lord Harrington was in the country. He’s known for hating it. He hardly ever leaves London except during hunting season.”

“Which is now,” Guy pointed out mildly.

Petra was silent for a moment. Then she said, “You really didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t. Do you think I would have sent Harrington an invitation if I had known?”

“I don’t know. You invited her to our engagement party.”

“And you know why I did that.” He sounded impatient. “I now am a married man and I would not consider it appropriate to invite an ex-mistress under my roof when my wife is present.”