“Such a modern woman,” he teased gently. He extended a hand to pull her to her feet. “Let’s put your clothes back on.” He bent to pick up her discarded stockings.

“Pour me some more champagne while I put myself back together,” Petra said.

“As you command, ma’am.” He bowed, which, given his own semi-clad condition, made her laugh.

She seemed clumsier than usual, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her chemise and shirt, and her heart was beating faster than usual. Petra closed her eyes for a moment, trying to center herself. She’d assumed that her first experience of the mystery of sex would take place on her wedding night. Not that she’d given its timing much thought. Now she wanted to go home and reflect on the significance of the last hour. She took the champagne glass Guy offered her and sipped the cool, crisp bubbles.

Guy looked at her with concern. “You’re looking tired, sweetheart, and I imagine those bruises are probably troubling you. There’s nothing I’d like better than to tuck you up in my bed right now, but with Charlie in the house . . .”

“Yes, of course,” she said, draining her glass, feeling somewhat vague and uncoordinated. “I am engaged to join a party at the Haymarket this evening. I need to go home.”

Guy went to the door and opened it. “Babbit, send someone for a hackney.”

“I can walk,” she suggested without conviction.

Guy ignored the comment, placing her straw hat carefully on her disheveled head, equally carefully inserting the pins. “It’s not perfect but it’ll do for the moment,” he declared, taking her arm. “Ordinarily, after lovemaking, one enjoys the afterglow during a certain period of relaxation. It’s a shame present circumstances don’t allow for that,” he commented dryly. “Next time, I’ll be rather more prepared.”

“Next time?” Petra queried, rousing herself from her stupor.

“Oh, yes, my sweet,” he said softly. “There will most certainly be a next time.” With an arm around her shoulders, he eased her out of the library, across the hall and into the waiting hackney.

Petra leaned against his encircling arm as the carriage took them the short distance to Brook Street. The only thing she knew for certain was that there would be no excursion to the Haymarket for her tonight. There was far too much to think about, not least what this afternoon meant for the future.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Over the next weeks society at large became accustomed to seeing Petra Rutherford in the company of Guy Granville. Rupert Lacey came back to Cavendish Square one evening and entered his wife’s bedroom as usual without ceremony. “Do you know what’s going on with Granville and Petra, Diana?”

Diana swiveled on her dressing stool. “They enjoy each other’s company.”

Rupert surveyed her, his eyes narrowed. “Don’t be obtuse, wife.”