“Of a certainty,” Ruth said. “He is intent on attending Mr. Chapin’s balloon ascent at Cremorne Gardens. It’s set for two o’clock if the weather is fine. Philip is confident we can make it if we depart Luxford Place by ten. I’d have thought, after last evening, he would have lost the taste for such spectacle, but he claims balloons are in a different category from high wires.”

Effie smiled. “I admire his sagacity.”

“That’s one word for it,” Ruth said. Curtsying to them both, she took her leave, promising to call again on her return to London.

Effie was left standing alone in front of Miss Compton, like a wayward schoolgirl in anticipation of a dressing-down. There appeared little hope of being invited to sit.

It wasn’t the time to show weakness. One could be amenable—conciliatory, even—and still be decisive.

Effie helped herself to a seat beside Miss Compton on the Japanese sofa. Their skirts bunched against each other. “I gather you’re upset that Lord Mannering escorted me home,” she said, unprompted. “Pray, don’t be. He only exerted himself because he sincerely promised Lady Belwood he’d guarantee my welfare. Had he lost me in the Gardens—”

The entirety of Miss Compton’s body stiffened. “But you weren’t lost, were you? You were with that Royce fellow. Lord Powell said the man carried you away. Meanwhile, I was on the grass, in fear for my life, with no one to attend me.”

“We both know that isn’t true,” Effie said gently. “Lord Mannering didn’t leave your side until he was assured you were safe in the carriage with his sister and Lord Powell. Indeed, anyone would say he showed more care for your welfare than he did for mine. I was but an afterthought to him.”

A pucker formed in Miss Compton’s brow. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“That’s understandable. You were distraught. So were we all.”

“It was a dreadful spectacle,” Miss Compton said. “I shall never forget the gruesomeness of all that blood.”

Effie couldn’t forget it, either. Mr. Galezzo had been performing for them. Risking life and limb for their coin, and their amusement. Yet, now he was gone, people like Miss Compton were more concerned with the harm they’d suffered in witnessing the tragedy of his death than they were with Mr. Galezzo actually having died.

Was it any wonder Ruth required a respite in the country?

In that moment, Effie wished she might follow her example. She was tired of fashionable London. Tired of pretending to be something she wasn’t.

But there would be no withdrawing from the field—and no money with which to do it—until her job was finished.

“Poor thing,” Effie murmured again, far more sympathetically than she felt. “You must give it time. The memory is still very fresh.”