Compton’s private life had been equally devastated by the revelations about his past. Rather than joining him in Hampshire in a show of solidarity, his wife and daughter had remained in London, where Miss Compton had lent her voice to the burgeoning women’s movement. Along with Mrs. Naismith, she had quickly become a fixture at Lady Bartlett’s salons in Kensington. Many in fashionable society interpreted her presence there as an unspoken condemnation of her father’s actions.

“Mr. Quincey says that Compton is abandoning his seat,” Effie said. “That he’ll no longer involve himself in affairs of Parliament.”

Gabriel lifted his razor. “It’s about time.”

“Yes, it is,” Effie agreed. “Now we need only deal with the remaining opposition to a married women’s property bill. With Compton gone, it shouldn’t be insurmountable.”

“I expect the revelations about his conduct have only strengthened the case.”

“I should say so.” Effie cast aside the paper. “Thank goodness for Mr. Quincey.”

Gabriel began shaving. “Speaking of Quincey…”

She raised her arms over her head in a languorous stretch. “What about him?”

“He’s been asking about the Academy.”

She gave him a sharp look. “Whatever for?”

“He may have found a connection between it and Elizabeth Wingard.”

“What?”

Gabriel once again met her eyes in his shaving mirror. “I told you, the man’s part bloodhound.”

“He doesn’t propose to print something about it, does he?”

“No,” Gabriel assured her. “I’ve told him, it’s off the table.”

“Then what?”

“He wants to talk to Miss Corvus.”

Effie gave a scornful huff. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Someone else, then,” Gabriel said. “What about your friend, Miss Trewlove?”

“Nell?” Effie had mentioned her to Gabriel several times, but the two of them had yet to meet. They were set to dine with her next week at an inn in the neighboring village to the Academy. Nell had invited them both particularly. “She would never submit to an interview.”

“Ask her,” Gabriel said. “Miles doesn’t bite.”

Effie thought on it as her husband finished shaving. It would be nice if Nell came to town. She deserved a bit of fun before taking up her permanent teaching position. Perhaps she might visit the theater as Effie had once suggested? Perhaps, she might even find a handsome gentleman to kiss?

Speaking of which…

Gabriel returned to the bed after rinsing and drying his face. He sank down beside her.

Effie reached up to caress his clean-shaven jaw. Her wedding ring—a large rose-cut diamond set on a band of gold—twinkled in the morning light. “Mmm,” she murmured her approval. “Pity you must go out.”

He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Who says I must?”

“You have the Board of Works meeting to get to,” she reminded him.