“Lord Radnor! Your wife said you were ailing and wouldn’t be able to come tonight, but you’ve made it after all .”

Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, paused and turned, relaxing a little when he recognized his host, Lord Landon, approaching. But then the man’s words sank in.

“My wife?” he asked, his gaze sliding in question to his best friend and the man who’d saved his life and brought him here, Daniel, the Earl of Woodrow.

Daniel merely shrugged helplessly.

“Yes,” Landon said cheerfully and glanced around. “She’s here somewhere. Lady Radnor and her sisters were among the first to arrive. There she is,” he said with triumph, pointing toward a small group of women gathered at the end of the ball room.

Richard peered to where a petite blonde stood in a circle of several much older women. The older women were all chattering away while the woman who was apparently his wife listened, or didn’t listen. He couldn’t tell. Her eyes were locked on him with something like horror. He felt his eyebrows rise, but looked her over slowly, noting that she was overly thin, pale to the point of sickly, and not particularly pretty.

“As I say,” Landon continued, turning back to face him, “she told us you had taken to your bed with a malaise and wouldn’t be attending tonight. You look fine to me, though. Still, she does appear to be surprised to see you.”

“I’m sure she is,” Richard said quietly.

The jovial smile on the man’s face faded briefly and he said in more solemn tones, “I’m glad to see you here. You’ve kept too much to yourself since your brother’s death. It’s good to see you rejoining society. You were missed.”

“Thank you,” Richard murmured, oddly touched by the sentiment.

Nodding, Landon thumped him on the back in a manly manner, and then cleared his throat and glanced around. “Well, I suppose I should see to the rest of my guests. Go assure your wife you’re well. She must have thought you at death’s door to be so shocked now,” Landon said with a laugh. “I fear you must have overplayed it a bit, boy. Next time you want to slip out to see your mistress, just give a sniffle or two and a cough. There’s no need to act like you have the plague.” Laughing, Landon slapped him on the back again and then turned to disappear into the crowd.

“I had no idea,” Daniel assured him solemnly. “I was on my estate and out of the way of society and its gossip until your letter arrived, and then I was busy making arrangements to sail to America to hunt for you.”

Richard nodded silently, not taking his eyes off the blonde across the ball room. She hadn’t moved but still stood, face pale and eyes and mouth round with horror, staring at him as if he were the devil himself.

“What do we do now?” Daniel asked grimly. “You can’t confront George for the greedy, murderous, bastard of an imposter he is if he isn’t here.”