She told him everything about that night. Well, everything except for the way Matthew had tended to her. Even though he’d done little more than hold her, she doubted Mick would appreciate it, which was no doubt part of the reason she hadn’t told him about Dibble before.

“Lord Rosemont came to your rescue?” Aslyn asked, clearly dumbfounded by the knowledge, repeating what Fancy had shared.

“He was leasing a residence. Only I didn’t realize until yesterday who he was, until he gave evidence at the trial. I didn’t stay. Don’t ask the reason.” Nodding toward the Times crumpled in Mick’s hand, she was surprised he hadn’t turned the newspaper back into pulp. “Is there anything?”

He exchanged a glance with his wife, before pinning Fancy with his hard-edged stare. “I think there’s something you’re not telling us.”

“With all due respect, Mick, it’s none of your business.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you turned down Beresford’s offer?”

Lifting her cup, surprised to find her fingers not trembling, she took a sip of her tea, set the cup back on the saucer. “You are not to confront him.”

She supposed that was answer enough because he cursed harshly before rattling the paper and beginning to scour the pages. “Guilty,” he finally barked, then looked at her. “Ten years in Pentonville.”

A sigh of relief rushed out. “Thank God.”

“Why didn’t you come to me, Fancy, and let me know what was happening here?”

He sounded truly hurt, and for that she was sorry. “You’ve taken care of me for so long, Mick. It’s time I took care of myself. And Matthew”—she pressed her lips together, squeezed her eyes shut, opened them—“Rosemont had seen to the matters I couldn’t.”

“Rosemont,” he ground out, narrowing his eyes. “Perhaps I should have a word.”

“No. And don’t you try and work your way around this by asking one of the others to see to him. None of you are to interfere.”

“So there is something between you with which to interfere.”

She rolled her eyes. “Leave off.”

Beneath his breath, he grumbled something about irritating sisters being too independent by half. She took it as a compliment.

“I will be having a word with Dibble, however,” he said sternly, in a voice that would brook no argument. “If he survives those ten years, when he gets out, I’ll be waiting for him.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know his first name.”

“I’m not certain he has one. Never doubt, Fancy, that in spite of the circumstances, you were wanted.”

“I know. Still, I wish they’d been different for Mum. That it had been as she told me. For her sake.”

“She did love her husband.”