Evan smiled back at his alleged lover and ladled a bowl, placing it in front of her with a small, gallant bow.

The Ermine observed the interplay with narrowed eyes.

“I have had a letter back from Lord Alvanley today,” Porty said, his voice overloud in the scarcely populated room. The man did tend to shout rather than talk. “He and Mr. Brummell are presently visiting the Ladies of Llangollen.”

Of course; the Ladies of Llangollen were close by in Wales. Only hours away. If things were not so fraught, I would suggest Julia and I visit her friend Miss Ponsonby.

“They are on their way to Alvanley’s estate,” Porty continued, “so I have invited them to join our party at the end of the week for a few days.”

Charlotte looked at me, her face under control, but I could tell she was alarmed. As I was, and no doubt Evan beside me, but I dared not glance at him. Lord Alvanley was as close to the Regent as Mr. Brummell was, and both were leaders of society. They knew everyone and everyone knew them. George, of course, knew about Hester and Deele and had already shown his alliance. Or perhaps his indifference. But the same could not be said for Alvanley. There was every chance he had met Hester before she was incarcerated and I did not have the same leverage of friendship with Alvanley as I did with George to ensure his discretion.

“At the end of the week, you say, Porty?” Charlotte asked, her tone overly blithe.

Porty grunted. “Most likely. He says they will stay until Sunday.” He glanced at Mr. Ellis-Brant and Evan. “It is well into the season, but we could get in a shoot. There may be some birds left.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Ellis-Brant said heartily.

“Indeed,” Evan said, and I almost believed his enthusiasm.

“Are you a shooter, too, Mr. Talbot?” Mr. Ellis-Brant asked, clearly surprised. “I thought you bookish types didn’t go for sport.”

The Ermine’s husband was a big, genial man with an infectious laugh and an easy manner; I could see why Lord Davenport favored his company. I did wonder, though, how he rubbed along so well with Emelia. Perhaps his congeniality compensated for her uncharitable outlook on life.

“I enjoy all sports, Mr. Ellis-Brant. Shooting, riding, boxing. As well as my books.”

“Well, you’re in luck if you want to ride,” Mr. Ellis-Brant said. “The stables here are exceptional.”

“I agree,” Evan said. “Lady Davenport and I have already ridden the perimeter.” He took another spoonful of soup, sending a swift amorous glance at Charlotte.

The Ermine was not going to let that pass. “Did you know that Lady Augusta is an excellent horsewoman, too, Mr. Talbot?”

He glanced at me, soup spoon poised again. “I did not.”

“You do enjoy riding out, Lady Augusta; is that not so?” the Ermine prompted. She was working hard.