“Lady Eleanor and Miss Ponsonby have kindly agreed to host Hester and Miss Grant over Christmas and New Year,” Evan said, interrupting his protestations. “After which, our sister and her friend will find themselves a residence and set up their own household.”

“No,” Deele said. “You cannot come back into the country and take over. I am Lord Deele. I am our sister’s guardian and she will not live with that woman. I forbid it and I have the law on my side. Where is Hester? I will take her from here now.”

“I am here, Charles,” Lady Hester said from the doorway. Her gaunt pallor held a fierce majesty, and although she leaned heavily upon Miss Grant, she stood firm, ready to fight her own corner.

“You may have the law upon your side, Deele,” Brummell said. “But you do not have Alvanley or me on your side.”

Deele swung back to face him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that we are aware of Bothwell House and your subsequent treatment of Lady Hester. Incarcerating your own sister in such a place cannot be tolerated, nor can taking her from her friends by force and laudanum. Leave Lady Hester and Miss Grant alone. Otherwise you and your wife will find yourselves suddenly lacking entrance to all bon ton homes. And I do mean all of them.”

Deele stared at him, aghast, then sought Alvanley’s gaze. “Surely you do not agree with this, Alvanley. It is coercion!”

“You have acted in a way that no gentleman would, Deele,” Alvanley said somberly. “I had thought you better than this.”

It was as if Alvanley had struck him in the face. The most gentlemanly man in all society had condemned his behavior.

“All you have to do is leave them alone,” Alvanley added. “Nothing else. Let them live their own lives and make their own choices. Just walk away, man.”