“No, I am unharmed,” Julia said. “But we must get Gus to bed.”

For a second my vision cleared. I blinked as Porty entered the yard, followed by the ever-curious, ever-intrusive Ermine and her husband.

“Lady Augusta, whatever have you done to yourself?” the Ermine asked in shrill condemnation, as if my injured state was somehow a character flaw. “You are so disheveled.”

“What the hell is going on here, Charlotte?” Porty bellowed. “Deele said Lady Augusta and Lady Julia were keeping his sister from him. Where is she now? Where is Deele?” He stared at the pair hitched to the phaeton. “Good God, whose donkeys are these? Where are your bays, Charlotte?” He rounded upon me, his words literally hitting me in a spray of wrath. “What have you done with those horses? They are prime blood. You are taking advantage of my wife’s friendship, Lady Augusta. This is not the behavior of a woman of your rank or indeed a friend of any—”

He was in a passion, all red face and bulging veins, and frankly, I was not up to listening to such venom, let alone feeling it land wetly upon my skin. I did the only thing possible under the circumstances. I fainted.

•   •   •

I opened my eyes, an almost-resurfacing from somewhere deep and quiet. Dim light from the edges of a curtained window, my body warm beneath blankets, my hand held. I turned my head upon a pillow—an ache, distant but persistent along my jaw. Beside me, Julia atop the covers, her hand in mine, asleep. And Tully on my other side, in a chair, head back, a breathy snore breaking the silence. I closed my eyes, feeling the soft heaviness of safe slumber rise and carry me back into dark oblivion.

I woke again, this time into full consciousness and a sense of basic body urgency. The room was still dim, but Julia was not beside me. I tried to say her name, but it came out as a cracked groan.

Tully’s face loomed above me.

“She is awake, my lady.”

Julia’s face appeared alongside. “Gus, how are you feeling?”

And then Charlotte’s face, on a waft of her lily perfume, all three of them peering at me in a similar state of concern.

I licked my lips, trying to find some saliva with which to form words. “Pot,” I managed.

Upon that statement of need, Julia and Charlotte left the room and Tully helped me out of bed to use the chamber pot. After I was much relieved, my maid helped me back onto the bed, plumped the pillows behind me, and pressed a glass of barley water into my hand. I took a long sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe my parched throat as she opened the bedchamber door for Julia and Charlotte to enter again.

“How long have I been asleep?” I croaked.