Markham’s face turned the color of an overripe tomato, and he lunged forward as if to strike her, but before he could get close, he was restrained by several large footmen. Sarani blinked as Her Grace’s voice cut through the noise. “Fullerton, this man is trespassing and is unwelcome in this house.”

As the butler and footmen dragged a kicking and screaming Markham out, Rhystan disappeared for a moment but then returned with a satisfied smile on his face. Sarani shot him a questioning look. His grin widened. “We’ll see how he likes being knocked out, thrown on a wagon, and shipped to Australia.”

“Can you do that?”

“He threatened and blackmailed a peer. It’s the least of what he deserves.”

Sarani opened her mouth to reply and then gaped in surprise when the duchess stepped up beside her and took her hand. She nearly keeled over in shock. Her Grace’s face was so hard it seemed made of marble as she addressed the now-silent throng. “If any of you are of the same opinion as that loathsome man, feel free to join him.”

When Ravenna came to stand on one side of her mother and Rhystan stepped up to Sarani’s other side, Sarani reeled at the absolute declaration of support by one of the most powerful families in England. In defense of her.

She couldn’t breathe, her throat was so clogged with emotion.

When all was said and done, a good number of the guests left. They’d come for the scandal and gotten one, and they were simply too set in their ways to change.

Among those who remained, Sarani recognized the French marquis and then froze in recognition of another. She went mute, her body shaking, as the man approached.

“Lord Beckforth,” she said. “You’re here.”

The earl smiled. “Does that surprise you?”

“I thought all Englishmen were like Talbot and Markham. And that you would want nothing to do with the half-blooded daughter of your disowned aunt.”

He laughed, and for a moment, she saw traces of her mother in his smile. The familiar sight of it made her eyes burn.

“I would like to invite you to dinner, if that’s not too forward. I’d love for my family to meet you and for you to get to know us. You are welcome to stay at Lockhart Manor for however long you like.”

Sarani’s heart soared. “I would love to meet them. Thank you, Lord Beckforth.”

“Henry,” he said. “My name, dear cousin, is Henry.”

* * *

Rhystan dimly registered Beckforth talking with Sarani. All he could hear replaying in his head was her voice calling off their engagement. It gutted him, left him in a state of strange inertia. He felt untethered as though his ship was unmoored in the middle of the ocean with no engine, no sail, and no rudder. She was all those things to him.