He should have listened years ago when his sister first told him how much she disliked the school. Their carriage slowed, joining a block-long line of vehicles waiting to drop guests at the Duke of Trent’s townhouse.

The unpleasant gossip that Lady Yasmin had told him was surely untrue, likely started by disagreeable schoolgirls. That would make sense. The last thing he wanted to do was tell Lydia that people were speaking unkindly about her.

Still, Giles had to say something, something a chaperone would say.

“Lydia,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Yes?”

“You do know that you mustn’t visit darkened corners in the duke’s gardens without a chaperone?”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, and he instantly knew that Lady Yasmin had been right.

“Who told you that rubbish?” she demanded.

“Did you leave the ballroom yesterday and go into the garden, accompanied by a gentleman, without a chaperone?” he countered.

Lydia straightened, thrusting her chin forward. “I know who told you,” his sister hissed. “She did, didn’t she? The strumpet told you.”

“I don’t know who you mean.”

“You know exactly who I am talking about!” Lydia cried. “The woman you are making a fool of yourself over. Do I really have to name her? The French coquette. The flirt. People use other names too.” Whatever she saw in Giles’s eyes made Lydia’s jaw set even more firmly, and her eyes flare with anger.

“Lady Yasmin is a lady,” he said. “You do yourself a disservice by speaking about another woman in such a fashion.”

His sister barked with laughter, and he saw a flash of his mother in her face: the implacable rage, the dislike of being questioned.

“She’s after you,” Lydia said with unforgivable informality. “She wants you and your title. You’re too naïve to see it, Giles. Although they also say that she dare not accept a marriage proposal because she’s no innocent.”

Giles fought to control a stab of pure fury. “You and I know better than most that cruel gossip should never be shared or even listened to.”

She tossed her head. “If you are referring to our father, I consider that a lamentable episode that should be forgotten.”

Episode? Of course, she had been very young when the late earl took his life.

“Our father was weak.” She said it fiercely. “I’m old enough to acknowledge the truth about him. He wasn’t just unhappy. He was a criminal, a thief.”

Giles flinched. “Who told you?”

“Those girls at the seminary,” Lydia stated. “They were never my friends and they never will be. Not given who my father was. Blanche was the only one who didn’t care.”

The carriage was silent for a moment, the only sound the rattle of carriage wheels over cobblestones.

“Our father was hounded to death by gossip, which is why I am not happy to find you engaging in it. He left a letter saying as much.”

“Why shouldn’t they gossip about him? He stole money from a church. That’s what they all said. From a church.”