“Why is he here?” Honoria whispered.

“Who?” Sarah’s eyes swept across the room. “Mr. Travers?”

“No. Hugh Prentice.”

Sarah’s entire body went rigid with rage. “How dare he show his face?” she hissed. “Surely he knew we would be in attendance.”

But Honoria was shaking her head. “He has just as much right to be here—”

“No, he does not,” Sarah cut in. Trust Honoria to be kind and forgiving when neither was deserved. “What Lord Hugh Prentice needs,” Sarah ground out, “is a public flogging.”

“Sarah!”

“There is a time and a place for Christian charity, and Lord Hugh Prentice intersects with neither.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she spied the gentleman she thought was Lord Hugh. They had never been formally introduced; the duel had occurred before Sarah had entered society, and of course no one had dared to make them known to each other after that. But still, she knew what he looked like.

She had made it her business to know what he looked like.

She could only see the gentleman from the back, but the hair was the correct color—light brown. Or maybe dark blond, depending on how charitable one was feeling. She could not see if he held a cane. Had his walking improved? The last time she had spied him, several months earlier, his limp had been quite pronounced.

“He is friends with Mr. Dunwoody,” Honoria said, her voice still small and fragile. “He will have wanted to congratulate his friend.”

“I don’t care if he wanted to give the happy couple their own private Indian island,” Sarah spat. “You are also friends with Mr. Dunwoody. You have known him for years. Surely Lord Hugh is aware of this.”

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t make excuses for him. I don’t care what Lord Hugh thinks of Daniel—”

“Well, I do. I care what everyone thinks of Daniel.”

“That’s not the point,” Sarah railed. “You are innocent of any wrongdoing, and you have been wronged beyond all measure. If Lord Hugh has a decent bone in his body, he would stay away from any gathering at which there is even a chance that you might be present.”

“You’re right.” Honoria closed her eyes for a moment, looking unbearably weary. “But right now I don’t care. I just want to leave. I want to go home.”

Sarah continued to stare at the man in question, or rather at his back. “He should know better,” she said, mostly to herself. And then she felt herself step forward. “I’m going to—”

“Don’t you dare,” Honoria warned, yanking Sarah back with a swift tug at her arm. “If you cause a scene . . .”

“I would never cause a scene.” But of course they both knew she would. For Hugh Prentice, or rather, because of Hugh Prentice, Sarah would create a scene that would be the stuff of legend.

Two years ago, Hugh Prentice had ripped her family to shreds. Daniel’s absence was still a gaping hole at family gatherings. One couldn’t even mention his name in front of his mother; Aunt Virginia would simply pretend she hadn’t heard, and then (according to Honoria), she’d lock herself in her room and cry.