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“Your Grace!” Lady Ashcombe’s smile was sharp as a blade, dressed up in this Season’s silk.

“Good evening, Lady Ashcombe,” Laura said quietly, feeling Kitty stiffen beside her.

“How is married life treating you? One hears such things about your husband; I confess I hardly know what to believe!” Lady Ashcombe laughed, fanning herself.

“I find it suits me very well,” Laura replied evenly.

“Does it?” One of the other women leaned in. “I heard he all but dragged his poor niece away from her rightful guardian. Rather high-handed for a man with his reputation, wasn’t it? One does wonder what he wants with the child.”

“He wants her safe,” Laura snapped, her temper beginning to fray at the edges. “Which is more than I can say for her rightful guardian.”

“And his sister!” Lady Ashcombe’s eyes glittered as she fanned herself again. “Such a tragedy. Though I’ve always thought it curious how little anyone knows about what truly happened. He keeps it thoroughly buried, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would say that a man’s grief is his own to carry,” Laura bit out, before leaning in. “Do you know what I find?”

“Tell me, Your Grace,” Lady Ashcombe prompted, clearly anticipating fresh gossip.

“I find it remarkable that a room full of people who never troubled themselves to know his sister feel entitled to gossip about her death like… carrion crows!”

A wave of scandalized murmurs rippled through the little group. They looked delighted at having provoked exactly the reaction they’d come for.

Kitty opened her mouth to speak when she was interrupted by a young lord who’d appeared at their side.

“How fierce,” he said with a thin, mocking smile. “One begins to understand why he bought himself a wife rather than courted one. Easier to purchase loyalty than earn it, I imagine. Did you see the coat her father is wearing?”

“Careful,” Nathaniel warned, suddenly appearing at Laura’s shoulder.

The ladies went still.

Lady Ashcombe’s smile faltered into something considerably less certain and weak. “Your Grace, we were only⁠—”

“I know exactly what you were doing,” Nathaniel said quietly, and that was somehow far more frightening than shouting would have been.

His eyes swept over each of them, slow and deliberate, making them shrink.

“My wife defended my sister’s memory, and my niece’s welfare with more grace than the lot of you has in three years. You would do well to learn from her example.” His gaze settled last on the young lord, colder still. “And you would do well to remember whose good opinion actually matters in this city before you sneer at how a man chooses to love his family. I promise you, it is not yours.”

No one said a word. Lady Ashcombe’s fan had gone still in her hand.

Nathaniel turned away from them without waiting for a response, dismissing them as thoroughly as if they had already left the room, and looked at Laura, something fierce yet tender moving behind his eyes.

“Come, my beautiful wife,” he said gently. “You’ve had enough of this evening. Let me take you home.”

Laura glanced at Kitty, then hugged her. “I’ll see you another day, all right?”

“Of course, dear. Free yourself from this tedious event,” Kitty smiled at her. “We’ll see each other soon.”

And with that, Kitty drifted away from them.

Laura turned to Nathaniel. “Please,” she murmured. “Take me home.”

CHAPTER 17

The carriage rattled quietly through the dark, dank London streets, the noise of the ball fading behind them.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. Laura’s heart still had not fully settled from the strange, charged evening. She took a deep breath and held her hands tight in her lap, staring out at the houses blurring past.

“You didn’t have to defend me,” Nathaniel said, and she turned to find his eyes locked on her. “Lady Ashcombe and her circle have said far worse to my face over the years; they have nothing better to do with their sad lives. I’ve learned not to mind it. You shouldn’t mind it either, Laura.”